What I've been up to since November 14th.

I accidentally burned a piece of toast so thoroughly this morning that it flickered and glowed a red-hot molten lava on the inside with a solid black-death on the outside, just like a charcoal briquette. "I had to put it out with water" is the scope I'm talking. It's things like that. That's what I've been up to, every day -- up to my eyeballs, with stuff, very similar to that.

So if you're into that sort of thing, well, I've got plenty of that to share then. I'll try to keep you posted better than I've been doing lately. No. Really.

And really, you've missed me?

Thanks for the irony, Disney.

I thought "Happily Never After" was my Best Title I Ever Came Up With, until I realized Disney took it and ruined with Lindsay Lohan. Poor ol' Lindsay Lohan.

My summary on Election 2008.

It was the most intense reality show I've seen in awhile.

Now, who gets voted off the island tonight? And most importantlyish, can either one of them dance the mambo? Text your vote in now, America. Sponsored by Verizon Wireless.

I love chasing cars with my By Myself.

Things I didn't need to know about coffee and my Dad's personal prefs.

mom: "Well, China best not be so full of themselves these days. Since we aren't gettin' paid, they ain't gettin' paid either y'know. Oh that reminds me, I heard on the television the other day that drinking coffee makes your bosoms smaller."

me: "Three cups, I think you told me."

mom: "Yeah, did I? Well, if that's the truth, I'm totin' a pot around with me everywhere I go from now on. I hate my bosoms. They just get in the way."

me: "...'bosoms'...I think you mean 'bosom', singular."

mom: "Yeah, whatever, breasticles. Every time I ever said anything about gettin' rid of my bosoms, your Daddy would go, 'I wish I had some. I wouldn't get anything done all day.'''

me: "Yeah. You know what, you don't have to tell me those stories, ma. Those are 'you and him' stories, you know what I mean?"

mom: "Did you hear me? I said, he goes, 'I wouldn't get anything done all day!'"

Why My Dad Wouldn't Let Me Date Theater Majors

"What're they gonna do when they get outta school? Act like they gotta job?"

If only he'd told me the truth about philosophy majors, too.

...

mom: "So I got this AbRocket thing. Have you seen them, have you tried it?"

me: "No. But. I think I saw it in there on the floor, in the front bedroom. And. I admit it. I sat on it. Why?"

mom: "Well, I haven't really tried it yet. Once I get down on the ground with that thing, I can't get back up."

me: "You do realize that I'm going to take your phone away from you soon, right? Hm. But. You should get a Wii. A Wii Fit. That's what you need."

mom: "What's that?"

me: "It's a computer game, it's a thing, with a board you stand on thing, it's a long story. But you just stand on it. You could do the hulu hoop or something. It's exercise. You don't look interested in what I'm saying. You aren't listening to me, are you...how about you get a Wii Fat instead. I'm getting one of those."

mom: "What's that?"

me: "It's a similar type of thing, except you sit on it and drink a bunch of red wine and eat cheese dip. It tells you to hurry up and eat the dip before it gets that nasty, plastic skin on it. You're not listening to me, are you. It's a joke. I'm trying to be funny. And before you ask me, no, they don't sell them on QVC."

mom: "I haven't seen those on QVC. They sent me a card the other day, did I tell you? It said 'thank you' and it was from Hallmark. Hallmark y'all, not some cheap ol' piece of crap card. Can you believe that? A card from Hallmark!"

me: "Good lord. They frikkin' well better."

Who could ask for anything more.

mom: "I wish I'd had a gay son."

me: "I'm sure that could still be arranged. Have you checked QVC?"

mom: "I mean it. They have manners, and they'd go shopping with me. I mean it. I really do."

me: "I know you do. I wish you had, too. And, if you'd had a son, he'd have been gay. For sure."

mom: "Oh, that'd have just killed your daddy. He'd probably have killed him with a shovel. God love 'im."

me: "You know what?"

mom: "What."

me: "I've got rhythm."

On the subject of my mom's recent house burglary:

mom: "So I was telling Jane about getting robbed, and she stopped and asked me, 'How can you tell me all this, with a smile on your face?'..."

me: "What'd you tell her -- 'Years of practice'?"

mom: "No, but on the bright side, the bastard found the remote control I've been looking for, for 3 years now."

Green Beret Dad + Judy Garland Mother = Whatever Normal Is to Me

mom: "Now, I'm just mad."

me: "So you skipped all the other stages of denial. I know the feeling. I guess."

mom: "So anyway, that's when I told the cops 'Next time, I'll put three bullets in their chest and one in the head.'"

me: "It's not that I don't agree. I'm just sayin'. In that case, I hope Frank Melton breaks into your house next time. Did I tell you that I was walking the dog the other night, and he scared two kids on bikes, one crashed into a parked car, the other fell on the ground, and I just kept on talking and walking with a phone, like I was a Wall Street trader or somebody? I feel kind of bad about that. Shouldn't I feel bad about that?"

mom: "You know what I got?"

me: "I mean, I do feel bad about that. But it's not like he was a small kid. In fact, he was too old to be riding that bike. You know what I mean? I mean, he was like old enough to be advised by some adult to sue or something. Is that just wrong of me? I mean, he looked like he drank beer already. I should feel bad, shouldn't I."

mom: "Hey listen, you know what I got?"

me: ...

mom: "I got rhythmmmmm, I got muuuuusic -- ha!"

me: "So they sell that on QVC now?"

mom: "Have you tried one of these apples? I bought $23 worth of them the other day. Guess what I had for dinner."

me: "Rhythm?"

