Discworld conjurer Terry Pratchett is honored with a knight hood. That's a very nice note on which to end the year.
h/t to DBA Dude
I lurves me some Jane Horrocks.
Glamour is a breeze.
Wit is impossible to fake.
Promise you won't laugh?
This is all purely hypothetical, of course.
Let's pretend a woman is 5'2" and is the super-cute sort of gal.
And let's just say one of her favorite shoemakers made a pair of shoes with robot-fabric lining the shoe and a robot on the sole. And let's just say that pair of shoes was a wee bit nutty looking with stripes on the platform heel and cherries on the front.
This really super-cute woman (the one we're all just making up in our minds) could get away with these shoes, right? I mean, like, as in going-out-in-public-with-a-straight-face getting-away-with-these-shoes, right?
But then there's the metallic basket-weave ones which also have the robot lining and sole. Hmmm...
What a dilemma. I will have--- er, that is to say, she will have to choose. *vexation*
Okay. Cooler heads prevail. Was still a little clouded with sleep and not thinking clearly earlier. Our cute fantasy lady drives her imaginary car a lot, and I'm thinking those felt stripes would get awfully dirty on her lead-foot side. The bronze/gold, however, would surely be more dirt-resistant.
Don't worry about me yet. Well, not any more than you already do.
I mean, her-- don't worry about her, yet. ;)
When I've been to the range in recent weeks, I've been picking up a little brass before and after shooting my own. I'm calling that redneck yoga. Anyhoo, I collected enough that I filled a little more than half of this one gallon glass jar. See how attractively I wrapped it? This brass was a gift for Majestic Ship Lady's husband, and I think he was thrilled with his gift. Also, I didn't waste time and money on something he'd find to be useless. How clever - all I had to do was spend $$$ on my pistol club membership and there was one bit of shopping already ticked off my list. Will be doing my redneck yoga year-round now so I avoid the last minute rush.
Let's be honest: these two have it ruff.
midday addendum- What We Have Learned Today:
Either fishnet stockings are not puppy-friendly, or puppies are not fishnet-friendly. They ruined my favorite gray fishnets. Meh.
Gonna keep the puppehs anyhoo.
The delightful Paul Whitehouse as Rowley Birkin Q.C. on The Fast Show (broadcast on HBO as Brilliant! in the USA)
For the Christmas tree that has everything, you now can get this lovely dog poop ornament.
5"x5" lifelike dog poo ornament with sparkle sprinkles.
Between you and me, I think the dog that produced the prototype needs to be switched to the dry stuff.
Funny the things you run across when you're too busy to take time to look. This is Buddha Hand fruit I saw in the produce section of Kroger at Mockingbird and Greenville on Christmas Eve. It's apparently a citrus fruit. I didn't buy it because you may note the sign in the upper right hand corner of the photo which shows this curiosity to check in at $13.99/pound. I think that was prolly about a 2 pound specimen I was holding. Interesting.
Anyhoo - Y'all have a lovely Christmas. :)
She ain't heavy. She's my sister.
Kraftwerk is opening for Radiohead's Mexican and South American tour dates in March.
h/t to Bad Tempered Zombie
They've figured out that momma is perhaps a smidge less observant of their antics when she's on the phone, so that's a perfect time to act up and get away with it. On the phone with Lin recently, I said "no, Chuy!" rather less emphatically than Lin seemed to think was warranted under the circumstances. She seems to think a cattle prod is in order. Says I'm puppy whipped.
Sis: That ensemble looks so Wiccan.
Me: Really? They dress this nicely?
Great balls o' comfort. I swear I didn't make that up. Watch and learn.
Goodbye $10 Thrift Store Pimp Chair
It's been nice...
Hmm. Normally they're so well behaved!
Now, the dumpster will be emptied tomorrow at...?
Please return your trays to the upright position.
This defies description. I mean, he couldn't really have been trying to sing well, could he? I can't stop laughing. It starts off uncomfortably bad, so bad it actually made my scalp tingle with sympathetic shame. Then the wheels fall off about a minute and a half in. I laughed and laughed.
Now we know who Stephen Hawking's computer voice was modeled on.
The first set included Max Stalling, Trent Willmon and Paul Overstreet. All these guys were fantastic. It was also very nice to see a live show with just acoustic guitars and no percussion or entrail-jarring bass. They played their set tag-team style, each musician taking his turn, with the others playing along on guitar occasionally. I have to say Trent Willmon is a remarkable guitarist. All were clever and entertaining. Max came by the table to hug Holly when I was away in the powder room.
The second set included Ray Wylie Hubbard, a genuine Texas character (who I first saw about 22 years ago at the Old Town Music Hall which was located at 2111 Commerce Street), Roger Creager who sang a fabulous song called "I got the guns" and Willie Braun of Reckless Kelly. It was a fabulous show.
