Who farted?

It's sad that it's shocking when a journalist actually has the stones to get it right in print. Even if it's across the pond, I'm glad someone managed to call a dog a dog. Now folks in England who've only heard that B.O. is the second coming will see what kind of crap he's really been dishing out on the down-low.

Speaking of the whole mortgage meltdown thing, Christopher Dodd and Barney Frank mewling like weaning calves and then subsequent revelations of how their fingerprints are all over the blueprints for the meltdown is reminding me of something I always heard growing up: the smeller's the feller.

National Night Out Tuesday was a lovely success, and the company owner was very pleased with the event I put together and said so in our meeting Wednesday morning. Incidentally, his birthday was that day, also.


Wanted to go to State Fair, and I moseyed on over about 6pm. I thought I might stay an hour, mebbe. Then I realized I'd never really just walked around Fair Park alone, and I ended up staying a couple hours and concentrating on taking photos of the spectacle. One of the cool things about Fair Park is it's one of the largest collections of Art Deco buildings in one site in the world. Most of these buildings were erected for the Texas Centennial in 1936.



Someone told me Tuesday that the chicken fried bacon was good for the first few bites but then it got old and started feeling heavy and yucky. I did not have that experience. I stood, chomping this ultimate of pork products as I admired the grand champeen 254# hog Wilbur on display in the livestock bragging pens. Wilbur's broad backside was on full display to the passersby. I think he was already tired of the fair. I suspect if he knew he was destined for the dinner plates at some high-toned charity event, he'd be putting on the some-pig act. Poor Wilbur. Yummy bacon. Om nom nom!



Here's a photo I took as the gilt western edge of the bald eagle-topped 179' Tower Building caught the final rays of the day. A gentle breeze blew the flag, and a half-moon crept up to greet the coming night.

I returned home to find in my email that I had won 500,000.00 GBP, a lovely bit of padding for me wallet, and a nice change of pace from the usual viagravation I find there. *snerk* All in all, it was a nice birthday. :)
Happy Thursday, you sexy people!

Redneck Tank Top

You may have seen this before. Heck, I may have even posted this before.

It's my birthday.
I'll do what I want!

This is all true.

I found out last minute that M was in town this weekend. I haven't seen her since my last trip to Seattle about 5 years ago. M used to live in Dallas and we were friends about 18 years ago. She looks a little like Penelope Cruz with brown, sparkly eyes I always envied. She was working as a chemist for one of the local hospitals before she moved up to the Seattle area (1992-ish), and when she got up there, she didn't want to continue to work in that field. On a whim she answered an ad for the Bureau of Land Mangement and got a job hiking out in the wilds for days at a time and (no lie) counting Spotted Owls.

She sent me an email Saturday morning with what looked like an urgent message "please call me" and her number. I called her up to find she was in Texas, her mother having died last week. She and her husband were about to drive back to the pacific nw, and she was hoping to see me, if only briefly, before they departed. I suggested we could meet at First Chinese BBQ for lunch in Richardson. We met, and with M was her husband and another man she'd dated for about 9 years who now lives in this area.

M started talking about the little house she where she used to live in Lakewood, and did I remember it. I said "you had a cat named Miss Nubbins, and you had crabs."

*dead silence as oxygen is sucked from room*
The two men looked startled and she looked incredulous, her eyes widenening as she turned to face me.

"Remember? In that little glass aquarium? Do you still keep crabs?"
Apparently, the guys thought I meant some other kind of crabs.
Open mouth, insert foot.

A guy in England got shot for wearing an Obama t-shirt.

You have to read 8 paragraphs before you learn he was shot with a "gas-powered ball-bearing pistol."

Good thing guns are illegal there. Otherwise, he might've gotten shot if he tried to protect himself with a legal handgun of his own.

I have failed you. Truly I have.



I forgot to remind you that we are celebrating my birth month, and now you only have two days to shop and get your prezzies to me without looking like a schmuck. I promise not to judge you too harshly if your prezzie gets here on the 9th or the 10th, instead. Mean it.



I know what you're thinking: you're thinking I want to do something special for phlegmmy, to make a difference on this planet in honor of the day of birth she shares with Sigourney Weaver, Jessie Jackson, Chevy Chase, Matt G and C-Jay Ramone, something ecologically sensitive that improves the planet for everyone, something like Squirrel Underpants. Nuh-unh! No way. THIS day is mine, dagnabbit. Yes, it IS in fact, all about me. We require gifties.



Let me tell you what I want, what I rilly rilly want:



Remote control hopping, yodelling lederhosen. LURVE these. They are made all the more delicious by the fact that the remote is a knockwurst. More like knockbest, baby! HYUK! I love them so much. If you don't buy them for me, I'm going to have to buy them for myself. Don't make me do it. Step up to the plate.

