This is exactly the sort of mishap I'm always imagining. Honestly.
From Peggy.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Just Desserts?
Don't give me that crap! (Actually, I'd be pretty tickled if you did.)
From Derek, who strives never to merit such an offering.
From Derek, who strives never to merit such an offering.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Sic
Not an oxymoron, but certainly a touch ironic: the literary tattoo.
Lots of Little Princes; only one Harriet the Spy:
Source
Lots of Little Princes; only one Harriet the Spy:
Source
Hot Stuff
Someone left the cake out in the rain ... but that didn't stop Donna from wolfing it down:
From Derek.
From Derek.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The Less You Know
One of the few pleasures in my otherwise dull and bleak existence is the weekly podcast of This American Life.
Last week's episode was my favorite so far. Modern Jackass magazine? I have a lifetime subscription. Sometimes I catch myself in mid-oration and realize I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
Last week's episode was my favorite so far. Modern Jackass magazine? I have a lifetime subscription. Sometimes I catch myself in mid-oration and realize I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
Monday, July 28, 2008
In Health and in Sickness
Dan has put up with me for 12 years today. There's no medal for that, but there should be: For exemplary and longstanding forbearance, dedication, and service above and beyond the call of booty ...
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Snuff Said
Like a kind of literary circus freak, Palahniuk delights in delivering material that frequently causes his fans to pass out (he stopped counting the casualties at 72). His only concern about this phenomenon is that his most shocking prose might be now overfamiliar. Hence the reason he replaced it for a while with material that instead made people cry.Chuck Palahniuk is my kind of writer.
A couple of years ago, cooped up on a cross-country flight, I started listening to one of his short stories on my iPod. It was so foul, so hilariously obscene, I was overcome with hysterical laughter of the crying-and-gasping variety. The fact that no one else could hear only made things worse. I had to turn it off after a few minutes.
Also from Riley.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Have Cocktail Will Natter
Remember the early-'80s song "Freaks Come out at Night"?
I don't know if it's the hot weather, but on our late-evening dog walks we keep encountering people in liquor-fueled states of chattiness. You could almost see the fumes rising off one of them. I was used to that in the city, but you don't often see it on display in the 'burbs.
Speaking of boozy neighbors, Dan ran into a notorious tippler this morning. (No word on her status at the time.)
"How's your brother?" she asked.
The first time she made that query, a year or two ago, Dan was momentarily nonplused, wondering: How could she possibly know my brother? Then he realized she must have meant me.
He set her straight, as it were, but evidently it was too much to grasp. Or maybe she just forgot. Heavy drinking takes quite a toll on the mind, you know.
We might have to do something more memorable - like making out in front of her. Which would give me considerable pleasure, not least because Dan reported that she was wearing a T-shirt today from the 1996 Republican convention.
I don't know if it's the hot weather, but on our late-evening dog walks we keep encountering people in liquor-fueled states of chattiness. You could almost see the fumes rising off one of them. I was used to that in the city, but you don't often see it on display in the 'burbs.
Speaking of boozy neighbors, Dan ran into a notorious tippler this morning. (No word on her status at the time.)
"How's your brother?" she asked.
The first time she made that query, a year or two ago, Dan was momentarily nonplused, wondering: How could she possibly know my brother? Then he realized she must have meant me.
He set her straight, as it were, but evidently it was too much to grasp. Or maybe she just forgot. Heavy drinking takes quite a toll on the mind, you know.
We might have to do something more memorable - like making out in front of her. Which would give me considerable pleasure, not least because Dan reported that she was wearing a T-shirt today from the 1996 Republican convention.
In Other Words
I'm glad Olympic tourists will be able to order food with some degree of confidence, but "mapo tofu" just isn't as evocative as "bean curd made by a pock-marked woman."
From Peg.
From Peg.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Today's Top Story
I've been waiting for this for years:
Thanks to David for this heaping helping of schadenfreude.
Thanks to David for this heaping helping of schadenfreude.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Today's Top Story
I thought this type of phenomenon was limited to Catholics and evangelicals.
From Riley.
Child Play
Everyone hates babies. They're ugly, self-centered, inarticulate. They drool; they scream; they soil themselves. And things only get worse after that.
Why wait till they're verbal to mess with their little oversized heads? Some ideas to get you started.
From Peg, whose own daughter has reached adulthood without (visible) damage.
Why wait till they're verbal to mess with their little oversized heads? Some ideas to get you started.