All the singers varied between jubilant silliness and love-gone-wrong type stuff. Lots of laughs. Paul Overstreet-- who's written some huge hits-- delighted the audience with golden chestnuts from his musical canon such as "I think she only likes me for my Willie" (of course this was a reference to his Willie Nelson impersonation which was, indeed, impressive, and chock-full of manifold-entendre) and "It takes a lot of liquor to like her, but when I'm liquored up I like her just fine." Yeah, you can tell it was quality stuff, right?
Anyhoo - from the same twisted psyche that wrought those gilded nuggets sprang this lovely song, which Paul Overstreet sang at the conclusion of the first set.
It was a very nice evening. Thanks for coming with, Hols.
In Iraqi culture, throwing shoes at someone is a sign of contempt. Iraqis whacked a statue of Saddam with their shoes after U.S. Marines toppled it to the ground following the 2003 invasion.
The reporter should have gone on to say in which culture(s) throwing shoes at a person was a ingratiating gesture of affection and goodwill. *much eyerolling here*
A gentleman in the office said "hello. I enjoy your blog." I didn't see that coming. I gather my blog is just an occasional read, but it was flattering to hear someone say he was a lurker but enjoyed what I wrote. I'm very complimented and humbled that folks get enjoyment my humble scribblings, truly I am.
Anyway, have decided I need to shoot my .38 a lot more. It's become the gun my aim is worst with. I'm going to work on that, though. My ego won't let me just blow it off for a different gun so I'm just going to step up the practice. The good thing is that my aim is great with the Ruger Mk ii. I hate the sights on that one, but I'm adapting to them. It's like this big evil fishook sticking out on the end just waiting to snag something. Anyway, I didn't take targets or spray paint, so I found an unmolested steel plate and then practiced shooting a magazine first at 7 o'clock and then the next magazine at 4, then 9, etc. Found I was shooting pretty good groupings after the first couple magazines.
Must shoot more. It's good clean fun, even if I do get a little dirty.
About 7:30ish, some voice comes on a loudspeaker somewhere. Not close enough for the voice to be anything but garbled, but not loud enough to ignore, either.
Sounds like a sports announcer.
It's not 8:00 AM on a Sunday, yet.
Great. Is there a marathon on my street? I hear crowd sounds. *much grumbling*
It carries on, the puppies settle back down and I sort of doze a bit more, all to the three step tonal range of an animated announcer. Ok. Whatever.
Then a few minutes before 8:00, I hear the voice of what is obviously a child singing our national anthem in that new, obnoxious way one hears so often. Call me curmudgeonly, but the Star Spangled Banner is something on which I'm very much a purist. I think noodlesome Whitney Houston/Celine Dion/Mariah Carey antics are simply uncalled-for when it comes to down to it. In fact, I think properly sung, it's the text and the grandiosity of its musical structure which is so deeply stirring. However good a singer may be, I think the SSB is not the moment for someone to showboat and take license with the meter of the melody, festooning its form with great syrupy swags of unwritten notes which the whole song has to stop to accommodate. You know the reason so many people add all those extra notes? It's because it's SUCH a hard song to sing with its high notes and sustained tones. Sing it as written and well and then I'll be impressed, baby, or don't sing it all.
So, as the song was ending was when the jet fighter flew over. Nice. So much for more sleep. *harumph*
Bettie Page died yesterday.
Okay - this is the kind of geekery that makes me so love the internet.
Did you know that over at coolnumbers.com you can look up the serial number of a dollar bill to find its universal coolness index? Srsly.
For example, from the UCI Hall of Fame comes this gem with a whopping coolness quotient of 99.77%:
The Hall of Fame number you chose was 44444444.
Congratulations! You have found an extremely cool number! It has a Universal Coolness Index of 99.77%
44444444 contains an 8-of-a-kind together. Only 0.000010% of 8-digit numbers have this combination.
44444444 has 1 unique digit. In 0.000010% of 8-digit numbers, there is 1 unique digits.
44444444 is a palindrome! Only 0.010% of 8-digit numbers are palindromes.
All of the digits in 44444444 are powers of 2. Only 0.070% of 8-digit numbers have this property.
All of the digits in 44444444 are even! Only 0.39% of 8-digit numbers have this property.
Labels: geeking out
Another local added: "It's a sick gimmick. But you can bet that where Saddam is now is a hell of a lot hotter than any spicy chicken.”
I'll give it a 7, but I can't dance to it.
Planning my annual Christmas party for residents, recent high utilities and taxes have resulted in a drastically reduced budget for food/drinks/door prizes. This pains me. The people who have been such great and loyal tenants year 'round deserve a little token of esteem at the very least.
