TTHFCIF
I think this is a really good way to start a Friday.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Evolution on Easter†
Once upon a time of changing family dynamics,‡ two boys went to the Denver Museum of Nature & Science with their dad, their grandpa and their dear ol' AntiM.
Every exhibit started with a movie.§
In the Space Odyssey, there was a really boring movie with no rockets or asteroid fields or supernovas and some of the grown ups¶ in the group wondered how in the hell the museum planned to keep kids interested.
Fortunately, Dave Cuomo showed up# and saved the day with a reasonably engaging Q&A about what hurricanes and big cities and Dubai look like from space.
Then the happy family went out amongst the displays and interactive educational experiences and played to their collective hearts' content. Tallest Hairiest Nephew liked to push buttons -- any buttons -- and Dr. Doom went to the museum to shoot things.
One toy they all played with was the shooting-metal-balls-into-the-sand thingie.††
A video recorder captured all the scientific action, after which whomever was big enough and strong enough to muscle everybody else away from the controls could watch it backwards and in slow motion.
This is what it looked like when AntiM shot the ball into the sand‡‡:
What scientific lesson was to be learned from this was unclear, but it was button-pushing, shooting-stuff, video-editing fun for the whole family.
Once Space Odyssey ceased to capture the attention of certain short attention spanketeers,§§ they moved on to the Prehistoric Journey, more fondly known as "dinosaurs."
Of course, no self-respecting prehistoric exhibit gives you dinosaurs right off the bat. AntiM and the boys puttered through many dioramas of trilobites and the crinoids and brachiopods they lived and loved with in the Cambrian world.¶¶
They learned one very important thing:
"Well, duh," said AntiM.
"What?" asked Tallest Hairiest Nephew.
"What? Nothing!" said AntiM.
"You said, 'duh.' Duh what?"
"Where's your dad?"##
So they moved on to the dinosaur bone room††† where they were just in time to catch the dinosaur repairman‡‡‡ with that part that was ordered nearly a year ago.§§§
"Yay!" said the intrepid explorers.
They headed to the rock exhibit, where there were no good picutres to be had. Then Dr. Doom announced he was ready to go home.¶¶¶
They lunched on crackers and ham and tiny carrots and Danish puff### and lived happily ever after.
The End
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Am I going to hell for the evolution thing or bridging the worlds of science and theology through my saintly works?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Understatement of the century.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The dinosaur movie had a narrator with a mild speech impediment. I said, "Mawiage..." and Brother and I giggled madly.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And I use the term loosely.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): OK, it wasn't actually Dave Cuomo, but it LOOKED like Dave Cuomo, it SOUNDED like Dave Cuomo and it even LAUGHED like Dave Cuomo. I went to college with Dave Cuomo. Turns out Dave Cuomo looks, sounds and laughs a lot like Dustin Hoffman.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I have better pictures, but I like this one because Brother looks like a light bulb.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): That would be a video of a video, which I'm pretty sure is meta.
§§FOOTNOTE (don't get confused): Span-keteer, not spank-eteer. That's a whole other subject, which I'm pretty sure shouldn't involve my five-year-old nephew.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (bunny ears!): My version of the Cambrian world resembles Peyton Place more than the Burgess Shale.
##FOOTNOTE (pounding a dead horse): To Brother: "I get saint points for today, right?"
"I think you get saint points if you actually come back from the dead on Easter."
"Did you *see* me Friday night?"
†††FOOTNOTE (Oh, Golgotha): That would be the room where the dinosaur bones are, rather than the room where dinosaurs go to bone. Though that would be interesting too.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (wires are crossed): You get an appointment and they say, "Some time between ten am and five pm and you go out real quick to drop the mail off and you come back to a tag flapping on your front door that says, "Sorry we missed you"...
§§§FOOTNOTE (giddy with laughter): I crack me up.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (bunny hops!): Which is a little like pulling the pin from a grenade.
###FOOTNOTE (pounding the pastry): Danish puff is something that Mom used to make almost every Easter. It has almost no sugar, about a pound of butter and enough almond extract to disguise a gallon of cyanide. It's the one thing Brother requested for Easter dinner.
Every exhibit started with a movie.§
In the Space Odyssey, there was a really boring movie with no rockets or asteroid fields or supernovas and some of the grown ups¶ in the group wondered how in the hell the museum planned to keep kids interested.
Fortunately, Dave Cuomo showed up# and saved the day with a reasonably engaging Q&A about what hurricanes and big cities and Dubai look like from space.
Then the happy family went out amongst the displays and interactive educational experiences and played to their collective hearts' content. Tallest Hairiest Nephew liked to push buttons -- any buttons -- and Dr. Doom went to the museum to shoot things.
One toy they all played with was the shooting-metal-balls-into-the-sand thingie.††
A video recorder captured all the scientific action, after which whomever was big enough and strong enough to muscle everybody else away from the controls could watch it backwards and in slow motion.
This is what it looked like when AntiM shot the ball into the sand‡‡:
What scientific lesson was to be learned from this was unclear, but it was button-pushing, shooting-stuff, video-editing fun for the whole family.
