Friday, December 31, 2004

Oh, the Iran-y.

I usually don't talk politics because I'm unqualified. But so are a lot of the people in powerful government positions, it seems. So why not, I just had to say:

Isn't it neato that as far as peace and rebuilding goes, we're only pledging $35 million to help out with an earth-splitting tsunami disaster?* I know we're broke and all, but I just don't know why we don't promise to give 1.2 billion-zillion dollars because we're just gonna charge to our giant credit card anyway. Sure, we've been running up a few, hefty bills for those "weekend world improvement projects" lately so...uhm...


But hey, give us a break, we can't even afford armor for those tanks spreading the peace butter in the middle east. (But we could always use some burn cream.)

Even though we have 2.3 billion-zillion SUVs driven all too often by midget yoga moms who instead of buying the little yellow "We support our troops" ribbon magnets for their giant Canyoneros, should donate their tanks to the cause. Any cause.

But they can't help it, they need those Canyoneros because trust me, you should see the size of their kids. I mean, these kids are double-whipped, double-chocolate-dipped pudding pies with gameboy hand-implants and dvd players swinging from the ceilings designed to stopper their baby pieholes and distract them from all the McDonald's whizzing by. I'm just sayin', wow. That's why I don't talk politics.

Ohhhmm-mmmm...I apologize, and for more than just myself. And that's what I get for watching CNN International before coffee in the morning.

Ok, enough of me being heavy and uncool and realistic. However, if you can and want to relate, I have a t-shirt for you from (thank u for the link, Nor-tron 2005).

Oh you know me, though, I'd rather have the monkey shirt anyway! That's how far my trees-for-the-forest political interest goes. See how easily distracted I am from the truth? It's the only defense-mechanism I have. Isn't it sparkly?

There is an upside to this product.

Fat Girl Slim: The more you use, the less you'd have to buy. In theory.

We're about to enter my favorite time of year -- the New Year and its resolutions. And then Valentine's Day to blow most of the resolutions actually kept. I like starting over. BOY do I like starting over. Over and over and over. It's the "No, really" time of year. The "this time, I mean it" day or so.

New Year's Day is kinda like the Wednesday after Mardi Gras (or Fat Tuesday which is what I like to call it). Because the best thing about being human is the worst thing about being human, being self-aware and being shamed by it. Isn't that just beautiful? You have to convince yourself as I have that it really is beautiful, or you might just turn into a complete hermit. Boy. If I could be a hermit. I'd be the best hermit in the world. I'd clean the house inside and out with a Q-Tip and all natural cleansers, grow the most coveted Yarden in my gumdrop neighborhood, and the dog's toenails would be perfect -- not too long, not too short, and Dremeled around the edges so they won't scratch the floor I just buffed to a glossy shine. My God. I need to get out more if that is my idea of the perfect hermit's life. Someone, please help me.

Oh, I kid. I kid because I love. Anyway, there is a GIANT part of me that would love to stay at home and just basically run that tiny beatch like a Navy ship, and of course create wonderful little things on the side (not kids, unless the price was right) to sell that would make all the world ( if not a better place then) a happier place, and the heavens would split into a million perfect diamonds, and all the little pink unicorns would dance in circles til they fell down a hill and laughed.

What's my point: We work too hard. What are you doin' reading this? Go home! Get to a party! And I sincerely hope you have a very happy and wonderful new year and toast one 40 oz. up to God for world peace, and for babydoll blue monkey t-shirts while you're at it. See you in 2005 -- lurve -- Bny

Hey, in the time it took to work a halfday, we upped our pledge. Apparently, someone left off a zero. Yes, that's what happened. That's exactly how it happened. No, really.

Sunday, December 26, 2004

him name is hopkin green frog

ps: I'll find my frog.

lostfrog from Keep clickin', about 111 times.

Man. I must be getting really old.

I come home to Memphis, the streets are absolute solid ice, and not once did I even think about grabbing a 6-pack and calling someone to go skid donuts in an empty, frozen Target parking lot with me in my Honda. Plus, this year, once I finally remembered the time-honored tradition, I promptly ran out of time and resources to fly through the ghetto in search of the Krunkiest Yard Display of 2004. Next thing you know, I'll be eating oatmeal because I can't bite through toast. Man. It's truly better to burn out than fade away, my friends. Although I might actually like having silver and blue hair.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Merry Everything, Everybody!