From Peg, whose own daughter has reached adulthood without (visible) damage.
Another Angel in Heaven
Thank you for being a friend, Miss Getty.
And thank you, David, for breaking the news with a salty sweetness worthy of Sophia.
And thank you, David, for breaking the news with a salty sweetness worthy of Sophia.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Barbie Cues
It's never too early to start shopping for Christmas, and I sincerely hope someone's planning to get me this.
Barbie gets a bad rap these days, but I challenge you to show me a more versatile role model. She's been everything: astronaut, dentist, NASCAR driver - and now performance artist, albeit unwittingly.
Thanks to Kristine for the second link.
Barbie gets a bad rap these days, but I challenge you to show me a more versatile role model. She's been everything: astronaut, dentist, NASCAR driver - and now performance artist, albeit unwittingly.
Thanks to Kristine for the second link.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Today's Top Story
What I want to know is how many rage incidents are sparked by a sticker on someone else's car. I'm not going to hurl a Slurpee at you if your bumper sports an NRA or pro-life message, but I'm a lot less likely to let you cut in front of me.
Creature Discomforts
A new PSA campaign from the brilliant team behind "Wallace and Gromit" and "Creature Comforts."
Thanks to Peg.
Thanks to Peg.
Who Knew?
I was never much of a science student, but they sure do make some interesting discoveries.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Over It
"I don't like this 'ALS' business," I remarked this morning as Dan attempted to force my left knee through my ribcage, part of our daily routine.
"I know," he said. "It's getting really old. You've been working it too long."
"No one cries anymore," I sighed.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Whine Country
To my knowledge, I've never agreed with right-wing nutter and soft-core porn investor Phil Gramm about anything. I have to say, though, it's a bit much to hear fat, lazy Americans bitch about how much it costs to fill up their SUVs.
We've been so spoiled for so long that we think of cheap gas as a birthright, never mind how expensive it is elsewhere in the world. Last week I was impressed that it cost $62 to gas up Marge the Minivan when there was still a third of a tank left. That was put into perspective when a friend reported spending $130 to fill up in Belgium.
In today's column, Mark Morford considers some of the forces at play:
We've been so spoiled for so long that we think of cheap gas as a birthright, never mind how expensive it is elsewhere in the world. Last week I was impressed that it cost $62 to gas up Marge the Minivan when there was still a third of a tank left. That was put into perspective when a friend reported spending $130 to fill up in Belgium.
In today's column, Mark Morford considers some of the forces at play:
I admit to a bit of total confusion mixed with a certain level of stupefied awe and teeth-rattling frustration as to why anyone with the mental acuity of more than a housefly would think that stabbing more holes into Alaska and the eastern seaboard in the search for a few remaining precious drops of oil is a good idea, would solve anything at all, is anything more than the equivalent of hurling matches at the devil.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Don't Tread on Me
Here in the Holler, we've learned through painful experience to pause before plunking down on the sofa or a bed. What looks to the untrained eye like a randomly strewn throw or a disheveled duvet might well conceal a small greyhound. Possibly even a whippet, if it's dark or you're exceptionally tired or drunk. Barely three-dimensional to begin with, they love melting into a cozy crevice. They also like to be covered - even in the heat of summer.
Though I've lived it for many years, I didn't realize till today that the phenomenon has a name.
Source
Though I've lived it for many years, I didn't realize till today that the phenomenon has a name.
Source
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Today's Top Story
I can't believe no one sent me this last week:
Sadly, the video was removed from YouTube, but there's still a slide show.
We attended a wedding the same weekend; it was nothing like this. I feel a little cheated.
Source
Sadly, the video was removed from YouTube, but there's still a slide show.
We attended a wedding the same weekend; it was nothing like this. I feel a little cheated.
Source
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Looks to Die For
If you ever wondered what my ideal man looks like, now you know.
From Kristine, who's going to be very surprised when I bring him to her wedding.
From Kristine, who's going to be very surprised when I bring him to her wedding.
Rolling Stoner
As an erstwhile San Franciscan, I can tell you this isn't as surprising as it looks:
From Peg.
From Peg.
Friday, July 11, 2008
The Glamorous Life of a Fat Cat
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Crease: The Musical
Long, long ago, I spent a summer and the subsequent holiday season as a Benetton vendeuse. The pay was lousy, but my wardrobe was greatly enhanced.
