Thursday, June 22, 2006

Juggling Is The New Mime

As a rule, phone sex operators can be pretty busy during the prime-time hours.

As with any entertainment industry, there really isn't much business during the day, and it's in the after dinner hours that things pick up. Now, what with sex being a common bedtime ritual, we tend to keep going a little later than your average movie theater, but the principle is the same. We mostly work nights.

By know, you should be reasonably wondering where I'm going with this and what it has to do with juggling mimes. Well Poppet, my point is... We don't get to watch much television unless we record it.

Be patient, the jugglers are coming.

I took this week off from work for the first time in five years (the beauty of phone sex is that it can go with you when you're on vacation) and reintroduced my ass to my couch.

I don't mind saying, I had some rather high expectations. For the past decade, I've occasionally caught a few good shows, but only after the seasons are released on DVD. (House MD is a special case, I'd rearrange my schedule for Fry, Laurie, French, or Saunders any day of the week. I'm glad none of the others have American series going right now or I'd never get anything done.)

So, there I am, with the remote, a bowl of popcorn, and my expectations and what do I subject myself to but a new show called America's Got Talent.


The first act was a guy who snaps his fingers. Nuff said.

Of course, I never leave it alone when enough has been said, so I'll continue.

For those of you old enough to remember The Gong Show, you'll understand what I was looking at for two hours.

Oh sure, there were a few truly talented people on the show. There were two kids who clearly hadn't made it just for being precocious. They had talent that could stand up to any adult, any day of the week. There were a few singers who were good and some guys who really need to be auditioning for Cirque de Soliel. But for the most part, it was nose organs, singing saws, and rapping grannies.

And jugglers. G-d help us, there were jugglers.

Hence the title of my post.

It seems the new trend in obnoxious street performance is toward juggling. Unlike mimes however, who can only make rude, but silent gestures if you make a disparaging remark, jugglers can threaten you with knives and chainsaws. Oh sure, they use them in the act, but really the weapons are there to make sure you keep your catty comments to yourself.

On last night's show, one such juggler managed to get a second shot at the $1 million prize by baring his machetes to the judges after they'd all voted him off. If you tune in to the next episode, you'll get to see Mr. I-don't-take-no-for-an-answer-without-making-you-fear-for-your-safety (we call him Mr. I for short) and be able to check out his encore. He's kind of clumsy though, and keeps dropping his stuff, so maybe he'll take himself out of the competition when he dismembers himself.

Enjoy your TV. I'm going back to work.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Talk about phoning it in...

I found a new sex toy for you!

Ok, maybe not the kind you're thinking of. It's a chatterbot, and you can now chat online anytime with my vacuous alter-ego.

Go ahead, she's right there at the top of the right hand column.


Go on. You know you wanna.

She may not be as stimulating as a venus butterfly vibrator, but if you ask the right questions, she can be penetrating none-the-less.


I'm a geek.

Friday, June 09, 2006

My All Time Favorite Call

I'm sorry to say, my absolute favorite call isn't even mine. It was a story I once heard of another operator's call.. Let's just call her Operator16.. And she was kind enough to give me leave to publish her story here.

She: So.. You're actually in your garage?

He: Yeah, I'm in my car.

She: You're in your car in the garage.

He: Yeah, I'm in the trunk.

She: Why are you in the trunk?

He: So my wife doesn't hear me.

She: Are you playing hide and seek?

He: No, I just don't want her to hear me.

She: Where is she?

He: In the kitchen making dinner.

She: Ok, so she's in the kitchen making dinner and you're in the trunk of the car in the garage. Did you leave the truck latch open?

He: Um.. No. Do you think I should have?

She: How are you going to get out?

He: I.. Um...

She: I see.

He: I guess I didn't think this one through.

She: Clearly not.

He: What am I going to do?

She: Why don't you feel around for a safety release inside?

He: (rustling sounds) I'm not finding anything.

She: Does it have fold down back seats? Can you push them down?

He: No, the trunk is separate.

She: Wow, I don't even know what to tell ya. Sound like you got yourself into a jam there.

He: How much oxygen do you think is in a sealed car trunk.

She: Just take shallow breaths.

He: (Begins to hyperventilate)

She: Ok, well, that's not what I told you to do. Look, can you shout for your wife?

He: No, she's at the other end of the house. She'd never hear me.

She: So why did you need to... Oh never mind.

He: (whispering) Wait a sec. I hear something.

She: Ok, great, maybe it's your wife.. Try shouting.

He: (whispering) Shhhh... Hang on.

She: Wouldn't now be a good time to stop hiding and get out of the trunk?

He: (no response, just the muffled sounds of a key going into a lock and the unmistakable sound of a trunk door opening.)

The wife: Dinner's ready, stupid.