Navigating the Stars

Now that I've gotten a little sleep and the free vodka smell has pretty much evaporated from my skin, I think I'm ready to blog again. I thought however, that instead of sharing what I learned today, I'd share a few things I learned over the 5 days I missed during the film festival.
It's hard to know where to begin.




David Wain is damn funny, but it's hard to tell at first. He's so deadpan when you talk to him, that until you get to know him a bit, you sort of furrow your brows and wonder if you're just too normal to get him. I wish I could have spent more time with him.







Ernie Hudson, whom everyone called, "That Ghostbusters Guy" even though he's done so much more, is the nicest, most gracious, kind and gentle, loving man. I met him last year and he remembered me. Or at least he was polite enough to act like he did.




The only thing Joe Pantoliano, known around here as Joey Pants, has in common with Guido the Killer Pimp or Ralphie on the Sopranos is that he's Italian. Very Italian. I was lucky enough to attend a small and exclusive dinner party with him, where I learned that he is also very friendly, passionate, positive-thinking, and generous. And he likes the way I smell.


I learned a LOT about my favorite Saturday Night Live girl Cheri Oteri, but I'll keep most of it to myself as a lot of it is personal. We spent most of the festival together and I feel like we're old friends. I will say that she is prettier in person than in pictures, more serious in real life than on screen, and she's very tiny. Her first name is Cheryl and yes, her last name is really Oteri, but before Don Pardo started rhyming her name, she thought of herself as Cheri O-tiery. I love and adore her and I'm totally going to miss her.







Emily Van Camp is as cute and sweet as the roles she does. Maybe even more. She looks exactly the same in person as she does in her beautiful photos, and I recognized her right away. She was easy to work with, and very gracious. It was nice having her here.







When I first met DB Sweeney, all I knew is that he looked familiar. It wasn't until we walked into the theatre and some woman told him how much she loved him in Cutting Edge that I realized who this clown was. I couldn't believe she recognized him, and I was especially in awe when she handed her camera to Cheri to get a picture with her favorite star! I love this guy, even though he embarrased me in the center of my hometown. Word of advice if you ever find yourself walking through a park with him where teenage punk rockers are throwing gummy-bears at each other; run and hide behind the nearest tree. Or just join in and start screaming along in complete horror. He was a silly little boy, but I'll blame it on the wine.

To my complete disappointment, I didn't realize that the guy who was freaking me out this weekend was William Mapother, who played creepy guy Ethan on LOST. I kept avoiding the huge, scary-looking dude who kept staring at me. Seriously, I thought he was going to kidnap me. I realize now that I was just biased against him because I'd seen him drag Claire into the jungle on TV, but I wasn't consciencely aware of it when I saw him. It was weird though how I never saw him smile, and I don't remember him speaking. I wonder if he was just fucking with me. Was he getting some sick thrill out of intimidating little blonde chicks? Did he turn to his friends and laugh after I ran around the corner? Damn. I'll never know.


That crazy, fun, stylish, beautiful girl I met at a friends house was a super-model. I knew she was a model and her name was Irina, but I don't keep up with fashion or models, especially super-models, so I didn't realize who she was. I thought she was refreshingly different from the crowd, and found it interesting how she always managed to be in front of a camera. And apparently Ms. Pantaeva is into filmmaking too.


These next 2 peeps I didn't actually meet, but I talked to them on the phone and learned that they are both huge, whiney pains-in-the-asses.
Is that slander? No, it's fact. But I'll spare the details to save on lawyer fees just in case.

Ken Marino

Samantha Mathis

And last, but certainly not least, I met THE Daedalus Howell. Writer, actor, director, musician, editor, and all around funny guy, this was my favorite star siting of all.

Wait a sec.
I already know him.
Isn't he fab?

Exhaustion Fumes

punch-drunk / Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[puhnch-druhngk] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–adjective
1.
(esp. of a boxer) having cerebral concussion caused by repeated blows to the head and consequently exhibiting unsteadiness of gait, hand tremors, slow muscular movement, hesitant speech, and dulled mentality.
2.
Informal. befuddled; dazed.

Yes. All of the above.

The film festival lube has yet to leach out of my blood, but I have many many stories and lessons when I can get my head back on straight (er).