Once Space Odyssey ceased to capture the attention of certain short attention spanketeers,§§ they moved on to the Prehistoric Journey, more fondly known as "dinosaurs."
Of course, no self-respecting prehistoric exhibit gives you dinosaurs right off the bat. AntiM and the boys puttered through many dioramas of trilobites and the crinoids and brachiopods they lived and loved with in the Cambrian world.¶¶
They learned one very important thing:
"Well, duh," said AntiM.
"What?" asked Tallest Hairiest Nephew.
"What? Nothing!" said AntiM.
"You said, 'duh.' Duh what?"
"Where's your dad?"##
So they moved on to the dinosaur bone room††† where they were just in time to catch the dinosaur repairman‡‡‡ with that part that was ordered nearly a year ago.§§§
"Yay!" said the intrepid explorers.
They headed to the rock exhibit, where there were no good picutres to be had. Then Dr. Doom announced he was ready to go home.¶¶¶
They lunched on crackers and ham and tiny carrots and Danish puff### and lived happily ever after.
The End
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Am I going to hell for the evolution thing or bridging the worlds of science and theology through my saintly works?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Understatement of the century.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The dinosaur movie had a narrator with a mild speech impediment. I said, "Mawiage..." and Brother and I giggled madly.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And I use the term loosely.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): OK, it wasn't actually Dave Cuomo, but it LOOKED like Dave Cuomo, it SOUNDED like Dave Cuomo and it even LAUGHED like Dave Cuomo. I went to college with Dave Cuomo. Turns out Dave Cuomo looks, sounds and laughs a lot like Dustin Hoffman.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I have better pictures, but I like this one because Brother looks like a light bulb.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): That would be a video of a video, which I'm pretty sure is meta.
§§FOOTNOTE (don't get confused): Span-keteer, not spank-eteer. That's a whole other subject, which I'm pretty sure shouldn't involve my five-year-old nephew.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (bunny ears!): My version of the Cambrian world resembles Peyton Place more than the Burgess Shale.
##FOOTNOTE (pounding a dead horse): To Brother: "I get saint points for today, right?"
"I think you get saint points if you actually come back from the dead on Easter."
"Did you *see* me Friday night?"
†††FOOTNOTE (Oh, Golgotha): That would be the room where the dinosaur bones are, rather than the room where dinosaurs go to bone. Though that would be interesting too.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (wires are crossed): You get an appointment and they say, "Some time between ten am and five pm and you go out real quick to drop the mail off and you come back to a tag flapping on your front door that says, "Sorry we missed you"...
§§§FOOTNOTE (giddy with laughter): I crack me up.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (bunny hops!): Which is a little like pulling the pin from a grenade.
###FOOTNOTE (pounding the pastry): Danish puff is something that Mom used to make almost every Easter. It has almost no sugar, about a pound of butter and enough almond extract to disguise a gallon of cyanide. It's the one thing Brother requested for Easter dinner.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Damning the Saint
Brother called Friday morning to say he and The Gov and Fuzzy G and maybe Magnet† were meeting for happy hour at the Coral Room.
I thought, "Why not?"‡
I debated over whether I would have a drink or try to stay true to my own idea of Lent.
Guess how long that debate lasted.§
I believe Ben was two tables away when I shouted, "Tempranillo! Please!"
[SUMMARY: Sainthood hasn't changed me a bit.]
Actually, I had given myself an out for emergency situations: if I'd hurt someone's feelings by not having a bite of birthday cake, if someone got engaged and anything but a champagne toast would be inappropriate, if someone got pregnant and a jug of Wild Turkey seemed wholly appropriate...
For someone who gave herself that many loopholes, I think I did remarkably well.
[SUMMARY: Auto-aspiratic horn blowing.]
Anyway, wine.
Wine.
Wine.
After the old Corral, grabbed a bite at Chipotle,¶ peed twice# and headed for the Hai Bar.
Shot.
Vodka.
Vodka.
Talk turned to getting brother a little action, seeing as he's wounded and divorced and needs to get back on some horse, maybe any horse. We were right in the middle of extolling the virtues of rebound sex when what to our wondering eyes should appear but a young woman who, in the dim light of the bar, could best be described as the love child of Robert Smith and Amy Winehouse.
Black chaos of hair, eyeliner as wide as a Wyoming sky. Lanky. Gawky.
So Bruce grabbed her and said, "Have you met my friend Bill?"
She told us her name was Erica†† and she was going to see Z-Trip and we should come. This excited the young folk to no end.
The old folk sucked her vodka ice cubes and tried not to feel her grey hairs glowing in the dark.
Brother and Bruce thought Z-Trip at Beta sounded like a *fantastic* idea.‡‡ Greg was interested in going home early, but allowed as how maybe he could be talked into it. And your dear ol' AntiM shrugged and said, "Sure. I can hang."
[SUMMARY: Enthusiasm is my middle name. Some of you may think it's Elizabeth, but that E is actually for Enthusiasm.]