I called up people at several local arts, concert and sporting venues and got more than 3 dozen comped tickets for major events donated from these generous facilities. Thrilled that I'd be able to possibly have enough for everyone in attendance to win at least one pair of tickets, I crowed to the owner of the company, thinking he'd be pleased. He said "that's all very well, but please don't put your own name in the drawing."
Thank you, Captain Obvious!
Excuse me-- last I checked, I'm being compensated for my time and efforts. My concern was that the residents should feel we'd made some small effort to treat them to some enjoyable event to which they could take a pal or a significant other. Why, oh why would I want to horn in on the very gifts I sought to give them?
More disturbing, how can someone know me for this many years and be so obtuse as to think I would licentiously elbow in on goodies I actively sought for someone else? Then again, perhaps the only intention was to insult me.
Well done on that score.
There are also checks by an artist called Kozik. LOVE the pig with the knife. Yes, these checks can be yours!
This got me to thinking.
The big question: Should I go ahead and send it in as written with my check, or should I get a cashier's check just to be sure? Like I said, I don't want my arty pretensions to shoot me in the foot, here.
I looked around a bit, saw a lot of mid to late 19th century graves in the front section of the graveyard, but didn't notice any spaceman graves. Perhaps if you visit the place at night, one of them glows. Still, as with any place of historic significance, it's the state-generated plaque one really came to see, right? Remember the Alamo? They have a plaque. But no basement.
Whaddayaknow if YouTube doesn't have something on this place. In comments, Holly said
"Aurora, Texas" recorded by Allen Damron is a most excellent song telling the
story of the alien ship that crashed into Judge Proctor's windmill.
Couldn't find Mr. Damron's song on YouTube, but I did find this bit:
But saw this incredible rock on a building clad in petrified wood. Looks like sandstone, looks like two lovers to me. Klimt would approve.
Here's a little green bottle type wasp I snapped in October. It was brilliantly colored, but impossibly tiny. You can see it next to a Varsity disposable fountain pen nib to get an idea of the scale. Click either picture to embiggenate. Nifty stuff. (The reason I was able to photograph this little guy is I came outside and found him awash in the doggies' water bowl, so I fished him out and he hung around on this concrete wall long enough for me to run get my camera while he dried.
One of these days I'll get a better handle on the intricacies of my camera. Was going to liken my camera skill set to the Wright Brothers suddenly manning the helm of a 747, but I think to do so would be to insult Mssrs. Orville and Wilbur. Oh well, one of these days...
Today will be a gorgeous day. I hope get a picture of a Texas graveyard with an 19th century alien grave. Srsly. Pictures tomorrow. :) Watch this space.
OMG! Just remembered. Looking at these shoes, I was thinking I wore them to England once. I sprained my ankle in them while I was there. (*I recommend these for everything but cobblestones after too long at the pub) I was also wearing these when approached by a Cockney foot fetishist and I really can't tell that story in print because you've just got to hear the accent to really appreciate it.
There also would be a diner run by a couple named Sam and Ella which would specialize in undercooked pork, questionable eggs and dubious potaters.
There would be a landscaping company run by shade-tree law enforcement officers and it would be called Lawn Order.
That is all.
Anyhoo, apparently on November 22, Oliver Stone's JFK was screened there. I dunno - struck me as a little odd, as in of questionable taste.
1. Started your own blog.
2. Slept under the stars.
3. Played in a band.
4. Visited Hawaii.
5. Watched a meteor shower.
6. Given more than you can afford to charity.
7. Been to Disneyland.
8. Climbed a mountain.
9. Held a praying mantis.
10. Sang a solo.
11. Bungee jumped. Never will.
12. Visited Paris. Uh, does having a layover at Orly count? If so, hated it.
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch. Working on guitar, now.
15. Adopted a child. rescued one very noble and virile chiweenie
16. Had food poisoning.
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
18. Grown your own vegetables.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France.
20. Slept on an overnight train.
21. Had a pillow fight.
22. Hitch hiked.
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.
24. Built a snow fort.
25. Held a lamb.
26. Gone skinny dipping.
27. Run a Marathon.
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice.
29. Seen a total eclipse.
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset.
31. Hit a home run.
32. Been on a cruise.
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person.
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors. Have been to Skye, but who knows where all the others were from?
35. Seen an Amish community. I'm guessing Mennonites count
36. Taught yourself a new language. Have made a study of geek for the past 14ish years.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied. Have had a lot of money, and it doesn't satisfy in the way one expects. True satisfaction can not possibly come from something like money. It doesn't suck, but it doesn't salve the yearnings of the soul.
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person.