Fermented Madness

Film Festival weekend.

Total mayhem.

The Grandest Event in the History of the Colored Race

Today is the official first day of our fantastic local film festival where I o-so happily volunteer, and since there's a party before and after my somewhat prestigious VIP Team meeting tonight, I decided I'd better get this learning shit out of the way early.

I wish I had something funny and interesting to say, but all I can think about is that I don't have any cute shoes to wear tonight, and that I don't have any money. I did learn something today though.

Before Abe Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, he signed the Emancipation Act, which freed about 3,000 slaves in Washington DC nine months early. Every year on April 16th, an official public holiday gives Washingtonians a day off, soooo...
taxes aren't due until April 17th this year.

After spending way more than my lunch hour today reading all about slavery and emancipation, I'm consumed with the concept of freedom and being free. While I realize that slavery and freedom are serious issues and shouldn't be made fun of, I'm already an admitted idiot so I've made a list of things that I need my own Emancipation Act for.

1- Ignorance. My own and all that surrounds me.
2- Negative thoughts. Especially my own.
3- Love of food.
4- Either my dependency on money or the desire to have way too much of it.
5- Insecurity.

No Thing

I didn't learn anything today.

But
I saw

2 woodpeckers fighting

A homeless looking woman with beautiful eyes

A guitar called a Warlock

and

3 girls walking down the highway in pajamas

So it wasn't a totally wasted day.

I Undastan Dat

I don't really know how many times, out of pure curiousity, I've picked up a bible and started reading it, then put it down five minutes later all pissed off. It seems to me that something as supposedly important as "THE word" should be a little easier to understand. But after our Maui visitor read this to us from the Hawaiian Pidgin bible last night, which is not intended as a joke by the way, I finally understand the Lords Prayer.

God, you our Fadda.
You stay inside da sky.
We like all da peopo know fo shua how you stay,
An dat you good an spesho inside,
An we like dem give you plenny respeck.
We like you come king ova hea now.
We like everybody make jalike you like,
Ova hea inside da world,
Jalike da angel guys up inside da sky make jalike you like.
Give us da food we need fo every day.
Let us go, an hemo our shame
Fo all da kine bad stuff we do to you,
Jalike us guys let da odda guys go awready,
An we no stay huhu wit dem
Fo all da kine bad stuff dey do to us.
No let us get chance fo do bad kine stuff,
But take us outa dea, so da Bad Guy no can hurt us.
Cuz you our king,
You get da real power,
An you stay awesome foeva.
Dass it!

And I love this -

"Everytime, dis how I pray: "God, you da God fo our Boss Jesus Christ. You our Fadda, an you stay awesome! I like you help da Efesus peopo fo know inside dea hearts wat fo do. An show dem plenny bout Christ, so dey goin know him mo betta.'" (Fo da Efesus Peopo 1:17)

Now, I could read a bible like this. Somehow it all makes sense, even though I still don't believe there's a big man in da sky.

Ok, one more and then I'll send you out on your own.

Den had one big storm ova dea, an da waves was bussing ova da boat, so da boat almos wen huli. But Jesus still yet stay sleeping in da back on one pillow. His guys wen go wake him up, an tell him, “Eh, Teacha! You no care we goin mahke, o wat?”

Jesus get up, an scold da wind an da waves. He say, “Quiet! No move aroun!” Den da wind wen pau an da waves wen come nice. An he tell his guys, “How come you guys scared? You guys no trus me, o wat?” (Mark Tell Bout Jesus 4:37-40)

Wat Da Bible Say Bout Important Stuffs <---- click here ja idiot

A Message From Jesus

Jesus doesn't like eggs.

|

There's also no humping in heaven.


Thank you Mark Garrison. Until today, I thought JC was totally down with the whole pagan sex celebration thing.