So we cabbed to LoDo§§ and stood in line at the club.
Once inside, Crown and ginger ensued.¶¶
I tipped the bathroom attendent $20 because it was all the cash I had and nobody is going to work my soap pump for me and not be rewarded for it.##
We ran into Erica and she and I did a brief, happy girl dance together.†††
Later that evening, a very young, very drunk young man chose me for his own. I danced with him for a moment, then tried to get him to go on his way.
"You were really mean to him," said Brother later.
"I wasn't mean. I danced with him for a minute."
"Then you said, 'Make him go away.'"
"I believe what I said was, 'Step on him.'"
"Dude, you got hit on by a 22-year-old. You should be happy."
"Yeah, that was pretty cool."
[SUMMARY: That really was pretty cool.‡‡‡]
Z-Trip was interesting. He uses songs I know§§§ much of the time, which is an important component for my DJ well-being.
Y'know, the whole DJ-as-concert thing is a little weird. I can see a good DJ at a dance club being worth a following, but *watching* someone put other people's music together is like paying a premium price for a signed, numbered photograph of Starry Night.
Weird.
[SUMMARY: Old and feeble and you kids get off my lawn!]
Ish.
*************
Incense Rosé - Tauer Perfumes
Marin says: I totally fell in love with this. I think it is the hallmark of my undistinguished scent palate that I love big, spicy things.¶¶¶
With the spices, this is a tangy rose -- like a Tropicana -- rather than the prickly velvet of an American Beauty. The woods give it a darkish depth that makes me think of an opium den. There's something camphorous in the mid-hours of the perfume that speaks patchouli, but not too high and medicinal -- tempered by woods, for sure.
The incense isn't too churchy. In fact, I'm really impressed by the way the incense, wood and rose balance each other out. Nothing every shrieks or submits, they just fit together like a snake eating its own tail.###
The scent lasts for a long time and stays true to the core of itself through most of the journey. Oh, there are moments of higher camphor and moments of deeper woods and when it all boils off, it's more resiny that it was through the rest of the trip, but that tangy, spicy rose stays the course.
Andy Tauer says: Incense rosé is a mysterious fragrance built around smoking frankincense,$ with rose$ and citrus notes, and dark balsamic resins.
First, you might find a few rose petals, from a dark and spicy rose. The natural bergamot and Clementine essential oil, together with just a hint of cardamom play there with the natural rose absolute from Bulgaria.
The fragrance is lifted by orris notes, rendering it vibrant and clear. At the same time it is dark and rich, with castor and woody notes playing on the skin.
It is the Texan cedar wood, vetiver and the balsamic, dark and mysterious notes of myrrh and patchouli$ that are all dancing with the incense. This natural frankincense, CO2 extracted Boswellia serrata, is softened by balsamic labdanum and ambrein.
Brother says@: Woody.
[It's "Incense Rosé."]
Yes, it is.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): People actually call them by these names, though their parents probably still call them Adrian, Greg and Bruce.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): If the heathens are going to party in my house of worship, shall I not join them?
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Just about as long as it takes to say "Maundy Thursday."
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Except me. One side effect of drinking is it kills my appetite. Then I'm starving the next morning -- that's my version of a hangover.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Maybe that was just me.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Erica was actually lovely, just sporting unfortunate choices in hair and makeup.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Brother and Bruce may have had more to drink than I had by that point.
§§FOOTNOTE (just turn around and go home): LoDo on a Friday night is almost always a bad idea.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (that's me, sticking my tongue out): Not a fan, it turns out. Thought you should know.
##FOOTNOTE (pound that soap!): Heheheheheh...
†††FOOTNOTE (my cross to bear): You know.... squeal, air-kiss, boobboobboobboob and away.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (what are those things anyway?): Even if he was really drunk.
§§§FOOTNOTE (earworms): I haven't been able to get "Take On Me" out of my head since.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (that's me, bob-bob-bobbing my head): Heheheheheh...
###FOOTNOTE (tic tac toe in 3D): I've wanted to use that image for weeks. Thanks for giving me this opportunity.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): This was Friday night. I thought it an appropriate review for the occasion. The occasion being, of course, Friday night.
$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I would never have gotten Boswellia serrata, but by golly, I managed incense and rose.
I thought, "Why not?"‡
I debated over whether I would have a drink or try to stay true to my own idea of Lent.
Guess how long that debate lasted.§
I believe Ben was two tables away when I shouted, "Tempranillo! Please!"
[SUMMARY: Sainthood hasn't changed me a bit.]
Actually, I had given myself an out for emergency situations: if I'd hurt someone's feelings by not having a bite of birthday cake, if someone got engaged and anything but a champagne toast would be inappropriate, if someone got pregnant and a jug of Wild Turkey seemed wholly appropriate...
For someone who gave herself that many loopholes, I think I did remarkably well.
[SUMMARY: Auto-aspiratic horn blowing.]
Anyway, wine.
Wine.
Wine.
After the old Corral, grabbed a bite at Chipotle,¶ peed twice# and headed for the Hai Bar.