39. Gone rock (wall) climbing.
40. Seen Michelangelo's David.
41. Sung karaoke.
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt.
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant.
44. Visited Africa.
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight.
46. Been transported in an ambulance.
47. Had your portrait painted drawn.
8. Gone deep sea fishing.
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person.
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris.
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling.
52. Kissed in the rain.
53. Played in the mud.
54. Gone to a drive-in theater.
55. Been in a movie. Was an extra once
56. Visited the Great Wall of China. (my best friend has!)
57. Started a business.
58. Taken a martial arts class.
59. Visited Russia.
60. Served at a soup kitchen.
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies.
62. Gone whale watching.
63. Got flowers for no reason.
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma.
65. Gone sky diving.
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp.
67. Bounced a check.
68. Flown in a helicopter.
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial.
71. Eaten Caviar.
72. Pieced a quilt.
73. Stood in Times Square.
74. Toured the Everglades.
75. Been fired from a job. Uh, several
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London.
77. Broken a bone.
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle.
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person.
80. Published a book.
81. Visited the Vatican.
82. Bought a brand new car.
83. Walked in Jerusalem.
84. Had your picture in the newspaper.
85. Read the entire Bible.
86. Visited the White House.
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating.
88. Had chickenpox.
89. Saved someone’s life.
90. Sat on a jury.
91. Met someone famous.
92. Joined a book club.
93. Lost a loved one.
94. Had a baby.
95. Seen the Alamo in person.
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake.
97. Been involved in a law suit.
98. Owned a cell phone.
99. Been stung by a bee.
100. Read an entire book in one day. so long as little kid books count
For some time I'd been craving a strand of irregular, mismatched white pearls for myself, so I strung these up a few days ago. I wore them Monday for the first time, and they are a nice comfortable length and look dressy but not too fussy. I'm pretty pleased with the progression of my pearl knotting. I'm still working with silk, but one of these days I'll try some synthetic thread and see how it makes up. I have my particular tastes and dislikes, but I also think it's good to be a little open-minded about materials - it'd be a shame to find out many years down the road that one preferred the material they'd turned their nose up at out of some personal and irrational prejudice.
Him: I'm going to have to have a talk with our parts supplier. He keeps giving me the wrong part.
Me: Tell him if he keeps that up I'm going to come over there and spank him.
Him, grinning: Yes, ma'am!
That's what I like to hear.
Labels: Whatever Lola Wants
From one such happy accident came this gorgeous moment frozen in amber. Al Bowlly would have a rough time making it in the professional music circuit of today with its idiotically Hollywood standards. Monia Liter's brilliant technique on the old 88's might fare slightly better but only just. But they were here at the moment meant for them, and they did what they were born to do, and in so many ways, they are the very embodiment of one of the most brilliant epochs in the evolution of the music of our species.
Find your moment and be in it.
Dare to sing, even if it's not perfect, or correct or anyone else's ideal-- someone out there wants to hear you sing.
Albert Allick 'Al' Bowlly (January 7, 1899 – April 17, 1941) was a popular British Jazz singer in the United Kingdom during the 1930s, making more than 1,000 recordings between 1927 and 1941. Bowlly was born in Mozambique to Greek and Lebanese parents who met en route to Australia and moved to South Africa. He was brought up in Johannesburg, South Africa. He was killed by the explosion of a parachute mine outside his apartment in Jermyn Street, London during the Blitz.
Location: Elsewhere, Texas, USA
I'm not whining;
Learn more here
A Keyboard and a .45
Adventures of Mauser Girl
Attila the Mom
Baby Troll Blog
Bad Tempered Zombie
Bayou Renaissance Man
Better and Better
Brown Valley Kingdom
Chris Ex Machina
Every Blade of Grass
Exile in Portales
Fat Hairy Bastard
Fat in Indiana
Flying Flo's Forum
I Aim To Misbehave
If the Creek Don't Rise
In Jennifer's Head
John Shirley's Wandering Thoughts
Katie Puckrick Smells
Lawyer With A Gun
Mausers and Muffins
Mulligan Do Over
Myron's Mind Meanderings
Papa Delta Bravo
Ready, Fire, Aim, Apologize
Searching for Oz
Silver The Evil Chao
Something to Say
View From the Porch
Like waving a red flag at a bull.
Bonus Monday pups
Sunday, Puppy Sunday: bedtime, already!
Sunday, Puppy Sunday: rubbish bin edition
On St. Patrick's Day:
Sunday, Puppy Sunday: best puppies ever
TheCornered Cat * A MUST read
Gallery of the Absurd - wickedly delicious
Independent Woman - Elbow
Robin Guthrie: Weblog
Arkansas Travel Site