Domestic D

This morning I was awakened by the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. I couldn't believe my nose. I've been ripped out of beautiful sleep several times by silent sledgehammers, but rarely by something that doesn't justify violence. Then I remembered we had my favorite kind house guest; a couch crasher that knows how to cook. I love going out to brunch on the weekends but I love my pajamas more, and it was wonderful to just climb out of bed and have a really good breakfast right here at home.
And it gets even better.
Tomorrow is Easter and the only cooking I have to do is my special green bean creation. Dearest Daryl, another fabulous DH, is making us his amazing Hawaiian specialty, Kalua Pig. It's a little hard to keep the neighbors away when cooking a whole pig in a huge pit in the backyard, so he's going for the haole method; pork-roast in a slow cooker.
Since he's doing the cooking, I did the buying, and today I had to brave the unknown frontier of the grocery store all by myself. It was quite the learning experience.

Pork butt is actually a pork shoulder, without the bone.

Red wine vinegar is in the salad dressing aisle.

Water chestnuts are not canned vegetables. They are "ethnic" food.

My son's former friend who checked me out, (in the grocery store scanner cash register sense) has a something something something super engine something.

The school nurse in town has retired, but she's thinking about going back to work.

Good Excuse Friday

Why today is called "Good" Friday? I don't know. All I can find is that maybe it's been lengthened from "God" Friday, but I find that just too stupid to accept. I found some gibberish about how maybe the word "good" is used to show that Jesus dying was a good thing because it liberated so many people from sin.
I personally find all Friday's to be good. (and full of sin)

Here are some names other countries use instead of "Good."

In Israel, today is Big Friday.
In Germany, it's Sad Friday or Mourning Friday.
It's Great Friday in the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, Hungary, Serbia, Greece, and Bulgaria.
Latin America, Spain, France, Italy and Portugal say it's Holy Friday.
In Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland and Iceland, today is Long Friday.

I'm calling this particular Friday before Easter "Good Excuse Friday." Let's have this be a day of finding, using, and believing all the excuses we can for our bad habits. Let's use this day as a way of finding better excuses for a future full of sin. Exuses to get out of doing things we don't want to do. A good excuse to take a day off work. A good excuse to party.

My main excuse for everything about to happen tonight is...

My Colonel is playing another show.

AM Killed the Radio Star

I'm exhausted today, but I ran across this little snippet today.

FM radio was invented by Edwin Howard Armstrong, who like Kurt Cobain 13 years ago today, took his own life. Mr. Armstrong jumped out of his 13 story apartment window in 1954, because he thought his invention was a failure.

RCA, his employer at the time, worried that FM would destroy AM radio, and got in bed with the FCC to keep it from being used.
Jealous fuckers.

I wish I could get more into this, but I can't keep my eyes open. Take a look at this cute newspaper photo.

And happy 3-year aniversary for your FM radio show Mr. JMB!

Up, Down, Left, Right

I've been in the car for 5 hours today, which is about 4 hours longer than I can stand. I learned something though.

There are 14 turns between my sister's house and mine, if you include turning into my driveway. 10 rights and 4 lefts.

Isn't that exciting?

Ok ok ok. There is something else. When I got home I read a silly email from my mom, and at the bottom it said that 17 million people are having sex right now. But according to my calculations based on sex stats done by a condom company, I think the number is much lower.

Approximately 1 million people are having sex right this minute, and about 45 thousand of them are orgasming right NOW.

Here's how I figure it- The world averages say that people have sex about 106 times a year. That's roughly every 3 days. At the time of my study, which was about 10 minutes ago, the world population was around 6.7 billion. So if people are having sex about every third day, then I figure it's about a third of these peoples turn today. Since sex can strike at any hour, I divided these 2 billion people by 24 hours, leaving 93 million. Divide that by 60 minutes, you get about 1.5 million. Now let's say about a third of these people are too young or too old or whatever, so we'll remove half a mill, which leaves us 1 million people having sex right now. And since the world average length of time for humping is about 22 minutes, I'd say that about 45,000 of them are finishing up right about now. Less of course those who don't/can't/won't cum, and plus those who are alone.

According to the Blissymbolics Dictionary,
this is the blissymbol for Orgasm.

Gotta go.

Living on Dyer Island

I had another fun day painting, playing cards, and making mud pies with the nieces, nephew and my 4 year old today. I actually missed them when they went to bed, which is totally weird since bedtime is usually the best part of the day for me. So later when my sister started watching some lame-ass tattoo show on TV, I started reading the first thing I could find; a National Geographic for kids. For the most part, the magazine was surprisingly lame, but I did learn something kinda interesting from it.