Shot.
Vodka.
Vodka.
Talk turned to getting brother a little action, seeing as he's wounded and divorced and needs to get back on some horse, maybe any horse. We were right in the middle of extolling the virtues of rebound sex when what to our wondering eyes should appear but a young woman who, in the dim light of the bar, could best be described as the love child of Robert Smith and Amy Winehouse.
Black chaos of hair, eyeliner as wide as a Wyoming sky. Lanky. Gawky.
So Bruce grabbed her and said, "Have you met my friend Bill?"
She told us her name was Erica†† and she was going to see Z-Trip and we should come. This excited the young folk to no end.
The old folk sucked her vodka ice cubes and tried not to feel her grey hairs glowing in the dark.
Brother and Bruce thought Z-Trip at Beta sounded like a *fantastic* idea.‡‡ Greg was interested in going home early, but allowed as how maybe he could be talked into it. And your dear ol' AntiM shrugged and said, "Sure. I can hang."
[SUMMARY: Enthusiasm is my middle name. Some of you may think it's Elizabeth, but that E is actually for Enthusiasm.]
So we cabbed to LoDo§§ and stood in line at the club.
Once inside, Crown and ginger ensued.¶¶
I tipped the bathroom attendent $20 because it was all the cash I had and nobody is going to work my soap pump for me and not be rewarded for it.##
We ran into Erica and she and I did a brief, happy girl dance together.†††
Later that evening, a very young, very drunk young man chose me for his own. I danced with him for a moment, then tried to get him to go on his way.
"You were really mean to him," said Brother later.
"I wasn't mean. I danced with him for a minute."
"Then you said, 'Make him go away.'"
"I believe what I said was, 'Step on him.'"
"Dude, you got hit on by a 22-year-old. You should be happy."
"Yeah, that was pretty cool."
[SUMMARY: That really was pretty cool.‡‡‡]
Z-Trip was interesting. He uses songs I know§§§ much of the time, which is an important component for my DJ well-being.
Y'know, the whole DJ-as-concert thing is a little weird. I can see a good DJ at a dance club being worth a following, but *watching* someone put other people's music together is like paying a premium price for a signed, numbered photograph of Starry Night.
Weird.
[SUMMARY: Old and feeble and you kids get off my lawn!]
Ish.
*************
Incense Rosé - Tauer Perfumes
Marin says: I totally fell in love with this. I think it is the hallmark of my undistinguished scent palate that I love big, spicy things.¶¶¶
With the spices, this is a tangy rose -- like a Tropicana -- rather than the prickly velvet of an American Beauty. The woods give it a darkish depth that makes me think of an opium den. There's something camphorous in the mid-hours of the perfume that speaks patchouli, but not too high and medicinal -- tempered by woods, for sure.
The incense isn't too churchy. In fact, I'm really impressed by the way the incense, wood and rose balance each other out. Nothing every shrieks or submits, they just fit together like a snake eating its own tail.###
The scent lasts for a long time and stays true to the core of itself through most of the journey. Oh, there are moments of higher camphor and moments of deeper woods and when it all boils off, it's more resiny that it was through the rest of the trip, but that tangy, spicy rose stays the course.
Andy Tauer says: Incense rosé is a mysterious fragrance built around smoking frankincense,$ with rose$ and citrus notes, and dark balsamic resins.
First, you might find a few rose petals, from a dark and spicy rose. The natural bergamot and Clementine essential oil, together with just a hint of cardamom play there with the natural rose absolute from Bulgaria.
The fragrance is lifted by orris notes, rendering it vibrant and clear. At the same time it is dark and rich, with castor and woody notes playing on the skin.
It is the Texan cedar wood, vetiver and the balsamic, dark and mysterious notes of myrrh and patchouli$ that are all dancing with the incense. This natural frankincense, CO2 extracted Boswellia serrata, is softened by balsamic labdanum and ambrein.
Brother says@: Woody.
[It's "Incense Rosé."]
Yes, it is.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): People actually call them by these names, though their parents probably still call them Adrian, Greg and Bruce.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): If the heathens are going to party in my house of worship, shall I not join them?
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Just about as long as it takes to say "Maundy Thursday."
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Except me. One side effect of drinking is it kills my appetite. Then I'm starving the next morning -- that's my version of a hangover.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Maybe that was just me.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Erica was actually lovely, just sporting unfortunate choices in hair and makeup.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Brother and Bruce may have had more to drink than I had by that point.
§§FOOTNOTE (just turn around and go home): LoDo on a Friday night is almost always a bad idea.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (that's me, sticking my tongue out): Not a fan, it turns out. Thought you should know.
##FOOTNOTE (pound that soap!): Heheheheheh...
†††FOOTNOTE (my cross to bear): You know.... squeal, air-kiss, boobboobboobboob and away.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (what are those things anyway?): Even if he was really drunk.
§§§FOOTNOTE (earworms): I haven't been able to get "Take On Me" out of my head since.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (that's me, bob-bob-bobbing my head): Heheheheheh...
