Happy Golden Birthday?
Friday, May 30, 2008
my sister has made up a new holiday to complement her actual birthday this year. tomorrow she turns 31, and being that she is turning 31 on may 31, she feels that it's a little something more than just a regular ol' birthday. it's her "golden birthday" so she's throwing herself a hungarian birthday soiree for her and her friends. the picture is the cover of the cd that she's giving to her guest's as a party favor. i made them myself! debbie gibson is still the bomb!
Memorial Day Hiatus...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
.... .- .--. .--. -.-- / -... .. .-. - .... -.. .- -.-- / -- --- .-. ... . / -.-. --- -.. . .-.-.- (happy birthday morse code.)
Friday, May 23, 2008
- --- -.. .- -.-- / .. -. / .---- ---.. ....- ....- / - .... . / ..-. .. .-. ... - / -- --- .-. ... . / -.-. --- -.. . / -- . ... ... .- --. . / .-- .- ... / ... . -. - .-.-.- / .- -.-. -.-. --- .-. -.. .. -. --. / - --- / - .... . / ..-. --- .-.. -.- ... / .- - / -.. .- -.-- ... - .... .- - . -. -.. .. -. -.-- .-.-.- -.-. --- -- --..-- / .-- . / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / --. . - / .-- .- ... - . -.. / - --- -.. .- -.-- / .. -. / -.-. . .-.. . -... .-. .- - .. --- -. .-.-.- .-.-.- .-.-.- / .-.. .. -.- . / .. / -. . . -.. / .- / .-. . .- ... --- -. .-.-.-
in case you didn't understand all that...
today in 1844 the first morse code message was sent. according to the folks at daysthatendiny.com, we should get wasted today in celebration... like i need a reason.
in case you ever need a 'morse code translator,' (for what, i can't think of a single reason) HERE is a great one online.
Don't We All Uma, Don't We All...
argh! i hate my cell phone company so much right now!
In a scene that was eerily reminiscent of the film Network, actress Uma Thurman stuck her head out her building's window and publicly vented frustrations about her cell phone company. Thurman's action inspired a man in the building across the street to yell about his frustration with his cable company's lack of HD channels, which caused the man on the floor below him to yell back that he should look into getting satellite television. As is wont to happen in New York City, the two men got into a very loud and public debate over satellite vs. cable. Thurman saw the men across yelling and yelled at them, "Hey, don't ruin my moment with a bunch of bullshit HD talk. This was about me and my issues with my phone, dingus."i feel your pain uma, i really do. and anyone with t-mobile will also agree.
[Linked From: Defamer.com] Read more...
The "Q" is for Ketchup not Catsup.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
ketchup, NOT catsup, is another item that i believe we as american's must not be stingy on. just like q-tips, it is extremely important to only use heinz. hunt's and extra value just won't cut it. i can actually tell the difference. don't test me. i'll pinch my pennies elsewhere.**
**the running list of essential non-generics: q-tips & heinz ketchup.
What Does the "Q" Stand For?**
Monday, May 19, 2008
...and according to alan corey, that's not such a bad thing. but there are a few things in life that i feel it is very necessary to "splurge" on; a few items that the "generic" brand just can't replace. one item that i feel extremely strongly about in this catergory: q-tips. i don't want 'cotton swabs.' i don't want 'cotton buds.' for my daily eargasm, i want the real thing. 100% died-in-the-wool (or the cotton) q-tips. they're kind of a big deal; they even have their own website. you have to notice the difference, the way the cheap ones bend in your ear. and god forbid your 'cotton swab' have a plastic handle, instead of a little rolled paper one... YOU CAN KEEP IT. i implore you folks, life is all about simple pleasures... REAL q-tips, they are one of them.**and in case you're curious, according to wikipedia, the 'q' in 'q-tip' stands for 'quality,' originally referring to the quality of the cotton on the end of the stick. Read more...
I'm Getting Awfully Close...
Sunday, May 18, 2008
close to thirty, not close to being a millionaire.
i got some new summer reading even though summer hasn't actually started yet. a recommendation from my pops and the good people at u.s. news and world report. my pops has always been one for get-rich-quick schemes, though cynical to the highest degree, but never had the balls to try one out for himself.
i'm told, in the introduction of this book that this is anything but one of the aforementioned schemes. there is even a warning on the back cover reading "WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO USE THIS BOOK UNLESS YOU ARE PREPARED TO BECOME FILTHY RICH." the book is called A Million Bucks By 30: how to overcome a crap job, stingy parents, and a useless degree to become a millionaire before (or after) turning thirty. it's by a young chap named alan corey.
all i've gotten so far is that it takes eating a whole lot of ramen noodles, but i'm only on chapter one. i survived four years of college eating little more than ramen noodles when not at work, and i see where that has gotten me so far. i'm constantly reminded, even since i quit 34 days ago, that i would be richer if i hadn't smoked all those years. que sera, sera. i'll keep you posted on the book and my progress towards millionaire; or at least my plan to get there.