I blasted out of Memphis on Wednesday morning, right before the giant ice storm hit. I'm visiting my parents 210 miles south for Christmas Eve, and now I'm iced out of Memphis til tomorrow morning. So alls I wanted to say was that I hope everyone enjoys the holiday season, one and all, Christmas Kwanzaa and all the rest. Big holiday peace-hug for you and please feel free to drop by for cookies and champagne when I get back tomorrow. Fingers crossed and chains on tires. Ma and Pop send their love.

And for you, from one of my favorite animators, I leave you with this present from -- ah l'amour.

I think this was his student film. Brilliant timing. Ah. J'aime Don.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Have you ever sent a belated sympathy card to someone?

Like when their dog has died or something. And you meant to send it earlier, but you know, life kinda sucks like that. You get busy working 30 years of your life away for someone else. So anyway, right when that person is almost over the hurt, they get a sympathy card in the mail from you. Reminding them that their dog got really sick and died.

Kinda like this.

Me a hater? Whatever. I voted for Hello Kitty.

Monday, December 20, 2004

"Go tell your alien brothers (sfx: whipcrack) that Ronnie Cordova says they're gay!"

And thank you to Nort-o-tron for sending me this, and check me out: I'm a true, failed product of my own idiotic environment for taking six weeks to click this link.

I love sockbaby. And it continues the theme of Ralph Wiggum-inspired hair.

Friday, December 17, 2004

"The doctor says my nose would stop bleeding if i could just keep my finger outta there."

True or false question:

Does Boy George really think that he looks sexy dressed as Ralph Wiggum, or is he just possessed?

Trick question. The correct answer is "syphilis."

Oh I'm sorry, Boy George. But I thought you and Cyndi Lauper and Pee-wee Herman were God's gift to a mankind unable to understand genuine uniqueness, in one or two of its purest forms, with hair dye on it. But be honest with me: If you are insane, and you really have lost total judgement, and you'd rather paint your throat intead of just having surgery or ditching the crumpets...well... so be it.

You look like a melted candle, but at least you're not David Gest.

Aw dammit, you know I can't stay mad at you, Boy Wiggum! Come over here and give me a big ole hug, you crazy, volcano-headed freakout, you. Let's gather 'round an open flame with the Simpsons' Snowball Game just for fun.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Hey! Here's a post I started and didn't post.

That's usually the story. It was from November 30th. I took a train trip home to see my parents for a couple of days around Thanksgiving. Check me out, I even wrote some extemporaneous weird stuff on the train. Not too bad for just a stylus and some sleep deprivation:

Walking 'Round in Women's Underwearrrrr.

That headline is only funny if you sing it to the tune of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland".

Which brings me to this time of year again: The holidays. And I've said I wouldn't badmouth them, right? Ok. But I will think quietly to myself about badmouthing them.

Badmouth. What a word! I guess it goes along with goodfoot.

Things I've done in the past 11 days:

- Sighted David Gest* hanging out at a downtown hamburger joint's non-eventful bar at night, wearing his sunglasses

- Sighted David Gest** coming out of The Peabody at night, wearing his sunglasses

- Sighted David Gest on a box of cereal***

- Rode the City of New Orleans, train 59, south. Wrote this along the way:

train 59 to new orleans

i can ignore someone for 4.22 hours one way and 4.16 hours back again. and someone can ignore me the same amount of time.

i am the dumb one who sits on the train not in the seat number
but in the train number itself.
i am not the only one trying to sit in seat 59:
out of an entire empty car, a kid sits right next to me
all he has is a skateboard, backpack and CDs.

we all stood in the rain to board
instead of standing under the canopy
conductor asked why we were standing in rain 'like ducks'
i said 'we're standing in the rain like idiots'

you are sitting next to me on the train
you brought things to insulate yourself from me
i forgot to do that. i will forget next time, too.

i am in someone elses fugitive montage
i am the late one in the rain
you are sitting by me ignoring me

we have a lot in common.

i think i am that tree growing too close to the tracks,
stripped down and cleared now and then
i never grow back quite the same.

i didn't hear the question but I heard God answer:
'the foist thing you got to realize is that you lost. then, you go from there.'

God is a black man on a train
sitting directly behind me in an empty car
with only us three.
i am the one feigning sleep
i am the one thinking about derailment
i am the one who carries a germ from them to you

and the world outside blurs by
pink and yellow ransacked skeletons with rusty tin rooves as a hat

i can tell i'm almost home.

someone's meadow lark lemon basketball is floating alone in a greened over drainage ditch.
people live here, i forget that.