###FOOTNOTE (tic tac toe in 3D): I've wanted to use that image for weeks. Thanks for giving me this opportunity.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): This was Friday night. I thought it an appropriate review for the occasion. The occasion being, of course, Friday night.
$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I would never have gotten Boswellia serrata, but by golly, I managed incense and rose.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Miss Me?
I had a very pleasant and long weekend.†
I haven't time to tell you all about it now,% but I will give a teaser for the rest of the week:
Drinking and dancing and breaking Lent‡ on Friday. You saw the Facebook entry, next -- read the blogpost.§
A stroll down the 16th Street Mall with my main Shanny on Saturday.¶
Sunday in the museum with the Nephews.
PLUS! What's in the trowel drawer? Knitted objects with pretty buttons! Drunken knitting: proof of life! Exotic playthings from distant lands!
[SUMMARY: I am a marketing genius.]
Stay tuned...
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I always forget that half of corporate America closes down for Good Friday, so I got Friday off and the office closed early on Thursday and I played hooky yesterday. Gotta tell ya -- it's more fun when you feel like you're getting away with something.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Off to the BLM to work. You are so jealous. You wish your job was as glamourous as mine.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Unless I decide to be Catholic, in which case the massive cocktail intake on Friday was simply a normal reaction to the end of Lent on Thursday.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Also? There are pictures. You won't see them.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'll show you pictures of that. There's a funny bit with a cross...
I haven't time to tell you all about it now,% but I will give a teaser for the rest of the week:
Drinking and dancing and breaking Lent‡ on Friday. You saw the Facebook entry, next -- read the blogpost.§
A stroll down the 16th Street Mall with my main Shanny on Saturday.¶
Sunday in the museum with the Nephews.
PLUS! What's in the trowel drawer? Knitted objects with pretty buttons! Drunken knitting: proof of life! Exotic playthings from distant lands!
[SUMMARY: I am a marketing genius.]
Stay tuned...
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I always forget that half of corporate America closes down for Good Friday, so I got Friday off and the office closed early on Thursday and I played hooky yesterday. Gotta tell ya -- it's more fun when you feel like you're getting away with something.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Off to the BLM to work. You are so jealous. You wish your job was as glamourous as mine.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Unless I decide to be Catholic, in which case the massive cocktail intake on Friday was simply a normal reaction to the end of Lent on Thursday.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Also? There are pictures. You won't see them.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'll show you pictures of that. There's a funny bit with a cross...
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Got Yatzer?
{Bram Boo via Yatzer}
There's a cubby for your yarn and a cubby for your scissors and a cubby for your stitch markers and a cubby for your pattern and a cubby for the latest Interweave Knits and there's a cubby for your circular needles and there's a cubby for your next project...
[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]
Plus?
I wouldn't have to come up with so many ways to say "and" if today wasn't such a cornucopia of wonderments.
Remember the Red River Hogs at the San Diego Zoo?
Now, for you blogspotting pleasure, the lickablest of lickable piglets:
{New Red River piglets at the Calgary Zoo via ZooBorns}
You really should click over to ZooBorns -- they have more pictures and video and these little guys look like pig-shaped chimpunks, which is totally worth a click of your time.
Remember the Red River Hogs at the San Diego Zoo?
Now, for you blogspotting pleasure, the lickablest of lickable piglets:
{New Red River piglets at the Calgary Zoo via ZooBorns}
You really should click over to ZooBorns -- they have more pictures and video and these little guys look like pig-shaped chimpunks, which is totally worth a click of your time.
Moreover?
I won!
I got the lovely, shiny purple stuff even though I admitted to Robin that I'd probably use it to knit a spider.
I guess that makes this Good Thursday.
Thanks, Robin!
I got the lovely, shiny purple stuff even though I admitted to Robin that I'd probably use it to knit a spider.
I guess that makes this Good Thursday.
Thanks, Robin!
Also?
I've found a new avocation: Twitter Gangster.†
Thanks to Kathryn in Nathan's comments,% I want to embody the pure essence of Twitter femininity.
The critics rave‡:
"...any more "callings" and you might have to up the meds."§
Nathan Branch
"Yeah. You need another hobby."¶
Brother
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm pretty sure it will hardly interfere with my knitting at all.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Not to be confused with Kathryn from my comments, who makes skull plates and works in the tea mines alongside her brave husband and whom I used to call Sister Katrina in high school when she still had a crush on Boy George.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And rant. And shake their heads.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Lent is almost over and this is what Grey Goose is for.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): He was talking about something else, but I'm pretty sure he'd say the same thing now. Is it really quoting out of context if you apply the quote correctly elsewhere?
Thanks to Kathryn in Nathan's comments,% I want to embody the pure essence of Twitter femininity.