Aughra Speaks...
for the record, i still HATE horoscopes; especially when they make so much sense.
"Even in the most difficult situations, your attitude remains the key to your happiness. Material success, however, can be a problem, but don't let your goals get in your way. Do whatever makes you feel good about yourself now and the money will follow. There still may be feelings that need to be shared; express them with abundant love. Don't push too hard; you will know when the time is right."
**in case you are unaware of aughra and the dark crystal, click HERE.
Snap Out of the Funk...
i apologize for the deluge of youtube videos as of late, and yet here is another one. although this video is not so much about the images, as the song itself. it's much easier to post a youtube video with the song, than to try and find a place to host an mp3, so i'm afraid this is the best i could do for now.
i woke up in a strange funk today, and now it's 1:30 in the morning again, and after sleeping most of the day away, the funk continues. i could joke about how guys get their period too, maybe not on such a rigorous schedule, but at least for me when it happens, everyone knows about it. so i try and keep to myself.
i cried for the first time in a long time today. i've come to some realizations that i'll have to accept, although i definately am not happy with. i have a shared responsibilty that i have had to bear on my own for some time now, and it seems, although i thought the end was near, i must continue to bear it on my own. i will keep my promise to myself though. i will still be a happier person than i used to be. i do plan on living more simply, as i had planned before. now, i just have another obstacle to get by in order to make myself happy and have my needs actually become mine.
after all, my life has always been about tales of winning and tales of losing, though mostly tales from that nether state in between where i have learned to live. this is just another lesson to prove my place.
I'm a Tuber.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
officially. not a potato or a yam kind of tuber, but an official youtuber. apparently when you round up enough videos in your favorites, it becomes official. i don't know that i would consider 97 videos a massive amount of 'favorites' compared to what i see on other people's youtube channels, but if the actual amount of time spent on youtube counts for anything, than not only am i an official youtuber, but i should be collecting a paycheck as well.
HERE ARE A FEW GEMS I'VE ROUNDED UP THIS WEEK:
what do axl rose and a sixty-something year old indian man have in common? they can both rock out a sweet version of gnr's 'sweet child of mine.' check it...
a timeline of mrs. butterworth's weight loss. she lies in the video though, she says that she's still "thick & rich." rich maybe, but she ain't thick no mo, that's fo sho. be sure to watch until the end, you don't want to miss the fist pound.
this song represents to me, the sheer awesomeness of music, on so many levels. first and foremost, because it has an AMAZING message hidden deep within an aurally pleasing tune; and it speaks to the new generation of today's youth with the use of technology. second, because how could a song with ex-fugee wyclef jean and the legendary paul simon not be awesome? it's impossible. look...
UPDATED: Last Night's Live F-Bomb...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
the videos of this darling appearance are up and down all over youtube, but this link still works. check out sue simmons droppin' f-bombs HERE.
serious double-take time last night. the lovely sue simmons, who has worked for wnbc in new york for 27 years slipped up last night on live tv and the country is outraged, according to the forums all over the net. don't be outraged that our president is a mildly retarded war-monger, be outraged that sue simmons said f*ck on tv. i knew i loved this country for a reason. Read more...
Mrs. Butterworth Lost Her Curves...
Monday, May 12, 2008
i didn't take this picture of mrs. butterworth and her hot sisters, but i do recall her with all those voluptuous curves. let's be serious, she used to have a fat ass. lately though, it seems like she's been hanging out with star jones. this morning when i picked her up to pour her warm gooeyness all over my flap-jacks, i noticed that she felt a little different. the other day when i partook in her services, i noticed something was different, but i couldn't quite place it. this morning i figured it out. she lost her ass; it used to be big and round, and she had a bit of a belly. now she's flat, front and back. what's that all about? take a look at this picture that i did take, and try to forgive the fact that she's white from the neck down, that be a whole other blog entry. she is still tasty though, so at least she's still got that going for her; but i'm curious, am i really the only one that noticed?
BUSH SUCKS. DICK cheney too.