There are penguins in South Africa (penguins in South Africa?) who used to make their homes out of hardened guano (bird shit) before people started taking it and selling it for fertilizer. When they started dying off due to lack of shelter, conservationists started bringing in fiberglass igloos for them to live in, just like the kind dogs use for napping. And it worked. Within a week of bringing them in, the birds, formerly known as Jackass penguins, were calling them home.

These little guys are now called African penguins, and the people selling their shit are called Jackass humans.

Smarter Than a Zozzfozzel

The only thing good about Fallon, Nevada is my nieces and nephew. If it weren't for them, I'd be at home right now instead of picking desert sand out of my eyes in the middle of nowhere. But I'm having so much fun with them that I can't complain. There's something about being far from home, wandering the vastness of Super Walmart in the middle of a small, dusty town that causes me to lose my reasoning completely and want to join the trashy crowd. I totally let loose today and allowed the kids to run screaming down the aisles. I don't know if it's because the store was so big or the people were used to this kind of behavior, but not one single person gave me that evil look I usually give when I see this kind of terrorism.
We bought dyed flowers sprinkled with glitter for only 5 bucks, and I let them get candy from the row at check out line. It was embarrassing that they didn't scream for it first. Utterly horrifying how politely they picked which colors they wanted. Totally unacceptable that their eyes lit up right before they said thank you. What kind of behavior is that for Walmart? Super Walmart no less. Sheesh.
After we got home and the sugar-high wore off, my very first niece, whom through clenched teeth my sister refers to as "Donna Junior," read me a book by our mutually favorite author, Dr. Seuss. "The Cat's Quizzer- Are YOU smarter than the cat in the hat?" There were 100 or so silly questions which she read to me, and I got a few of the answers right. We had a great time, and I actually learned something.

It's possible that worms might actually dream.

I answered an emphatic NO to the question of "Do worms dream?" The answer on page 61 was, "I know two psychiatrists- Dr. Willis and Dr. Mazzanti. They tell me that maybe worms do dream." Who's going to argue with Dr. Seuss?

Then it was bedtime, and when I was tucking her in and checking for bedbugs, my little prince brought me my long lost tiara. And it fit like Cinderella's slipper.

Drowning in Buffonery

It's probably going to be a late night, so in honor of April Fools day, I leave you with....

The First Church of the Last Laugh

I missed their Saint Stupid's Day Parade today, but I'm heading out to something nearly as dumb; a birthday party you have to pay to get in to. Not even a single free light beer or crappy hotdog. Technically, it's a suggested 10 dollar "donation" with "fabulous bar prices." E-gads.
The only reason I'm going is to see my Colonel play in the band, so I'm not paying since I "donated" the guitar player.
And I'm bringing my flask.

Order of the Rabbit

I heard today that the original title of Hitler's Mein Kampf was, "4 & 1/2 Year Struggle Against Lies, Stupidity and Cowardice." I still don't know for sure if this is true, but I wouldn't doubt it. I'm not a Hitler fan or foe to be quite honest, and I'm curious to read the book. I mean, the guy was fucked up but it is interesting and somewhat admirable how much influence he had.
Anyway, if you're still reading after that statement, I learned something today from George Duncan's Lesser-Known Facts of World War II.

Every year on Hitler's mommy's birthday, he would give an award called "The Mothers Cross" to all German women with a lot of kids.

Four fruits of the womb was enough to receive a Cross of Iron.
Six sucklings got her a Silver Cross.
Eight episiotomies earned her a Gold Cross.
7 & 1/2 years of being pregnant was worthy of a Cross of Gold and Diamonds. Plus, Hitler himself would act as honorary godfather.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Capezio Shamezio

There are few things cuter than a four year old in tap shoes.

Especially with his bug pajamas tucked into my sparkly Michael Jackson socks.

Yep, I'm a lucky mom. My son wants to be a tap dancer.
He starts class next Tuesday.

XXX

Mother of Alpha Beta!
I've been writing all damn day and I don't feel like writing another perfect word. I'm going outside to enjoy some beautiful night air.