The critics rave‡:
"...any more "callings" and you might have to up the meds."§
Nathan Branch
"Yeah. You need another hobby."¶
Brother
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm pretty sure it will hardly interfere with my knitting at all.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Not to be confused with Kathryn from my comments, who makes skull plates and works in the tea mines alongside her brave husband and whom I used to call Sister Katrina in high school when she still had a crush on Boy George.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And rant. And shake their heads.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Lent is almost over and this is what Grey Goose is for.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): He was talking about something else, but I'm pretty sure he'd say the same thing now. Is it really quoting out of context if you apply the quote correctly elsewhere?
*pbpbpbbbpbbbthbthbthbthththth*
I do believe that's been the headline for all my social techology† this morning.
It's the eternal cry of the defeated, the gomer left standing with her mouth open, her eyes blank and her brain ticking dangerously as she tries to fnd a wittier reply that *pbpbpbbbpbbbthbthbththththth*.‡
In the world of meta,% I believe I was practically bested.§ Oh, sure, I could've taken a picture of my cell phone taking a picture of Nathan's blog bomb... shit.
I shoulda thought of that before I conceded.
It's OK. I'm a graceful loser. AND I got Facebook.
[SUMMARY: Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,¶ know when to throw one last rock and run.]
So anyway, *pbpbpbpbbpbbbthbthbthbththththth!*#
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I bet there's a real, official name for it. I bet Lucretia knows it. Hell, she knows what a landman is, she probably knows just about everything.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I have to tell you, though, the best stupid, impotent comback ever was when my Uncle Tom nearly hit a pedestrian in a crosswalk while he (Uncle Tom) was in the process of ignoring a stop sign. The guy yelled, "Asshole!" Uncle Tom, not willing to give up the good fight, sputtered for a split second and retorted, "Well... you're a... double asshole!"
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Wiktionary:
Adjective
meta (comparative more meta, superlative most meta)
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): When we used to have pun wars in high school, the key rule was that the last person to give a VIABLE (emphasis important) pun under the given subject won. Otherwise a really good xylem and phloem bit would lose to a really lame bit whose best plant-based element was the word "grow." So, yeah, I could've beat the parallel mirrors analogy flat into the ground by taking digital photos ad infinitum, but I've decided to take the high road and be VIABLE. You're welcome.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Marin trivia: Bobbi Newberg and I sang this as a duet, with me accompanying on guitar, in choir. Eighth grade. You're welcome again.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): You'd think I'd be more gracious since Nathan generously allowed that tweeting (I can't tell you how much I hate admitting to "tweeting" -- couldn't I just twitter?) about trying to figure out how to spell *pbpbpbpbbbthbthbthththth* even as I was spelling it was quite meta.
It's the eternal cry of the defeated, the gomer left standing with her mouth open, her eyes blank and her brain ticking dangerously as she tries to fnd a wittier reply that *pbpbpbbbpbbbthbthbththththth*.‡
In the world of meta,% I believe I was practically bested.§ Oh, sure, I could've taken a picture of my cell phone taking a picture of Nathan's blog bomb... shit.
I shoulda thought of that before I conceded.
It's OK. I'm a graceful loser. AND I got Facebook.
[SUMMARY: Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,¶ know when to throw one last rock and run.]
So anyway, *pbpbpbpbbpbbbthbthbthbththththth!*#
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I bet there's a real, official name for it. I bet Lucretia knows it. Hell, she knows what a landman is, she probably knows just about everything.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I have to tell you, though, the best stupid, impotent comback ever was when my Uncle Tom nearly hit a pedestrian in a crosswalk while he (Uncle Tom) was in the process of ignoring a stop sign. The guy yelled, "Asshole!" Uncle Tom, not willing to give up the good fight, sputtered for a split second and retorted, "Well... you're a... double asshole!"
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Wiktionary:
Adjective
meta (comparative more meta, superlative most meta)
- (informal) Self-referential; at a higher level
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): When we used to have pun wars in high school, the key rule was that the last person to give a VIABLE (emphasis important) pun under the given subject won. Otherwise a really good xylem and phloem bit would lose to a really lame bit whose best plant-based element was the word "grow." So, yeah, I could've beat the parallel mirrors analogy flat into the ground by taking digital photos ad infinitum, but I've decided to take the high road and be VIABLE. You're welcome.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Marin trivia: Bobbi Newberg and I sang this as a duet, with me accompanying on guitar, in choir. Eighth grade. You're welcome again.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): You'd think I'd be more gracious since Nathan generously allowed that tweeting (I can't tell you how much I hate admitting to "tweeting" -- couldn't I just twitter?) about trying to figure out how to spell *pbpbpbpbbbthbthbthththth* even as I was spelling it was quite meta.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Avast, Ye Frosting Lubbers!
{Johnny Cupcakes via Highsnobette}
I can't believe cupcakes 'n' crossbones have made it under my radar for so long.
Dear Friends and Family,
Nathan Branch just tweeted, and I quote: "I out-meta'd Marin! I took a screenshot of a twitter and posted it on my blog. Top that, AntiM!"
I am a danger to myself and possibly others† when double-dog dared, so I give you the uber-meta Marin challenge winner:
I tweeted from my cell phone, then took a picture of the Twitter feed on my blog with said cell phone, sent it to my online album and posted it back here on the blog.