'Tis the Season to Wear 'dem Flip-Flops!
i haven't determined exactly when; whether it happened in my past life, or if it's going to happen in my next life, but i am determined to have a life where i am eternally a fifty-something year old, white haired, sun tanned, leather-skinned hippie living in a bungalow on the beach in the florida keys somewhere. still working at the 'local' bar, listening to jimmy buffett's greatest hits on a tinny-sounding boombox, bartending in shorts, a crazy shirt, and most importantly FLIP-FLOPS. i'll ride a bike to get groceries and have a cat named 'sven.' my dog 'fin,' who gets along great with sven, will wander the beach in search of snacks from tourists and bask in the sun for the remainder of his day. i'll smoke hand-rolled cigarettes and drink red stripes. i'll sleep in a hammock and my 'guest room' will be my old vw bus parked out back. maybe i'll even go back to my old nickname 'fish,' which wouldn't be so out-of-place in these surroundings. i'd be a hip daddio.
i can't tell you how happy it made me to type that out. i really have thought about that a lot and have always wondered why i knew so many of the details. i've stopped wondering. now i just pray that i haven't screwed up so horribly that my next life will follow my tale. the reason that i'm actually writing this, is because i found my summer 2008 flip-flops. the pair of flip-flops that i must have for the summer. for those who know me, i'd do well in ethiopia because of my ease of not wearing foot garments. i'd love to be barefoot all the time, but since that's not always an option flips are my standby. in the winter when flops just won't do, i wear crocs unless otherwise necessary. the really funny thing is i also LOVE shoes. i have way too many pairs. more pairs than most women that i know, i just don't like wearing them so much. and the other funny thing... I HATE FEET. there is no such thing as "cute," "pretty," or "nice" feet. ALL feet are disgusting. mariska hargitay, the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth, has ugly feet. i promise. take a look next time you're in the shower, they are disgusting. even mine.
but anyway... i found new flops on www.simpleshoes.com. a site for which i have purchased many a shoe from in the past. i believe i currently have 3 pairs in my collection. they are fantastic. and these eco-flops, like most simple brand shoes, also have other added benefits. they're made of recycled tires and sustainable and biodegradable parts. and this pair also supports www.stopglobalwarming.org. so the way i see it, i pay $65, i get a sweet pair of enviro-friendly flips and maybe, just maybe my proceeds will help that damn ozone layer. it's a win-win. i highly recommend 'em. check it.
Wow! What An Action Packed Weekend...
Sunday, May 11, 2008
as the sun goes down and i sit here sipping on this delicious brew i can't help but ponder the last 72 or so hours. my action packed weekend full of revelations, celebrations and delicious libations; not necessarily in that order. i don't think i can even remember how long it's been since i've been as productive as i was in the past few days...
the long weekend began with a 'revelation' in the biblical sense, when i heard the joyous (sarcasm implied) news that mama duggar's uterus was being tortured again. i previously promised that i wouldn't get into that again, so i encourage you to read my posts from earlier this weekend regarding the over-populating duggar family. let's just call that revelation #1 and move on.
revelation #2 is my favorite kind of revelation; and funny how it came about so shortly after my blogs about music last week. like i've said a thousand times before, my love for music is rooted in the feelings that come over me when i hear certain tunes and lyrics. my path crossed with one such song this weekend, and i've been listening to a snippet ever since. the song is 'stuck on you' by lionel richie, however the version that i've been overplaying is by jason mraz and his djembe playing sidekick toca rivera. you can listen to it HERE, but it only lasts for the first minute of the video, so you don't have to watch the whole 8 minutes.
if you just listened to that song, it creates a nice segue into revelation #3 which actually has two parts. the sentiment of that song is just so fantastic. not even in a mushy and sentimental way, but in such a pure truth kind of way, if that makes any sense to anyone other than me. and with that sentiment came the realization of:
A) it's really NEVER too late to make new friends. i have and continue to make plenty of acquaintances, but true friends aren't just the people that you've known forever. true friends are the ones that you gravitate towards and that love you for exactly who you are. nothing more, nothing less. and for those people that have become 'good friends' of mine lately, i'm sorry it took this long to realize it, but thanks.
and,
B) you NEVER really know people. i guess it goes back to keeping secrets from yourself and keeping secrets from others, but i realize that some people don't want you to get to know them, and that's fine by me. acquaintances are fine, if you'd prefer that over friends. but i'm tired of being in one sided relationships. i've been on both sides of the 'one sided fence' before, and i'm trying to put that behind me. my efforts are much more valuable being applied in friendships elsewhere. i'm a happier person now, i won't let it bother me.
