Friday, December 5, 2008

Pig Licking in Space


Ah, Friday.

Friday with its promise of exotic weekend fun and its propensity for blogquizzes, memes and pig-licking.

[SUMMARY: You can dress a pig up. It's still a pig.]


I *am* knitting.

Only, I'm knitting the ubiquitous Noro stripey scarf and I would be too embarrassed to post a WIP photo. I may even be too embarrassed to post it when it's finished. It's just been so... done.

There's also the Purple Prose scarf, which hasn't seen a frogging since the dropped-stitch mishap of two weeks ago and is well over half done. As you know, pictures of unblocked lace tend to look like yarn barf or crumpled tissue,% so I'm foregoing that pleasure as well.§

But this is still a knitblog and I am still knitting. You'll just have to take my word for it.

[SUMMARY: I don't ask much.]


I went to the BroncosRaiders game a couple of weeks ago. It is the first sporting event I've left before the buzzer since I missed watching a Buffs comeback in 1990# because the Air Force precision drill team on whose ticket I went wanted to beat traffic.††

It was that abyssmal.

I took all the festive photos, just like last year. In the end, this may be the only picture of note:

It looks a little like a Koolhaas licensed by the NFL.

[SUMMARY: Go Broncos! Take your stupid cheerleaders with you!]


It's hard to believe, but I think CBS Outdoors has found an even weirder billboard than Chas and Terry.

We've had many lively discussions on this one.

Not just for the concept of, "OK, so I was driving down the road, trying to get to the grocery store before rush hour, when I saw this billboard and it hit me: I can DONATE my boat!"

Not just for the ill-advised colour selection.‡‡

The best conversation was probably the one where we§§ realised that boat has lips and eyes.

I don't know that it's as creepy as Chas and Terry, but I believe it may be more disconcerting.

[SUMMARY: Somebody has too much time on her hands.]


Hans left yesterday for Decorah, Iowa, to take his girfriend to visit her brother, who is attending college there.

This is notable¶¶ for two reasons:
  1. Hans swore, after getting much grief from all quarters for his globe-trotting ways and impeccable timing in leaving for Thailand at precisely the time when we needed two warm bodies battling the bugs of divestiture, that he wasn't going to be gone for the rest of the year. This declaration was quickly followed with, "Well, except for Iowa in November. But that doesn't count." So we refer to this as the Trip that Never Was. And I think that's funny.
  2. I am related on my mother's side to half of Decorah. Maybe more. One of my favourite first-cousins-once-removed,## Dennis,††† curates‡‡‡ the Porter House Museum there.

On a cheerful note, I was behind this kindred spirit in traffic the other day:

It's good to have peeps.


I'm not even going to post the perfume bit I'd thought to do today. It's one I smelled while the aforementioned Hans was in the aforementioned Thailand and I thought to myself, "Screw him. I smelled it without him, he left me here to go see Dennis, I'm posting without him."

But then I saw it was a lovely warm, woody, unisex floral that I had billed as "balloon and hot electronics," so I think I'll wait until I can smell again and give it a second chance.




Yeah, next Friday I'll probably just do a meme or a some quiz on which Twilight character§§§ I am.

Or I'll take more cough medicine and *really* make it a party.¶¶¶

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Curse you, Yarn Harlot!

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And you know I'm always looking to be undone.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Another Yarn Harlot observation. I'm not sure whether to curse her for taking all the good ones or bless her for making it easy for me to cop out on lace photos.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You're welcome.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Or 1991. Maybe 1992. In any case, it is one of the two most annoying tales in my repertoire, the other one being how I will never, ever rip the wrapping off a present again since the time I gave into my mother's frustration and ripped the dust jacket of a lovely collector's edition of Alice in Wonderland. There's nothing snottier than a person who is irritating with cause.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): A game now famous, on all the Sports Illustrated lists... a game I get to say, "I was there," when people bring it up, but have to say, "No, I didn't see the ending. It sounded exciting from the parking lot, though."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Still bitter.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I know purple and yellow are technically contrasting colours and good for things like billboards but... yucch.

§§FOOTNOTE (like shivers up my spine): And by "we," I mean, "I." My minion Mike had just asked, "Why does the boat have lips," and I jumped in to say, "I think that's a lipstick print 'cause somebody kissed the boat 'cause it's a boat angel." Hans said, "No... it has teeth. And there are eyes up on the bridge, too."

I need glasses.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two notes): My definition of notable, that is.

##FOOTNOTE (tic-tac-toeing the line): I'm not being flip. When your mom has about 200 first cousins and they all have upwards of ten kids, the whole "cousins" issue begins to require some precision to have any meaning at all.

†††FOOTNOTE (you can't be cross with Dennis): Dennis is gay. Given the statistics, he can't possibly be the only gay member of the Ohlert family, but he's the only one who will cop to it. Hey, when a large chunk of your large family is midwestern farming German Catholic, a gay man who runs a museum is like a bird of paradise among daisies.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (follow my train of thought): Or not. He may just sit on the board. Or decorate. Curate is a prettier word.

§§§FOOTNOTE (there is a season, turn, turn, turn): I'm still waiting for someone to tell me why so many witty, intelligent women are so in love with that piece of literary dross.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (pull the lever, cast your vote): I bet y'all are hoping I don't come up with anything better so you can find out which Twilight character I am.

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