My apologies for the light blogging this week, but I find that being on holiday is not conducive to rage or curiosity, the two main power sources of this blog (until honshui gets off his ass and writes something). So, unless you are dying to hear about how I am immersed in my daughter's world (and a three-year-old's world is a wondrous place), you may just have to wait a day or two for the prerequisite nonsense.
In the meantime, go by the Rev's place and sample the greatest song ever sung.
For that matter, check out the blogroll. All of those folks write rings around me on a regular basis. Why they slum here is a shame they alone have to bear.
And don't forget, UFC 84 this Saturday. Anyone want to get together at a local gin joint or speakeasy and watch large men punch each other? Yeah, I know, I paint a word picture like fucking Monet. Anyway, don't tell Butch, 'cause he will try to get us to head to Delaware to watch pigs rutting, and will still try to get us to pay for the beer and "entertainment". If I had a nickel...
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
More Targeted Media
Why appeal to the masses when you can have an audience of one. Or two if you're lucky.
So I was catching up on some old Doctor Who last night (Tom Baker) and the episode was The Masque of Mandragora. The episode start is cut off because the Bell PVR software sucks, so I tune in to see Doctor and Sarah in an odd, wood-paneled room in the TARDIS. And I thought to myself, "Shit, I did not know that Magnavox made time machines."
So I was catching up on some old Doctor Who last night (Tom Baker) and the episode was The Masque of Mandragora. The episode start is cut off because the Bell PVR software sucks, so I tune in to see Doctor and Sarah in an odd, wood-paneled room in the TARDIS. And I thought to myself, "Shit, I did not know that Magnavox made time machines."
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Lobster Bash
I suppose that this post might make sense only to Honshui, so if that is the case, just consider this targeted media.
Back in the fashionable 80s, 'shui and I played tennis at the same club, just west 'o here. And once, or maybe twice a year, it was time for the lobster bash. It featured fresh caught lobster flown in from P.E.I., hundreds of paper cups of melted butter, chilled boxes of white wine, Labatt's Crystal, and crème de menthe for the more continental palates.
This was a big bash.
But we would always wonder at the wild turn the bash would take once dinner had been served and the sun-burnt faces were wiped clean of lobster guts and butter. It was a near embarrassing display these adults put on for us, as they attempted, for a night, to cast off pasty husbands or ice-block wives and get their shit ON. And nothing says wild party like crème de menthe. Am I wrong?
But how to describe this to your friends? The come-ons, the vomiting, the wanton displays of repressed sexuality suddenly bursting out of a too-tight rayon shirt festooned with a tropical pattern (I am looking right at you Bill); it all seemed surreal.
Luckily, I think Honshui and I have found our experiential soul mates. In a Pentecostal church no less.
From the post: The Pentecostal Church and the Holy Ghost Want You To Wear Pig Panties:
The adults would collectively lose their fucking minds. They’d hop around in circles, screaming. They’d hysterically cry and hold their arms up towards the heavens. They’d gyrate around on the floor and speak in some unintelligible language: Bugga bugga boo! Oh, I love you Jesus! Yada gabba doodle boo boo wak!
It was fucking awesome!
Life doesn’t get more exciting for a 10 year old kid than attending a service in a Pentecostal Church.
What a great article. And a damn funny site.
The punchline to all of this, as you in your 40s know, is that all the fun seemed to stop as soon as we hit high school. AIDS killed free love, the crazed parents split up and got bitter, the barfing pro moved on to greener pastures, and the big parties weren't so big anymore. Well, except for that time I ran naked from Springbank Park to Berkshire Village, but that hardly counts.
Back in the fashionable 80s, 'shui and I played tennis at the same club, just west 'o here. And once, or maybe twice a year, it was time for the lobster bash. It featured fresh caught lobster flown in from P.E.I., hundreds of paper cups of melted butter, chilled boxes of white wine, Labatt's Crystal, and crème de menthe for the more continental palates.
This was a big bash.
But we would always wonder at the wild turn the bash would take once dinner had been served and the sun-burnt faces were wiped clean of lobster guts and butter. It was a near embarrassing display these adults put on for us, as they attempted, for a night, to cast off pasty husbands or ice-block wives and get their shit ON. And nothing says wild party like crème de menthe. Am I wrong?
But how to describe this to your friends? The come-ons, the vomiting, the wanton displays of repressed sexuality suddenly bursting out of a too-tight rayon shirt festooned with a tropical pattern (I am looking right at you Bill); it all seemed surreal.
Luckily, I think Honshui and I have found our experiential soul mates. In a Pentecostal church no less.
From the post: The Pentecostal Church and the Holy Ghost Want You To Wear Pig Panties:
The adults would collectively lose their fucking minds. They’d hop around in circles, screaming. They’d hysterically cry and hold their arms up towards the heavens. They’d gyrate around on the floor and speak in some unintelligible language: Bugga bugga boo! Oh, I love you Jesus! Yada gabba doodle boo boo wak!
It was fucking awesome!
Life doesn’t get more exciting for a 10 year old kid than attending a service in a Pentecostal Church.
What a great article. And a damn funny site.
The punchline to all of this, as you in your 40s know, is that all the fun seemed to stop as soon as we hit high school. AIDS killed free love, the crazed parents split up and got bitter, the barfing pro moved on to greener pastures, and the big parties weren't so big anymore. Well, except for that time I ran naked from Springbank Park to Berkshire Village, but that hardly counts.
Grobianus Asks, Grobianus Receives
Recent commenter Grobianus asked for some more pictures. Honshui mentioned Jenny McCarthy and some sort of bladder problem.
Is it possible to combine the wishes of these two great people?
Thank you Google images.
And for the comic fans out there we have outfits/cosplay that doesn't suck.
Shockingly, nobody seems to be able to pull off a good Etta Candy outfit, or a decent Red Tomato.
Is it possible to combine the wishes of these two great people?
Thank you Google images.
And for the comic fans out there we have outfits/cosplay that doesn't suck.
Shockingly, nobody seems to be able to pull off a good Etta Candy outfit, or a decent Red Tomato.
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