and now on to the celebrations. this was the really action packed part. mother's day, obviously. my sister and her husband celebrated their one year wedding anniversary. ethan, my pseudo-nephew turned one. and least important of all, even less important than myself having a long and relaxing bowel movement, was dubbya's daughter's wedding. i believe it was jenna that got hitched, or maybe barbara. i don't know, let's just say the ugly one and move on.
and on we go, to the divine mother's day libations. their was plenty of yuengling to be consummed at el casa de moldovanyi for the occasion. it started at breakfast, and although i should be shot for it, MY MOM made it. i know, i know, but i slept through it and ate cold pancakes upon my rising from the dead. it's sunday and my pops is oldschool so we ate dinner at about 3. i made some down south bbq ribs. vinegar sauce and all. i know they're friends with paula dean and all but let me just tell you, the neely's don't have sh*t on my bbq ribs. truth be told. served up with homemade coleslaw and haricots du porc. (pork & beans out of a can, i was just trying to make them sound fancy.) it was a mighty fine ending to an eventful weekend, if i do say so myself. i feel full, festive and in general... emotionally content.
AND ON ONE OTHER COMPLETELY RANDOM MUSICAL NOTE... I'VE BECOME A FAN OF TWO MORE DIVINE BANDS THIS WEEKEND. TOTALLY NEW, FOR ME AT LEAST, HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD OF EITHER UNTIL... THIS GINORMOUS WEEKEND OF ...ATIONS!
CHECK OUT:
(how could a rockin' band with a cello NOT be cool?)
AND
RUSTIC OVERTONES
(or for that matter, a rockin' band with a honkin' horn section?)
Happy Mother's Day...
i know, i know, it's not the typical mother's day greeting, but it made you laugh didn't it? this lovely mother's day rant is from chef john mcdowell, a chef & cartoonist up in connecticut. you can check out his strips on his myspace blog by clicking the banner below.
mom's: go entertain yourself reading his strips while the kiddies make your breakfast.
kiddies: get cookin,' french toast is always nice.
seriously though, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to all you moms out there!
Anniversario Primo...
happy anniversary! i love you guys!
Going For The Trifecta...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
"Who are you to judge? Who are you to say that the more than slightly creepy 39-year-old woman from Arkansas who just gave birth to her 16th child yes that's right 16 kids and try not to cringe in phantom vaginal pain when you say it, who are you to say Michelle Duggar is not more than a little unhinged and sad and lost?
And furthermore, who are you to suggest that her equally troubling husband -- whose name is, of course, Jim Bob and he's hankerin' to be a Republican senator and try not to wince in sociopolitical pain when you say that -- isn't more than a little numb to the real world, and that bringing 16 hungry mewling attention-deprived kids (and she wants more! Yay!) into this exhausted world zips right by "touching" and races right past "disturbing" and lurches its way, heaving and gasping and sweating from the karmic armpits, straight into "Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you people?"
But that would be, you know, mean. Mean and callous to suggest that this might be the most disquieting photo you see all year, this bizarre Duggar family of 18 spotless white hyperreligious interchangeable people with alarmingly bad hair, the kids ranging in ages from 1 to 17, worse than those nuked Smurfs in that UNICEF commercial and worse than all the horrific rubble in Pakistan and worse than the cluster-bomb nightmare that is Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise having a child as they suck the skin from each other's Scientological faces and even worse than that huge 13-foot python which ate that six-foot alligator and then exploded.
It's wrong to be this judgmental. Wrong to suggest that it is exactly this kind of weird pathological protofamily breeding-happy gluttony that's making the world groan and cry and recoil, contributing to vicious overpopulation rates and unrepentant economic strain and a bitter moral warpage resulting from a massive viral outbreak of homophobic neo-Christians across our troubled and Bush-ravaged land. Or is it?
Is it wrong to notice how all the Duggar kids' names start with the letter J (Jeremiah and Josiah and Jedediah and Jesus, someone please stop them), and that if you study the above photo (or the even more disturbing family Web site) too closely you will become rashy and depressed and you will crave large quantities of alcohol and loud aggressive music to deflect the creeping feeling that this planet is devolving faster than you can suck the contents from a large bong? But I'm not judging.