How much more meta can you get than that?‡
Nathan, you have been served. And I believe the word you were looking for in relation to my big brass balls? Classic. Or maybe epic... yeah, epic should cover it.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm not as smart as I look. This is *really* saying something.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): None. None more meta!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The trash-talking is beyond my wildest dreams. This *must* be what it feels like to have a penis.
I am a danger to myself and possibly others† when double-dog dared, so I give you the uber-meta Marin challenge winner:
I tweeted from my cell phone, then took a picture of the Twitter feed on my blog with said cell phone, sent it to my online album and posted it back here on the blog.
How much more meta can you get than that?‡
Nathan, you have been served. And I believe the word you were looking for in relation to my big brass balls? Classic. Or maybe epic... yeah, epic should cover it.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I'm not as smart as I look. This is *really* saying something.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): None. None more meta!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The trash-talking is beyond my wildest dreams. This *must* be what it feels like to have a penis.
Stupid Sparkly Update
I guess I should watch my back.†
The hairpulling is getting serious.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Side note: Black type on a dark grey background is a VERY BAD IDEA.
The hairpulling is getting serious.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Side note: Black type on a dark grey background is a VERY BAD IDEA.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Short Attention Span Theatre
The billboard is changing again.
That's less than two weeks.
I'm no billboard expert,† but that seems really short.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): But I play one on TiVi!
That's less than two weeks.
I'm no billboard expert,† but that seems really short.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): But I play one on TiVi!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Lent: Day 42
Father has cancelled our weekly dinner so we can watch basketball tonight. I have thoughts on this:
I have covered Lent, trowels and communism today. I have no further thoughts and don't anticipate any throughout the afternoon. Consternation and ennui abide.
- We have dinner at 5:00. We're done by 6:30 at the latest. Tip-off is at 7:20. Why couldn't we have dinner and watch the game afterward, separately or together?
- Dad Dinners represent the one day a week I get to ignore my Lenten embargo on dessert. I feel betrayed and hopeless and the gelato level in my blood is getting low.
- I will not find out if the chicken-footed garden implement resides in the Trowels, etc. drawer. I will also not find the answer to my auxiliary question as to which kind of trowels are in that drawer: masonry trowels or gardening trowels? Or both? And if it's masonry trowels, would their be a chicken-footed gardening implement anyway? And we won't find the answer to brother's question about whether Dad has a name for the chicken-footed garden implement.
- I didn't realise until just now that Lent goes for 40+ days because the bloody Catholics don't count Sundays.
I have covered Lent, trowels and communism today. I have no further thoughts and don't anticipate any throughout the afternoon. Consternation and ennui abide.
True Dat
From: Marin
To: Brother
Sent: Monday, April 6, 2009 9:45:48 AM
Subject: Immortal Revolutionary Songs
Mile-High Headlines for Monday, April 6
by Michael de Yoanna
NORAD Calls B.S. on North Korean Missile Launch
North Korean officials insist that they've launched a satellite into orbit around the Earth via a powerful, multi-stage rocket and that it is broadcasting "immortal revolutionary songs" praising communist leaders. Not so fast, says the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) in Colorado Springs, which reports that the rocket and its payload actually plopped into the Pacific Ocean (via the New York Daily News). The launch of the rocket, identified by U.S. officials as a Taepodong-2, is troubling because it also represents a step forward in the impoverished country's possible efforts to construct a nuclear missile that could strike the United States, writes The New York Times. Diplomats are debating how to address North Korea's action, according to The Washington Post. Such launches don't appear to be good for the planet's protective ozone layer either, according to a researcher with the University of Colorado (via The Los Angeles Times).
*************
One of the many problems with communism? It's very hard to take it seriously when communist countries keep finding new ways to make caricatures of themselves.
"In glorious honour of our brave communist leaders, we have launched a satellite playing 'Hail to Kim Jong-Il,' 'Wayfaring Eternal President' and 'Shine On, You Supreme People's Assembly.' so all may know of the joy and power of North Korea. Don't look at that nuclear warhead! That's not a nuclear warhead! That's an XM Radio of communism!"
Oh, the satire could be endless.
From: Brother
To: Marin
Sent: Monday, April 6, 2009 10:12:14 AM
Subject: Re: Immortal Revolutionary Songs
How funny is North Korea, though?
I mean, this is clearly the scariest country on Earth, being run by a man with a -21 golf handicap. But it's scary for being communist - the ridiculous impunity with which they can deploy their natural resources and human capital is alarming. It would actually be less scary if they were lying, because to devote the sort of resources that they would have needed for such a project to broadcast "immortal revolutionary songs" approaches real Jonestown-level idiocy. Wouldn't it have been a fuckload more effective to offer the immortal revolutionary songs as free downloads on iTunes?
I hate to quibble, but does this thing really represent "a step forward"? Hell, [Tallest Hairiest Nephew] could build a rocket that could get a few songs from Korea to the Pacific Ocean. That technology, um, isn't new. To anyone.