Here's what I learned today:



That's right. Nothing.

Beware the Spanked Monkey and the Stinky Pinky

I had no idea!

I know this is mean, but I nearly died today.
There are kitty scratches all over my face and back.
Which of you is responsible?

My First Tag

Well, I got tagged today, which means I get to play a little blog game. Sort of. And it's a good thing too, because I didn't learn JACK shit today. Well, maybe I did learn that Grind House is FINALLY going to be released on April 6th, and the website is pretty fucking cool. I could spend hours there if I had hours. So on to the game.

Instructions:

Look at the list of books below.
*Bold the ones you’ve read
*Italicize the ones you want to read
*leave blank the ones that you aren’t interested in. If you are reading this, tag your it!

1.The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown) (I only read half of it)
2.Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3.To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10.A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11.Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12.Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13.Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) (I only read half)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible (I read some)
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolsoy) (about half)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez) (my favorite!)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen) (maybe half)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield) (almost half)
100.Ulysses (James Joyce) (I think but I'm not sure)

I'm terrible about finishing books. Now I'm going to go watch Kill Bill 2.

What? Why? Wow!- W Magazine

Earlier tonight I couldn't figure out what I learned today, so I wasted an hour watching episodes of Robot Chicken on YouTube. I just discovered it last night and I totally love it. Then my first born giant came and watched some with me and we had some good laughs. After a while he noticed a ricockulously ginormous magazine sitting here and we started looking through it. I think we laughed more looking at the models than we did watching Jasper the Douche Bag Ghost. By the time we were done, I'd learned two things.

W magazine is excellent bonding material for a mother and her 18 year old son. We must have wasted another hour making fun of it.

Then he told me something I probably already knew, but hearing it from him made it real.

It doesn't matter how cool your clothes are because guys just want you to take them off.

I also love that he said he knew I was his mom because I think Kill Bill is a fucking great movie.

I love that kid. Pain in the ass and all.

Still Works After 100 Years

After several bad cases of poison oak as a kid, I learned very well how to identify and avoid the "leaves of three." When I got older though, I started getting it from my then husbands clothes. He worked in landscape and would forget to tell me that he'd been clearing it all day, and I'd innocently pick up a nice rash just doing laundry. Around that time, an old man told me that if I ever come in contact with poison oak again, to wash with a bar of Fels-Naptha as soon as possible. I had no idea what he was talking about and just assumed it was an old fashion wives tales. Fells what? Crazy coot.
But one day in the laundry section at the market, I noticed some bar soap on the shelf, and a name that I recognized. Years later, my boys seemed to have poison oak more often than they didn't, and one day I remembered the old mans advice and bought a bar of the strong smelling laundry soap. I can't say for sure, but I think it actually worked.
Today on our first letterbox treasure hunt, we discovered that most of the hiding places were surrounded with poison oak. When we got home, I dug up an old bar of Fels-Naptha from the laundry room, and we had a human laundromat in the bathtub. My skin is drier than shit right now, but it might be worth it.
Anyway, I decided to look up this soap today and find out more about it. I apologize right now, because what I learned today is pretty boring.

You can make 5 gallons of homemade laundry-soap with one bar of Fels-Naptha, which costs less than 2 bucks.

I have no idea why I find this mildly interesting, but I do. I guess I never thought about making my own laundry soap. If anything, I think I'll put the recipe and a bar of this stuff in our earthquake survival kit. You never know. I could be the richest bitch on the block if disaster strikes.

Chocolate Covered Crap

I was too lazy and tired to learn anything today, but I did find out that today is National Chocolate Covered Raisins Day.

How disgusting. What a waste of perfectly good chocolate.
When I was a kid, my grandparents grew grapes that were dried into raisins for Sun-Maid, and we always ended up with bags and bags of chocolate covered ones. I'm sure my grandma thought she was spoiling us when she sent them, but I always thought it was a cruel joke. Why couldn't she send chocolate covered almonds or something?

Jack Be Quick

My special musician, Colonel Angus, has been practicing for an upcoming gig, and I've had to listen to the Rolling Stones Jumpin' Jack Flash song over and over tonight. I used to like the song before that stupid Whoopi Goldberg movie ruined it. Now whenever I hear it, all I can think about is her crazy hair. So knowing that Mick Jagger wasn't singing about a crappy movie, I've always wondered what he actually was singing about. Now I know.