I have a friend who used to co-babysit (yes, it required two sitters) for a family of 10 kids, and she reports that they were, almost without fail, manic and hyper and bewildered and attention deprived in the worst way, half of them addicted to prescription meds to calm their neglected nerves and the other half bound for years of therapy due to complete loss of having the slightest clue as to who they actually were, lost in the family crowd, just another blank, needy face at the table. Is this the guaranteed affliction for every child of very large families? Of course not. But I'm guessing it's more common than you imagine.
What's more, after the 10th kid popped out, the family doctor essentially prohibited the baby-addicted mother from having any more offspring, considering the pummeling endured by her various matronly systems, and it's actually painful to imagine the logistics, the toll on Michelle Duggar's body, the ravages it has endured to give birth to roughly one child per year for nearly two decades, and you cannot help but wonder about her body and its various biological and sexual ... no, no, it is not for this space to visualize frighteningly capacious vaginal dimensions. It is not for this space to imagine this couple's soggy sexual mutations. We do not have enough wine on hand for that.
Perhaps the point is this: Why does this sort of bizarre hyperbreeding only seem to afflict antiseptic megareligious families from the Midwest? In other words -- assuming Michelle and Jim Bob and their massive brood of cookie-cutter Christian kidbots will all be, as the charming photo suggests, never allowed near a decent pair of designer jeans or a tolerable haircut from a recent decade, and assuming that they will all be tragically encoded with the values of the homophobic asexual Christian right -- where are the forces that shall help neutralize their effect on the culture? Where is the counterbalance, to offset the damage?
Where is, in other words, the funky tattooed intellectual poetess who, along with her genius anarchist husband, is popping out 16 funky progressive intellectually curious fashion-forward pagan offspring to answer the Duggar's squad of über-white future Wal-Mart shoppers? Where is the liberal, spiritualized, pro-sex flip side? Verily I say unto thee, it ain't lookin' good.
Perhaps this the scariest aspect of our squishy birthin' tale: Maybe the scales are tipping to the neoconservative, homogenous right in our culture simply because they tend not to give much of a damn for the ramifications of wanton breeding and environmental destruction and pious sanctimony, whereas those on the left actually seem to give a whit for the health of the planet and the dire effects of overpopulation. Is that an oversimplification?
Why does this sort of thoughtfulness seem so far from the norm? Why is having a stadiumful of offspring still seen as some sort of happy joyous thing?
You already know why. It is the Biggest Reason of All. Children are, after all, God's little gifts. Kids are little blessings from the Lord, the Almighty's own screaming spitballs of joy. Hell, Jim Bob said so himself, when asked if the couple would soon be going for a 17th rug rat: "We both just love children and we consider each a blessing from the Lord. I have asked Michelle if she wants more and she said yes, if the Lord wants to give us some she will accept them." This is what he actually said. And God did not strike him dead on the spot.
Let us be clear: I don't care what sort of God you believe in, it's a safe bet that hysterical breeding does not top her list of desirables. God does not want more children per acre than there are ants or mice or garter snakes or repressed pedophilic priests. We already have three billion humans on the planet who subsist on less than two dollars a day. Every other child in the world (one billion of them) lives in abject poverty. We are burning through the planet's resources faster than a Republican can eat an endangered caribou stew. Note to Michelle Duggar: If God wanted you to have a massive pile of children, she'd have given your uterus a hydraulic pump and a revolving door. Stop it now.
Ah, but this is America, yes? People should be allowed to do whatever the hell they want with their families if they can afford it and if it's within the law and so long as they aren't gay or deviant or happily flouting Good Christian Values, right? Shouldn't they? Hell, gay couples still can't openly adopt a baby in most states (they either lie, or one adopts and the other must apply as "co-parent"), but Michelle Duggar can pop out 16 kids and no one says, oh my freaking God, stop it, stop it now, you thoughtless, selfish, baby-drunk people.
No, no one says that. That would be mean."
me again, i swear, i'm done talking about these wackos. i promise. well, at least until baby #19. Read more...
Nevermind The Tater Tots...
"The other day I was reading an issue of People magazine (it's educational, you know) and they had an article on the Duggars. Apparently Mama Duggar and man-stud Jim Bob are expecting baby number seventeen. Or baby eighteen. At this point, the number is really not important as you can be rest assured that said baby's status in the Duggar household will be short-lived and he will be cast aside like a stained onesie at a garage sale once weaned, leaving Mama Duggar to get her insatiable baby fix from the next baby and the next until her uterus drops to the floor and tells both Madame Duggar and Jim Bob to eff off for good and takes off for Mexico with the first truck driver who picks it up while hitchhiking on I-40.
