Yay! Blog! v1.0
Category: Memes - 5MS

<5iveminute word="flavour">How awful it must be to be the flavor of the day and know you're the flavor of the day. I mean... today is your day and then that's it. In less than 24 hours, it's all gone. All that attention and then BAM... some other flavor takes your place.

What if you were the flavor of the day, and no one picked you? Like if you were liver flavored ice cream. There would be a big sign that read: "FLAVOR OF THE DAY: LIVER" You'd feel proud, and you would be so excited with the anticipation of the store opening. But then no one would pick you because you're, you know... liver flavored. Maybe a few people would pick you. Like fans of liver ice cream. But only if the proprietor had the foresight to provide grilled onion topping.

<5iveminute word="silky">Today she seemed frantic. Pauly hadn't seen his great grandmother upset like this since she'd lost that photograph of Bristol, her childhood canine companion. She eventually found it, but it seemed she couldn't focus on much of anything until she held it in her hands again.

Grams was always losing one thing or another. But she seemed to remember everything she ever had. Not like Pauly... if something was out of sight, it was out of mind. No telling how many things he'd lost and forgotten.

She was going through the cedar chest in her closet and mumbling something about her late husband.

"Grams, what are you looking for?" Pauly asked.

"It's here somewhere. I know it is. He would have wanted to wear it today. It was his favorite," she replied, pulling handkerchiefs and china dolls and old greeting cards in brittle envelopes from the chest and setting them on the floor behind her.

"Who, Grams?"

"Why, your great grandfather, of course. It would be his 90th birthday today."

Pauly never knew his great grandfather. He had died shortly before Pauly was born 12 years ago. But Grams had told him much, and he had seen plenty of old pictures. The thing that struck Pauly was how his great grandfather was always so well dressed. Hat, suit and tie. Every time.

"Here it is!" Grams cried with a great squeal of relief. She rubbed the silky blue tie across her cheek, closed her eyes and said, "Happy Birthday, my love."

<5iveminute word="filter">Back when I was a concert going fool, I went to see White Zombie. The opening band was Filter. I got to the concert somewhat early (as I always did). There was already a very long line. We waited. and waited. and waited. Rumors started trickling back through the line... the fire marshall was there and wasn't going to let White Zombie use their pyrotechnics. This was back in 1996. A few months ago, I thought of that White Zombie concert when I heard that people died up North in a fire because another band used pyrotechnics in a club when they weren't supposed to. I silently thanked the fire marshalls for watching out for us that night in Austin. Some of the kids in line were complaining. They wanted to see fire. Like Beavis... Fire Fire Fire! I wonder if those kids remembered that night when they heard of the fire that killed people up North? I doubt it. I'm surprised I remember it.

Filter was good, but I remember the lighting in the venue during their set was strange. It wasn't dark with spotlights. It was just... light. The lighting for White Zombie was better. I liked the show. I didn't like the audience so much, though. I remember people kick boxing. Or maybe they were just kicking each other. I've never understood the thrill of trying to hurt other people.