The Adventures of Clumpy

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

You may not know this about me, but I am a huge fan of Days of Our Lives. I’ve watched the show since I was in high school, and am lucky to have witnessed Marlena’s head spinning and projectile vomiting a la The Exorcist when she was possessed by the devil, numerous serial killers and that time that Jack and Jennifer pushed some guy in that vat of acid (not really clear on the details there). According to my high school boyfriend, there was a time that I gave up Days of Our Lives (!!!) but I have no memory of that.

Somewhere along the line, my father started subscribing to Soap Opera Digest for me (I think he gets them for free), which is an excellent addition to my life. It is because of this excellent addition to my life that I have this awesome gem to share with you:

You're going to want to click on this to study it more closely. Seriously.

Yes, this cat that looks like a long-haired version of the Guster is staring at a giant litter scooper in the sky. Yes, the giant litter scooper in the sky is holding a purple blob that looks like a hybrid of Meatwad and a Teletubbie giving us what might be a thumbs up.

If that cat were anything like the Guster instead of just looking a little like him, he would have run screaming. He also wouldn’t even be on the moon because he’s not really allowed outside of house, even though he’s been embarking on a few sordid outside adventures of late (part one, part two).

Yet, here this cat is, staring–seemingly in awe–at this scooper and scoop-character (I think we’re supposed to believe his name is Clumpy) in the sky.

Lots of ads are weird and random so let’s forgive this part. It turns out if you look at the lower right hand corner, this is not an ad for a movie that no one in their right minds would want to see, but an ad for Scoop Away brand cat litter. OK, it’s an ad for cat litter.

Have you ever seen a cat poop? I think that most of us have, and for those of us who haven’t, it’s a lot like a little dog poop, which is somewhat like a little human poop. It looks nothing like Meatwad, and only nominally like a Teletubbie. They are not purple, they do not have eyes, and they are not shaped like a biscuit. Is this ad telling us that if we use the Scoop Away brand cat litter (which, btw, is terrible and horrible for the environment, though nothing compared to the BP oil spill), our cat’s poops will turn into little purple biscuit-shaped poops and fly away into space? Cause that would be pretty awesome, but a rather bitter pill to swallow, if you know what I mean (or if I even know what I mean, which is that it would be hard to swallow).

It turns out, if you visit www.scoopaway.com, as this ad urges you to, there are indeed movies–almost adventures–starring Clumpy. They all have the same general story line–Clumpy stays together while his counterpart falls apart, be it while lifting weights at the gym (while flirting–mind you–with a yellow clump of cat poo), catching rays at the beach or scaling the Alps. OK, Scoop Away brand cat litter, you got me to look at your website. I stared, transfixed in horror, at these elaborate scenes you probably hope will go viral and somehow increase your hold on the demographic of soap-opera-watching-cat-loving women who all share the same general distaste for litter box cleaning. You win.  I’m even helping you by drawing attention on the Internets to your misguided attempt at viral marketing.  But be warned:  I predict a class action lawsuit on behalf of American housewives and other soap opera addicts who will soon find themselves haunted by these smiling purple cat poops in the sky.

OMFG

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

What do you do when something you’ve depended on–something you’ve set your watch by–something you’ve grown so accustomed to having that your heart is both empty and heavy with tears–is ripped away from you without notice, without explaination?!

…what do you do, when all of a sudden there’s a hole in your life so vast you can’t sleep at night?

This is how I feel now that soapcity no longer supplies internet soap opera watchers their daily installment of Days of Our Lives.

I just want to cry.

But instead, I suppose I’ll have to get a Tevo. And a real job.

to my readers: a contest

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

Please help me.

1.I am in dire need of a title to a soap opera.
2.I still sleep on the living room floor.
3.My confidence is shaken.

Let’s address these points in reverse order.

3.My confidence is shaken.

Honestly, I don’t know what you can do about this. Let’s move on, but have it be acknowledged. You can even feel sorry for me a little bit if you like.

2.I still sleep on the living room floor.

Now, I know that I was the cheap one that wanted to live, well…cheaply. But I’m over it. What makes matters worse is that I’m an absolute germaphobe. Really. And this is not a clean living room floor. Many of you have stepped exactly where I sleep with all sorts of BART residue, excrement, what-have-you on your shoes. How do you think that makes me feel when I awake during the night to realize I’ve rolled off my foot-wide camping mat? Well, quite paranoid, actually.

1.I am in dire need of a title to a soap opera. Now this is important.

I have been searching the world for a title to a soap opera, with no luck. As a result, I’m turning to you, my readers, capricious as you may be.

So, anyway, a good soap opera title. It needs to be catchy, and have a good acronym (like DOOL). Plus extra points for being norCal relevant. Submissions will be judged by a committee of fifteen. If you’d like to sit on this committee, let me know.

What do you get out of it?! I’ll put your name somewhere someplace mixed into my top secret project. Next to the produce section of the supermarket. There your name will be: in large captial letters. Title by ______ (insert your name). That could be you! Or your name, anyway.

Participation is NOT optional. Post suggestions as comments on this post. And please remember that I have an invisible stat counter, so I know:

a.) what IP address you’re coming from. Not only does that IP address uniquely identify the computer at which you sit, but I also get a map of the world with a little red dot pointing out exactly where you are.

b.) how many returning visitors that I get. I can compare this number to the number of comments posted on this post, and easily conclude who has and has not posted a suggestion. So, if you’re thinking about skirting this particular duty, know that I’ll track you down. I have already. I know, it’s freaky. But, really, I don’t have much to do. I’m actually really terrified of this blogging habit I’ve developed. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get a job where I actually have to work.

And you don’t even have to leave my your name! It’s totally fine with me if right by the eggplants, the sign reads:

TITLE BY ANONYMOUS


Or you can reclaim it later. I’m flexible. I might demand proof though, so you might plan ahead.

Oh, and I added a link to the right that says “friends&siblings.” If you want to be a friend/sibling, just let me know. I’ll link to any profile be it myspace, Russian bride, lesbos-for-peace, whatever.

(If Meatwad doesn’t have a friendster profile, such would be a gross, gross oversight on the part of the younger generation, don’t you agree?)