That poor uterus.
Whatever number baby it was, the article was accompanied by a list of various and sundry items the family goes through a month including, and I am liberally paraphrasing here because I don't expect you to fact check this, about 3000 pounds of tater tots, thirteen tubs of Crisco, and 14 dozen jars of Miracle Whip. But what I am not paraphrasing is this: The Duggars ONLY use twelve rolls of toilet paper. TWELVE. How is that even possible? I can personally go through that much in a week. Now admittedly, when I grab a wad of toilet paper, it's likely to resemble a pom pom. And not the new kind of tiny pom poms that today's wimpy cheerleaders carry. I'm talking about the old school kind from back when I was a youngster, the big-assed kind that are easily four times bigger than your head. Yeah, that much toilet paper.
So maybe the Duggars are more economical than I am. I understand that. But assuming that there are at least eighteen ass wipers in the Duggar household (if the smallest Duggar is still in diapers), that's still slightly less than half a roll a week. Paris Hilton got more than that in jail and you know what a tragedy that was!
Um, anyway, that's all I've got on that. It's just that I've been mulling over this for a while and I really had to get it off my chest. I'd like to write more about it, but I just realized my left boob is still hanging out from my pumping session a few minutes ago and I have to reign it in.
Before it takes off for Mexico."
i'm back, butter here, it's me again... while doing research for the earlier post on said topic, i came across this blog entry and felt that it was worthy of posting. funny how year old news is new again. if you have a minute, follow the link at the top to the original blog; the comments are priceless! Read more...
They Haven't Listened Bob...
i've been struggling all day about how i was going to go about writing about this. this family's behavior has irked me for years, in duggar-time, since baby #14. i've seen the 'specials' on the discovery channel, i've read the articles in people magazine and i've watched them unknowingly make complete a**holes out of themselves on national television.
the latter, i witnessed again this morning on the today show. they were on for a follow-up segment about ludicrous baby #17, and to celebrate mama duggar for being an excellent mother; to which she responded with the surprise announcement that she was f*cking knocked up again. i use the term 'mother' here loosely. i know parents who struggle with the too few hours in day raising one or two children; the juggling of a career, cooking, cleaning, etc... yet the people i know, the real mothers, will deprive themselves the extra hour of sleep to be sure they have quality time to spend with their child or children. how is it humanly possible for two parents to 'mother' 17, soon to be 18, children?
brainwashing. mommy and daddy are merely the factory. the older kids raise the younger ones. none of the children leave the house. like most families of the quiverfull faith, they are all home schooled and un-socialized. they have no idea what the real world is like, because they are sheltered from it. the producers of the today show whisked several of the older children away to buy mom mother's day gifts, and upon learning of this on live tv, mama duggar gasped. what, in of all places, new york city, were her poor sheltered children exposed to? a homeless man sleeping on the street? an asian artist sketching faces? a hodgepodge band of bucket drummers? or maybe even the naked cowboy? oh no!
i don't pray much, but like the jessop's that escaped the polygamist cult in texas, i pray that someday some of these kids have a chance. i hope that the god that they believe in so strongly gives them the will to run away, change their name and live the american dream with a significant other and a child or two. i hope that the cruel and unusual way of life that they are trapped in right now doesn't scar them for life, and i sincerely hope that none of them take out their anti-social anxiety on a public place, from the top of a bell tower one day...
Manboobs...
Thursday, May 08, 2008
so they say that things happen in groups of three. or is that just bad things? well, whatever the case, the other day i made the photo above for my good friend margz out in seattle; after she lovingly sent this photo that she mistook for being my dad. (margz, by the way, is going to be the next britney spears. hopefully not in the crazy, head shaved mother kind of way, but brit-brit nonetheless. just check out the player at the bottom of this post and you'll know EXACTLY what i'm talking about!) so anyway, today i sign onto myspace and this annoying little ad pops up on my homepage. you know, that supposedly gives you free ringtones if you 'help the chicken cross the road,' or 'arm wrestle george dubbya,' or 'shave rosie o'donnell's legs' or my favorite where they give you a pair of scissors and you have to 'chop off the redneck's mullet.' anyway, you get the drift. today, i found this new one on my page. and how fitting being that i made the above manboob picture earlier this week. i swear on all that is buttery, I DID NOT alter the picture, other than circling the words 'fat man' at the top, to accentuate the fact that the boobs are indeed on a man. though you cannot see it, he's bouncing on a trampoline so it's difficult for you to hit him with the pies... he bounces, and so do they, and thus, those manboobs are real.