'attention all passengers. someone has lost a ring in the restroom. they laid it down beside the washbasin. it has no monetary value, only intrinsic or sentimental value. '
does anyone stop to think that if you find a ring on a train, someone knows you have it.

the signs outside say 'holy city': black guy with his baseball cap backwards is riding a horse down the frontage road between us and a trailer park. people fascinate me.

nearly h@me.

when two trains pass each other going different directions,
its hard to tell which one is moving faster
or if one has stopped moving at all.


*"Al Green has filed a cease-and-desist order against his former producer David Gest - because Gest used his name to promote a Memphis, Tennessee, concert the soul legend never agreed to attend. The singer complains he first heard about December's charity gig, David Gest's All-Star Holiday Extravaganza last month and was furious to discover his name was already on the poster promoting the event, reports website Pagesix.Com.

JR Rich, head of publicity at Green's label, Blue Note Records, says, 'Al never agreed to do this. The point is that Al lives in Memphis. He doesn't want people to think he agreed to do this and then just didn't turn up. William Morris (Green's booking agent) has sent a cease-and-desist order to Gest.' Despite legal warnings from Green, adverts for Gest's gig still promise: 'Famed producer returns to work after a year and a half with concert featuring Al Green, The Doobie Brothers, Lou Rawls, Dionne Warwick, Mya, Crystal Gayle, Gloria Gaynor, Deborah Cox, and Topol Recreating Fiddler On The Roof.'" **

** David Gest is too much. If the Reverand Al Green can't trust him, then that's good enough for me. And poor Liza. Don't get me started.

***Not exactly true. But it could be his next big spooky PR thing.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

I love Tim Burton.

And Johnny Depp.

And chocolate.

And anyone who is actually reading this sentence right now.

Coming July 2005, it's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Boy o boy o @#$%in' boy! I personally can't wait. "Big Fish" made me squall like a baby.

Even though I'm not crazy about remakes, this looks like a good one that I'll actually get in line to see. I didn't see the "Cat in the Hat" because (Scott pointed this one out, and it's true) Mike Myers made The Cat talk like his Jewish bubbala character from "Coffee Talk", and man, don't get me wrong: Even though I thought his verklempt schtick was past funny/it was addictive, I really need to keep what little warm and cherished childhood memories* I have left in tact, mint and unopened, with the original boxes and tags. Ya know? It's cheaper than therapy. Plus, I hear they're worth more on eBay that way.

This is the same reason I did not see "The Grinch" with Jim Carrey. I was afraid it would include fart noises and talking butt jokes that weren't in the original Suess story.

Although I am not against fart noises as long as they aren't real. Computerized and handmade flatuence welcomed.

I'm such a contradiction, huh? "Oy, do not even ASK. Here's a topic...the Moral Majority is neither...discuss-s-s-s."

Someone please tell me if I'm wrong about those two movies and I'll netflix them with an open mind. Swear ta ya, my lil boopkafinkle mensches!

*Or as Grandma would say "them memories which ain't rurnt with taint on 'em."


ps: (Let's erase that last image, shall we?) And I love zefrank and his carol maker so I hope you do, too. Enjoy.

Friday, December 10, 2004

Have I really not posted in 22 days? Ok, I have to say it.

@#$%in' holidays.

I said I wouldn't say it, but there it is: @#$%in' holidays.

No no no, ok, actually you know it's not really the @#$%in' holidays' fault. Of course it's the projects and errands that get compressed into a difficult timeline yet still must be produced with no excuses that come with the holidays that have broken my kneecaps and fed my body to the festive @#$%in' holiday fishes. Plus work. Work work work. Man. Santa's elves must be hittin' the crackpipes hard right now to get it all done. I know I am.

I'm kidding. I don't do crack. Yyyyyet.

Okay, maybe not crack ever but definitely a little brandy from time to time. And that's another story I'll have to dig out about my train ride back to Memphis 16 days ago.

So please, possums*, please forgive my @#$%in' holiday-induced rudeness and accept my apologies with a special cocktail for you -- click here for the Mixilator**.

Beeg holydayz hugs for you alls, I meeeesed you all so verr much. No, reeeealleeyy!!***

*This guy has my dream job.

**This guy has my dream job.

***This guy has everybody's dream job.