Jack Flash is a slang term for heroine. Jumping Jack Flash is heating it over a candle, sort of like the nursery rhyme character, nimble little Jack.

"I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain,
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right. I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash,
It's a Gas! Gas! Gas!

I was raised by a toothless, bearded hag,
I was schooled with a strap right across my back,
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash,
It's a Gas! Gas! Gas!

I was drowned, I was washed up and left for dead.
I fell down to my feet and I saw they bled.
I frowned at the crumbs of a crust of bread.
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I was crowned with a spike right thru my head.
But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right, I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash,
It's a Gas! Gas! Gas!"

Not this

Yikes.

I can't promise that I'm totally right about this because I haven't actually asked Mr. Jagger himself, but it sounds pretty damn accurate to me.

The Magic of a Bar Napkin

Ahhhh. I got my hair done today, just the way I like it. I completely love sitting there in that cute little French studio, yakking with Barbara while she does her magic for two glorious hours. If it weren't so expensive, I'd probably go once a week. It's extremely therapuetic for me to spend time with a woman I admire, to be away from work and kids, and to get that spoiled brat fussing-over I need and love.
Today while sitting under the dryer, she gave me some reading material she knew I'd find interesting.

"Here. It's a men's magazine, but it's very interesting. Especially the ads."

And how! It was more interesting than those fucking boring glam mags that say the same shit in different colors every month. I don't care what the best lipstick color is for women with yellow undertones. I don't care what movie star B wore to fabulous party number 8. And I already know how to give a mind blowing blow-job, thank you very much. "One Cosmo a year" is my motto. And Barbara was right. The ads were interesting. A little too many men with purses maybe, but beautiful men no less.
Anyway, it was interesting to read a magazine written for the metro male. I learned why pointy shoes are better than snub nose shoes (they make your feet look bigger, thereby making your legs look longer, making other things appear larger), and the best way to take care of those shoes. I now know that you could rotate a light blue, a white, and a blue and white striped shirt for two weeks without anyone noticing. And I learned some interesting exercises that can make you run, jump and hit harder than ever. But what I really found the most interesting when I came home and looked up Esquire on the net was something about a writing project they did.

Esquire magazine mailed a napkin to 250 writers to write a story or something on. They got about 100 back, and you can read most of them, still in napkin form, right on their website.

The Esquire Magazine Napkin Fiction Project

I haven't read them all so I don't have a favorite yet, but I'm going to go find one right now.

Speedy-Cut

Today I learned how to make my own letterbox stamp.

All the how-to sites I looked at said to take an eraser and carve it with an Exacto knife. So I went down to the art supply shop to get the right kind of eraser, but they didn't have what I was looking for. Instead, they had something called a Speedy-Cut carving block, which is like a giant 6 x 11 inch eraser.
I had to think of something I wanted my very own, personalized stamp to be, so I went looking through my Modern Drunkard magazine and found it. Then, using a soft pencil, I put a piece of paper over it and traced it a few different times. After I got a good one, I cut it out and laid it pencil side down on the giant eraser stuff, and rubbed the back with the eraser from my pencil. It transfered like magic. After hunting for nearly 20 minutes for our Exacto knife set, I found it and started the scary process of carving it out. I can't explain with words how I did it, but I did it. It's not perfect, but here it is.



Pretty damn cool if I say so myself. It's a little fucked up, but it was my first try. It was totally fun to do, so I think I'll make a few more since the Speedy-Cut stuff is big enough to make a dozen or so.

Letterboxing

Call me a dork, geek, loser, lame-o, whatever you want. But today I learned something so cute that I'm actually excited about it. When Rebecca stumbled across it at the office and read it to me, I couldn't wait to come home and find out more. Unfortunately though, I don't have a lot of time to write about it tonight.