AS PROMISED, MARGZ'S GREATEST HIT...
A Cheap Bastard...
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
and now, a post from special guest blogger, 57 year-old, newark taxi driver, mohamed khalil:**
a few weeks ago, on april 21, i picked up a collar-popped yuppie wannabe with a violin case at newark airport; my last fare before heading home for the night. after arriving at his destination and stopping the meter, he handed me $40 for his $39 fare and said heroically "keep the change." i fakely smiled and waited for him after he closed the door, to see if he was going to try and cross the street; because after all of that and a long day of work, i was feeling a little frisky and wanted to play a little game of chicken. no dice.
the next day was my first day off in two weeks, so i decided to kick back and watch maury povich with my hookah and a nice bowl of kava. and what to my wondering eyes should appear but my collar-popped yuppie with a red tinge to his ears. he was begging and pleading for any information regarding his lost violin, which he had left in his taxicab on his way back from the airport. after recognizing him, i check the back seat of my pimped out taxi with rims, and low and behold, there was his beloved violin. i made contact with him through the information on the news, and arranged a meeting to return his violin. the next day i reluctantly met with him again and returned his crusty old violin and he gave me a $100 reward.
the next day on the news, i find out that that 'crusty' viloin was made in 1723. it didn't belong to mr. philippe quint, he had borrowed it from some kabillionaires in upstate new york. it's valued at 4 MILLION DOLLARS! a 4 million dollar violin that this dumbass leaves in a taxi, and i get $100 bucks? oh, and least i forget the 'free' 30 minute concert at the taxi-stand at newark airport. thanks phil, you're generosity is deeply appreciated. i'll remember that next time you cheap bastard. i should have sold it on ebay!
**mohamed khalil had absolutely nothing to do with the actual writing of this entry. and to the contrary, he did not expect nor want any reward for returning the instrument. he made several comments about how he had merely done 'what any good american would have done.' the 57 year-old khalil emmigrated to the united states from egypt in 1980 and is a proud citizen of the united states.
here's a bit more info.
Stepping Out...
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
here's just one example of the support that comes from the readers of this site, that started as a personal release, and has turned into a whirlwind! thanks to the cray & bickford family blog, i've even gotten some more ideas for helping with the 'housing crisis' that is far from a crisis, thanks to craigslist and couchsurfers everywhere! HERE is the blog that she wrote for me, one of which i appreciate very much! thank you mama cray!
The Itchy Palm Scandal...
Monday, May 05, 2008
after searching the web all week, and trying to figure out what the hell was making my hands itch like a bastard, i think i finally figured it out.
thank you to all that recommended benadryl and/or caladryl that didn't do crap for the palms. i guess i'll just have to deal with my first, and hopefully last, allergy with no assistance from anything other than a voodoo doctor.
sodium benzoate and/or sodium bisulfite. that's the crap that i'm allergic to. i think. thank god it's not the mangoes that i have been eating the hell out of, or i may have climbed a mango tree and hung myself from the vines. in case you're wondering, sodium benzoate and sodium bisulfite are used as preservatives in many food products, and is naturally found in acidic food products. my dad makes pickled sauerkraut, it's a hungarian thing, that is used as a condiment in hungarian cooking. everytime i eat it, itch ahoy!
i did find some other interesting possibilities while i was researching the possible causes on the net. here are two of the funnier ones:
A Cinco de Mayo Greeting From The Sausage Queen of Deerfield Beach...
one too many horrible experiences cause me NOT to toast you today with an ice cold corona, however i will tip my delicious margarita your way on this drunken holiday. happy cinco de mayo folks!
The Proverbial Gutter...
Sunday, May 04, 2008
i haven't posted a photo in a while, but i came across this gem today. although it's a crude and ignorant photo, it is one of my favorites; with rex & dallon, the san diego troublemakers. notice my ever-present SuFi and my shirt that reads 'i french kissed kelly kapowski.' i snatched the quote from my sister, i think it's going to be my new personal credo.
My Soundtrack...