Although it sparked no career aspirations, there was something satisfying about the work. It wasn't until I read this that I realized how appealing it was to my OCD aesthetic: all those crisply uniform stacks and rows.
Like the people in the article, I kept my own clothes (and linens) in the same manner until fate, cruel fate, intervened.
Although it sparked no career aspirations, there was something satisfying about the work. It wasn't until I read this that I realized how appealing it was to my OCD aesthetic: all those crisply uniform stacks and rows.
Like the people in the article, I kept my own clothes (and linens) in the same manner until fate, cruel fate, intervened.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Bacon Bits
Having come across a rash(er) of bacon stories lately, I'm beginning to think there's almost nothing you can't do with it. As with many things, though, the fact that you can doesn't mean you should.
If you're artistically inclined, you could put your mind to something like this. (I personally think the Parthenon is crying out for it.) You'll build up an appetite for sure, so you'll want to have a snack on hand. Maybe even something substantial. And you'll definitely want to follow up with this; your dentist will thank you.
Sources: Neatorama, Dlisted, OMG Blog
If you're artistically inclined, you could put your mind to something like this. (I personally think the Parthenon is crying out for it.) You'll build up an appetite for sure, so you'll want to have a snack on hand. Maybe even something substantial. And you'll definitely want to follow up with this; your dentist will thank you.
Sources: Neatorama, Dlisted, OMG Blog
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Monday, July 07, 2008
Check, Please
One of the few perks of being an Amyotrophic American - besides the primo parking - is that I don't have to pay income tax or even file a return. My gubmint cheese and its private counterpart are nontaxable, and the interest on my "savings" is well below the threshold.
I was therefore surprised when Dan suggested I apply for a stimulus payment: "How can I get back money I didn't pay?" But he double-checked the criteria, we sent off a brief form, and hell if I didn't get a check last month.
Mine went straight into the bank - sorry, Dubya - but other people had specific plans for theirs.
I was therefore surprised when Dan suggested I apply for a stimulus payment: "How can I get back money I didn't pay?" But he double-checked the criteria, we sent off a brief form, and hell if I didn't get a check last month.
Mine went straight into the bank - sorry, Dubya - but other people had specific plans for theirs.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Friday, July 04, 2008
Fonda Civics?
Before you stuff your face at the cookout and exclaim over the fireworks, why not take this short quiz to find out if you even know what you're celebrating.
I passed with 25 out of 30. My weakness was constitutional amendments, which I blame on my public education. I barely remember studying them. Frankly, I'm surprised I did as well as I did.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Cut to the Core
Getting a haircut is a profoundly humbling experience these days.
It's debasing just to enter the Hair Cuttery, but the real anguish sets in when I'm stationed in front of the mirror, at which point I'm forced to confront the horror: the shrublike hair (before and after the coiffure); the slack, pallid visage marked by odd red patches like those of a career alcoholic; the cascades of white clippings. I keep my eyes shut through as much of the ordeal as possible.
Today, when the smock was ripped off like a band-aid - or a scab - a special treat: the faint spot where I'd drooled a bit of vitamin pill this morning, centered perfectly between my fat-girl titties like a Victorian necklace.
It's debasing just to enter the Hair Cuttery, but the real anguish sets in when I'm stationed in front of the mirror, at which point I'm forced to confront the horror: the shrublike hair (before and after the coiffure); the slack, pallid visage marked by odd red patches like those of a career alcoholic; the cascades of white clippings. I keep my eyes shut through as much of the ordeal as possible.
Today, when the smock was ripped off like a band-aid - or a scab - a special treat: the faint spot where I'd drooled a bit of vitamin pill this morning, centered perfectly between my fat-girl titties like a Victorian necklace.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Michael J.: 'Fox!'
Late this morning, I glanced out the window just in time to see a tiny red fox stride casually past.
I knew there were foxes around – one ran across the road right in front of Dan a few months ago – but I’d never seen one myself. And I was looking towards the street, not the woods, which made the encounter all the more surprising. It was quite a little thrill.
Most days all I see is birds, squirrels, dogs, and cats. And white people. Lots of white people.
I knew there were foxes around – one ran across the road right in front of Dan a few months ago – but I’d never seen one myself. And I was looking towards the street, not the woods, which made the encounter all the more surprising. It was quite a little thrill.
Most days all I see is birds, squirrels, dogs, and cats. And white people. Lots of white people.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