Letterboxing is sort of a treasure hunt, where people hide weatherproof boxes someplace, and leave clues, mainly on internet sites, as to where they can be found. Inside the box is a log book and a stamp. Finders carry their own log book and their own personal, hand carved stamp. The finder will take the stamp from the letterbox and stamp their log book with the date. Then they put their stamp into the logbook inside the letterbox, again with the date. Sometimes their will be a smaller box in the letterbox called a hitchhiker. If you find one, you get to take it with you and put it in the next letterbox you find. Some peoople have what's called a personal letterbox, which they carry around with them, that can be opened by anyone who knows the password. There are also parasites, which are placed unknowingly into someones personal letterbox, which of course have to be discreetly placed into another box.

There's a lot more, but since I've got a lot of shit to do right now, here's a link if you want more information. Ya big geek. Letterboxing.info

It's really pointless, but it sounds fun. I've ALWAYS loved treasure hunts!
I was looking around at some sites where you can find some clues and stuff, and I found several hidden here in town. I think I'll carve a stamp tomorrow and then start hunting. Maybe I'll even make my own letterbox and hide it somewhere special. Ohh, and maybe I'll leave clues here in my postings.
Maybe I'll just make my own version of the letterbox game. What a dork eh?

Loco Coconut Facts

The other day we saw coconuts at the store for a buck each, so we got a couple just for fun. When we got home, we drilled a few holes in those eye things and drank the water inside. Then we cracked it open with a hammer and tried to eat it. Suddenly, the fantastical survivalist in me who often makes birthday wishes to be stranded on an island, thought it might be a good idea to do some training and figure out how to open one without the wonder of tools and electricity. (stop looking at those freckles) But, as usual around here, I got sidetracked and forgot to look it up.
My fantasy island life was in full effect today, and I was reminded that I still don't know what to do if I were dying of thirst and a drill-bit didn't get washed up on shore with me. But now I know that I will survive if there are coconuts on my island, because I know how to open one without electricity.

The first thing I would do, assuming I was alone, is look for a mute native boy in his early twenties. Then later, when I got thirsty, I'd get a stick and sharpen the end by rubbing it on a stone. Next, I'd find the soft eye, which is usually like the black sheep of the three coconut eyes. It's darker, and not symmetrical like the other two uptight hard ass eyes. Then I'd just start gouging it out until, voila! Fresh, sterile, tasty water. Then I'd bash it with a big rock to get the "meat" inside.

So now that the serious stuff is taken care of, let's look at some dumb coconut facts. (or you can just stare at those freckles)


The word "coco" was the Portuguese word for goblin, which is what the early Portuguese explorers thought the three eyes on the end of the nut looked like.

Charcoal filters used in gas masks and cigarettes are made from burnt coconut shells.

In Zanzibar, diesel fuel is made from coconut oil.

Wood from old palm trees is called "porcupine wood" and is used to make furniture.

In the Northern India old days, coconuts were fertility symbols, and when a woman wanted to get pregnant, she would go to a priest to receive her "special coconut."

People in New Guinea think that when the first man died on their island, the first coconut palm tree sprouted from his head.

Women in Bali are not allowed to touch a coconut tree, because men think she will drain the tree of its fertility.

In World War II, coconut water became the emergency room glucose supply when there was no other sterile glucose available.

Lauric acid found in coconut oil can be effective in treating the measles, the flu and Herpes.

A wine called "tuba" can be made from palm sap.

I think that's enough for now. Does anybody have a boat?

Berry and the Bung Hole

Like the rest of this town this morning, I was feeling a little wrecked when I woke up. For some reason, people around here really party it up on St. Patrick's Day. We went to three bars last night, and they were all packed like I've never seen, and I've seen a lot. Then somehow we ended up in JMB's garage, where we stayed drinking whisky with him and his fun wife until 2am or something. All I really remember is what I learned.

The hole in the middle of this wine barrel is called a Bung Hole.



This thing over here is a Bung Hole Plug. ------>








And this thing over here is a Bung Hole Reamer. ------>

And this is a woman with her finger in the bung hole.

I'd like to thank Mr. Berry and the lovely Miss S for this classic lesson last night. I'll forever think of you when I hear the words, "Bung Hole."

Cryptic and Clover

Look closely at this picture and see if you can see what it says.
You might want to click on it first to make it larger.
Did anybody get any of these today?

Here's a tip:
Relax your eyes and sort of cross them.