I figure if every other one of you sexy people who read my blog daily ponies up a pair of these puppies for me, then I'll have a baker's dozen. That's practically a fleet, in lederhosenese.

In my lonely room at night, I'll line up little Radio City-style revues of my 13 yodelling Lederhosen(s? nen? innerinen? Crap! I've lost all me German!) to entertain me. I'll deftly man the remotes and sometimes I'll be the girl in the gingham dress, and sometimes I'll be the guy behind the green curtain. It'll be heaven.

Wait-- did I mention it's me birfday this week?
*nodding vigorously*

A Florida man dove into the water to save his 14 pound rat terrier Jake from a shark. The 5 foot shark surfaced and chomped nearly the whole dog in one bite. The owner dove in and balled up his fist and pummeled the shark on the back and the shark let go of the dog.

Now, look at this pup - see that gremlin- like look? Knowing the terrier spirit like I do, Jake probably picked the fight.

Great story. I love that among the news bits of dogs doing heroic things to save their people, there are people who lay it all on the line to save their pets.

What's under your desk at work?

Someone was throwing away this huge flokati (lambskin blankie thingie) because her Italian greyhounds didn't like it. My puppehs lurves it!

SO, anyhoo. The boy's cuteness quotient plummets precipitously when he thinks of creative ways to wake mummy in the mornings. There's the favorite standby, the wet willie, which, actually, is worlds more pleasant than a knifelike blade of puptongue striking shiv-like at the innermost reaches of one's nostril, but it only happens once and then one is airborne. Rude awakening doesn't begin to cover it.

KEWL!

Your result for The Classic Dames Test...

Barbara Stanwyck

You're a tough dame, a bit of a spitfire, and you can even be a little dangerous, but you do it with such flair that almost all is forgiven (and even when it's not, you're still the most interesting woman in the room). You can be witty and charming, all right, but you have a tough streak that keeps you focused and sometimes deadly. You've had quite a climb to get where you are, but you're a hard worker and you mostly deserve all you get...and then some. You might end up destroying everything around you, but you must admit...you've got style. Your leading men include Henry Fonda, Fred MacMurray, and when you forget yourself, Gary Cooper.

Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the
Take The Classic Dames Test at HelloQuizzy

I especially like that bit about destroying everything around me but doing it with style. Oh, and that waiting for heart-of-gold bad guy Gary Cooper to get out of the slammer so we can ride off into the sunset. Yeah, she looked hawt in that movie! What a dame.

See Sarah.
See Sarah kick ass.
Kick ass, Sarah! Kick ass!

I can't wait until she's president.
At this point, it's sort of like anticipating dessert with a gorgeous, rich cup of coffee or tea, isn't it?

Yuri Bezmenov
Uploaded by onmyway02

You know, I realize I post a lot of videos here. Many of them are just idle fluff and stuff that amuses me. This, however, is something on an entirely different order.

If you ever watch one video to completion on my blog, please, I beg you, let it be this one. Dare to listen to what the interviewee is saying. Have the courage to see how what he said 23 years ago applies in some very real ways today.

Thanks breda.

Strange connections.
And yucky.


I listed an article on ebay by an artist who was popular in the 50s and 60s. Her naive style and humble craft was very much of that moment. She'd been a student of Miro, and Miro's influence can be seen in the lines of her work.

She was Italian and moved to Mexico in the 50s in her heyday, when Neiman Marcus and the like started mass-marketing her work. She married a man who on rare occasions collaborated with her on her finished pieces.

Well, this piece I listed is signed by both husband and wife, and somewhere I read that was a real rarity and more collectible, for some reason. Okay. Whatevs. I started it at a sort of modest price (well under $100) and noticed that although there are no bids, there are an awful lot of watchers.
Hmm
I searched ebay for other items by this artist, but they would sell in the $150 range. Okay.

Tonight I googled her husband for the first time, and found a) he carved the bird for the film The Maltese Falcon, b) he molested his daughters (ew!) and c) has been speculated to have been involved in the Black Dahlia murder, in addition to other crimes.

egad.

Funny thing was that I was reading along on the site I chased a link to, and thought -COOL! This thing was made in part by the guy who carved the Maltese Falcon! Mebbe I oughta keep it!

Then I read the other stuff and thought mebbe I oughta burn it. Ew.

I'll let the highest bidder decide what to do with it.

'nother demotivator from Rabbit.
*snort*

I've tried posting this 3 times today. Fourth time's a charm?
I'm not a paranoid person, but one could get there from here...