Friday, May 02, 2008
i've been thinking long and hard about how to respond to all of the emails that i received after posting 'james earl jones and a liter of bourbon' a few weeks back. i tried to respond to as many as i could, but i must say that eventually started copying and pasting my response, as it was far too much to type over and over again. i especially enjoyed all of the comments along the lines of 'chocolate rain' is a catchy song, but i don't get him at all... to this day, my friends, i don't either. my guess would be that tay zonday's popularity stems from the curiosity of people wondering: is he serious? could he be serious? this has to be a joke, and the like. curiosity has killed the cat this time, making his youtube videos some of the most popular on the site. and with hit counters jumping, it must just fuel his desire to make more, because he thinks everyone just loves his music.
so the majority of the emails were asking about the music that i listen to, and frequently included a question about 'do you listen to ________?' so do i make a list? do i jumble together a few short lists by genre? i still don't know as i sit here typing this, how it will come together, but i'll figure it out and make it work.
let me start off by saying this: music is a huge part of my life, without it things would be so boring. could you imagine a movie without a soundtrack? a play without a score? a roadtrip without an ipod? music is amazing, the way it can transport you somewhere else or hold you in a moment forever... a time, a place, a person, can be subconsciously ingrained in your memory forever with a simple tune or lyric...
if you asked about my 'favorite' music, i would say: what genre? what day? what's my mood? my taste in music is ever-changing and ever-expanding. i tend to circle around old classics like james taylor, csny, cat stevens & carole king, with a little weather report, mixed with a lot of maroon 5, topped with a healthy helping of justin timberlake and jason mraz, garnished with a dollop of zach macko & far north and a sprinkling of colbie caillat. cipes and the people is simmering in my cd player right now, with lady antebellum on the back burner, and billy joel's "summer, highland falls" has been on the last ump-teen playlists i've made. i listen to music to rock out at times and veg out at others. imogen heap goes well with a nice dinner, while cascada goes really well with dancing, and harry chapin always relaxes me. what more can i say? music is me.
so i came across an interesting bulletin on myspace the other day, where you put your itunes on shuffle, and fill in the songs as they pop up to make your 'life soundtrack.' i figured that would be a good list to fill in, without the shuffle mode of course, to tell you a bit more about me and the tunes that i listen to. so, if my life had a soundtrack, it would look something like this...
BEGINNING CREDITS: rain king - counting crows
WAKING UP: sleeping to dream - jason mraz
MOM: 100 years - five for fighting
DAD: cat in the cradle - harry chapin
MY SISTER RO: wagon wheel - old crow medicine show
MY SISTER CHRISTI: least complicated - the indigo girls
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL: fly - cipes and the people
FALLING IN LOVE: magic - colbie caillat
FIRST SONG: tiny dancer - elton john
BREAKING UP: summer, highland falls - billy joel
POP SONG: love song - sara bareilles
THE HIGH SCHOOL YEARS: yearbook - hanson
PROM: time after time - cyndi lauper
FIGHT SONG: enemy - sevendust
LIFE: everyday - james taylor/life - keller williams
THE COLLEGE YEARS: the world ain't slowing down - ellis paul
DRUNKEN STUPOR: willow tree - g. love & the special sauce
MENTAL BREAKDOWN: pacing the cage - jimmy buffett
STARTING OVER: going away - the clark family experience
DRIVING: southern cross - crosby, stills, nash & young
ENTERING THE 'REAL WORLD': billy - james blunt
GETTING BACK TOGETHER: caught up in you - .38 special
MID-LIFE CRISIS: fool in the rain - led zeppelin
WEDDING: only you - yazoo
BIRTH OF CHILD: float on - modest mouse
REFLECTING ON LIFE: tapestry - carole king/heartbeats - jose gonzales
HOLIDAYS: celebrate me home - kenny loggins
THE 'SENIOR' YEARS: reelin' in the years - steely dan
FINAL BATTLE: numb/encore - jay-z & linkin park
FLASHBACK: here in this diary - the ataris
DEATH SCENE: falling down - ben jelen
FUNERAL: the only promise that remains - reba mcentire & justin timberlake
END CREDITS: the words - zach macko & far north/simple man - lynyrd skynyrd
BLOOPERS: can't get it right today - joe purdy
of course that's not all of my favorites, but it's a good selection of the music i love. it's strongly riddled with indie artists from myspace, as much of the time that's where the great music really comes from...
Sweet, Sweet, Chocolate Love...
Thursday, May 01, 2008
as you all know, it's not a holiday around here on the site without an awesome vid from JayVideo. you know the ones: misunderstood st. patrick's day, those cute little chocolate bunnies reproducing on easter, or my personal favorite 'chocolate love' on valentine's day.
jay & leah, the masterminds behind those gems, are up for a people's choice award for 'chocolate love,' for best digital animated short.
if you love those videos as much as you tell me you do, please take a minute to go cast your vote by clicking this divine little button:
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