If you DON'T eventually see the word, click here.
If you do see it, and you want to see more, go here.

What I learned today is the Irish word for shamrock. It's "seamrog." It means "little clover," but can refer to any number of plants having three leaves. And a clover is a clover, and a shamrock is a shamrock. They are not exactly the same thing.
The reason shamrocks are associated with St. Patrick's Day is that St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland, once used one to explain the trinity to the people. One leaf represented the Father, one the Son, and the other the Holy Spirit.

Oh! Today is the anniversary of the first time Lora and I had whisky!
I don't know how many years ago that was....
So now I'm off, in search of more Irish WhiskEy.

Comamos Pintxos

I learned a new word today.

Pintxos

Pintxos (peen-chose) is the word people from the Basque Country in Spain use when referring to tapas, particularly those with toothpicks (pinxos) holding them together. I learned it from a new restaurant that opened today in Philadelphia. I'm not there now, but I keep up. I love Philly.

Then I learned that Spain is made up of 17 autonomous communities, which I think basically means that each one is like a state but has it's own government. Fascinating. I need to know more about this, but I think I'll learn about it tomorrow. Now it's time to play.

Human Bodyflight

Why hasn't anybody told me about indoor skydiving?!?!

I had to find out about it in the lamest way. Someone in Perris, California was reading this here blogg-o of mine-o, and I thought today I'd make some kind of silly comparisons to Paris, France for their reading pleasure. But, alas, with the only thing to brag about being "miles of frontage on interstate 215" and the right to claim "the home of DHL," the town sounds about as interesting as a sugar beet. Then, hidden on the attractions page between the Southern California Fair and the Lake Perris Regional Indian Museum, was something that made my heart fly.
Perris Valley Skydiving. Ok, so what right? We have skydiving around here. Big deal. But since it was the only thing interesting on the page, I read the details.

"The new attraction to the skypark is the Vertical wind tunnel where anyone can experience the sensation of freefall without the fear. Click on the wind tunnel on their web site where they have live feed of people actually flying."

So of course I went to see the live feed, but I couldn't find it. Whatever. But now I really, really, really want to try it! Except that for 40 bucks less, maybe I'll just do the real thing.
In the real Paris.

Stardust is Dust!

I missed it!

Growing Up

When you have a baby, you sometimes try to imagine what they'll look like when they're 16. You care barely picture it because it's so far, far away. . .

Then suddenly, you're there.

Today is my sons birthday, and I'd like to say we had a really great party, but we didn't. We had a really great fight. So great in fact, that my other son decided to participate. Me against 2 bull-headed giants. Great fun.
So now I'm kinda blah and I don't feel much like writing tonight, but I'll blog what I learned today anyway.

I know what my baby looks like as a 16 year old.

I know that my 18 year old is learning what it's like to be an adult, and he doesn't like it very much.

I know that I could have been a better mom.

I'm sad. I'm tired. I'm glad tomorrow's Wednesday.

Happy Birthday P-imp! I love you.

Nature's Porn

Nature can be so sexy. A few years ago I saw a video of snakes mating, and it was the best porn I'd ever seen. It was so sensual and slithery and good. Then last night on TV I saw some big-ass giant spiders having sex, and not only was it interesting, it was kinda hot. I hate creepy, giant, hairy spiders more than just about anything, but when they described what was going on with these two super-sized boinking tarantulas, I was turned on physically as well as intellectually.

When male tarantulas get horny, the spin themselves a nice silky "sperm web" and rub themselves all over it. When he's finished, he'll suck up the spooge with his two little feelers and go looking for some real love. When he finds a willing she-tarantula, he carefully plays a few games of footsie with her until she rears back into threat pose. Since one bite from her can kill, he's equipped with "mating hooks" on his two front legs, which hold her dangerous fangs out of the way. Quickly, he'll run up and ram his hooks into her mouth. Then he is safe to explore her abdomen, searching for her "epigastric furrow." When he finds it, he slips one of his cum soaked feelers inside.
This can last anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours, but when he's done, he's done, and he runs away as fast as he can. About half of them don't make it out alive.

Ahhh. Precious, romantic, dangerous nature. I love it.
If only I could write porn.