To: Brother
Sent: Monday, April 6, 2009 9:45:48 AM
Subject: Immortal Revolutionary Songs
Mile-High Headlines for Monday, April 6
by Michael de Yoanna
NORAD Calls B.S. on North Korean Missile Launch
North Korean officials insist that they've launched a satellite into orbit around the Earth via a powerful, multi-stage rocket and that it is broadcasting "immortal revolutionary songs" praising communist leaders. Not so fast, says the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) in Colorado Springs, which reports that the rocket and its payload actually plopped into the Pacific Ocean (via the New York Daily News). The launch of the rocket, identified by U.S. officials as a Taepodong-2, is troubling because it also represents a step forward in the impoverished country's possible efforts to construct a nuclear missile that could strike the United States, writes The New York Times. Diplomats are debating how to address North Korea's action, according to The Washington Post. Such launches don't appear to be good for the planet's protective ozone layer either, according to a researcher with the University of Colorado (via The Los Angeles Times).
*************
One of the many problems with communism? It's very hard to take it seriously when communist countries keep finding new ways to make caricatures of themselves.
"In glorious honour of our brave communist leaders, we have launched a satellite playing 'Hail to Kim Jong-Il,' 'Wayfaring Eternal President' and 'Shine On, You Supreme People's Assembly.' so all may know of the joy and power of North Korea. Don't look at that nuclear warhead! That's not a nuclear warhead! That's an XM Radio of communism!"
Oh, the satire could be endless.
From: Brother
To: Marin
Sent: Monday, April 6, 2009 10:12:14 AM
Subject: Re: Immortal Revolutionary Songs
How funny is North Korea, though?
I mean, this is clearly the scariest country on Earth, being run by a man with a -21 golf handicap. But it's scary for being communist - the ridiculous impunity with which they can deploy their natural resources and human capital is alarming. It would actually be less scary if they were lying, because to devote the sort of resources that they would have needed for such a project to broadcast "immortal revolutionary songs" approaches real Jonestown-level idiocy. Wouldn't it have been a fuckload more effective to offer the immortal revolutionary songs as free downloads on iTunes?
I hate to quibble, but does this thing really represent "a step forward"? Hell, [Tallest Hairiest Nephew] could build a rocket that could get a few songs from Korea to the Pacific Ocean. That technology, um, isn't new. To anyone.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Confession: Good for the Soul, Hard on the Reputation
TTHFCIF
I have wrestled with my conscience all week.†
Shall I confess or take this shame to my grave,‡ jeopardising all my good and saintly works?§
*sigh*
You know the answer with the asking of the question.
[SUMMARY: Spiritual talk apparently requires stuffy speech patterns.]
Last Friday, when I was snowed in,% I...
I...
I...
Iwatchedthestupidsparklyvampires.
*whew*
I do feel better. Does this require penance?¶
[SUMMARY: Theology slippery, sainthood in danger...]
The movie was better than the book,# if that makes anyone feel any better.††
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I can usually take my conscience nine falls out of ten.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): *gaspROSEBUD!gasp*
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Like... cake. And... knitting. And... um... Lent. Oh! And not burning the Post Office of the Damned to the ground.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Technically, I was not snowed in anymore by about 10:00 Friday morning, but I see no reason for that to influence this story.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Like maybe watching it again?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is known in the business as "damning with faint praise."
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I feel better. Thank you.
I have wrestled with my conscience all week.†
Shall I confess or take this shame to my grave,‡ jeopardising all my good and saintly works?§
*sigh*
You know the answer with the asking of the question.
[SUMMARY: Spiritual talk apparently requires stuffy speech patterns.]
Last Friday, when I was snowed in,% I...
I...
I...
Iwatchedthestupidsparklyvampires.
*whew*
I do feel better. Does this require penance?¶
[SUMMARY: Theology slippery, sainthood in danger...]
The movie was better than the book,# if that makes anyone feel any better.††
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I can usually take my conscience nine falls out of ten.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): *gaspROSEBUD!gasp*
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Like... cake. And... knitting. And... um... Lent. Oh! And not burning the Post Office of the Damned to the ground.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Technically, I was not snowed in anymore by about 10:00 Friday morning, but I see no reason for that to influence this story.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Like maybe watching it again?
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is known in the business as "damning with faint praise."
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I feel better. Thank you.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Update!
In regards to the Trowels, etc. drawer†: Brother says "etc." would be one of those miniature rake things that look like chicken feet.‡
He's bet me lunch on it.
Next Tuesday, I'll unveil the results.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I know you were on the edge of your seat.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): We agreed nobody knows what those things are called -- we communicated the idea mostly through the use of hand gestures. As a side bet, we're waiting to see if Dad has a name for them.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I really know how to create an atmosphere of anticipation, don't I?
He's bet me lunch on it.
Next Tuesday, I'll unveil the results.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I know you were on the edge of your seat.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): We agreed nobody knows what those things are called -- we communicated the idea mostly through the use of hand gestures. As a side bet, we're waiting to see if Dad has a name for them.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I really know how to create an atmosphere of anticipation, don't I?
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