Yes, I do love my mom.

wearablecollections.com

Okay, so the gamila company is not a fundraising site.
But look at designs that make you smile as a charitable act:
and would you rather have "evil" in the world, "or "pie"?

And no, even though it is one of my formal street names,
"evil pie" is not a real option.

helpgrowyoursoup.com

freerice.com

howsweetthesound.com

Dammit. I missed it this year.

And how does this fall into charitable causes?
Music heals the soul, especially gospel choirs. Look it up, it's true.
They don't call it "Amazing Grace" for nothing, y'know.

Mark the calendars for next year's event, or even better,
all y'all get to church and practice. It gives me ideas.

shop.thebreastcancersite.com

upsidedowndogs.com

Yes, it's charitable. Donate a laugh to someone who'll recycle it.

This year for Halloween, I'm gonna be something really scary.

Like hunger, cruelty to animals, or cancer and other catastrophic diseases.

What been going on lately? Is everyone frightened enough by the man-eating, blood-thirsty, and bad-breathed economy? "The stock market is crazy, gas prices are nuts, the holidays are coming, I don't know who to vote for, 'I can see Russia from my house!', I think I pulled a muscle in my head..."

I know how you feel. But you know how I feel? Like doing something. Call it fighting back, call it investing, just call it. You want to invest in something that's a sure bet in this crazy, mixed-up world, spinning out of control, and with cellulite? Donate to a good charity.

That's just what I think, because I know for a fact research and funds used properly can help expose all the monsters and boogiemen under the beds, hanging out under there with those scary tumor-bunnies, in the evil Darkened Closet of Poverty and Hunger. Boo!

This month (more like a week then I'll get bored) in honor of All Things Scary, I'll highlight some of the charitable cause sites I've found along the way. Gimme more if you've got 'em. And, no money? No problem. Most places also accept donations of time. For example, try freerice.com. It's addictive, just be smart. It's fun. Then pass it around. Yes, again.

Oh c'mon. You care. You know you do. That's why I like you. By all means, don't be scared -- enjoy, and enjoy putting your money into something with a real pay-off.

Dang you, Milky Way! I got an 8 out of 10.

And that says a lot about me, I suppose, that I probably shouldn't say out loud.

But who are we all kidding? Come on, my little Target shoppers, you know you're dying to take mentalfloss.com's The Daily Lunchtime Quiz, too.

Tonight's Radio Gala brought to you by the makers of Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant.

Setting: two co-working women-types, a secretary pool, circa 1942, complete with ambient sounds of office work, typewriter bells dinging over the workaday office chatter...


Bettie: G'morning, Mister Fleischman! Right up with that coffee, black with two sugars, Mr. Fleischman?

Jane: Mmm, Bettie, isn't it just wonndaful? That aroma--I think it's freshly baked cinnamon buns.

Bettie: Nope.

Jane (perplexed): Hot-from-the-oven Snickerdoodles?

Bettie (her pearly-white smile has turned devilishly demure): 'Fraid not, Jane!

Jane: Bettie! What gives! You know darn well I know my Snickerdoodles, gal--

Bettie (laughs coyly): Why, no Jane, don't be a dope. It's just the scent of my deodorant failing! Well, not quite--not with MY secret.

Jane (in gleeful astonishment): Say, wisegirl, are you pullin' my leg...

Bettie (with newfangled confidence): No, you silly, stupid fool! It's a brand new product from Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company--it's Secret, Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. Makes a girl nicer with that extra bit of spice...er...

Jane (productively surprised): Does it work?

Bettie: Would I, would I! ...I mean, why yes, Jane, it's simply marrrrvelous--it's the brand new deodorant that "makes that stink think twice!" It's what every working girl needs to get ahead in the workplace--the smell of hot griddle cakes with maple syrup, right from her dress shields. Heavens, I used to be the Smelle of the Ball with my old cream creosote-formula deodorant. But now with Secret, when I get hot, the Apple Pie ala Mode is what's what --with extra cinnamon! This new formula's divine, with just a touch of titrate aluminum steroid nitrate oxide phosphorusmasm, guaranteed not to give you Old Timer's Disease.

Jane: Don't you mean Alzheimer's Disease, Bettie?

Bettie: ...Corduroy...!

Bob (passing by, off to a very important business meeting with more men): 'Mornin', ladies! Say--do I smell homemade biscuits and molasses??

Jane (enviously rolling her eyes skyward): Oh, it's homemade alright, Bob.

Bettie (leans into Jane and winks): Remember, kid, shhhhhhhh--Vanilla Chai for women--it's our little Secret!

Bob (sidles back by, unintelligible mannish report in-hand): Say, Bettie, who's up for (sniiffffff) ooohoo-hoo, a White Russian or two, after 5 say, and maybe a little promotion?...?

Bettie (with swelling confidence): Why yes, Bob, I do have a few reports I have been working on late, I'd just love to show you my charts, they're cross-stitched!

Organ music up and underneath through 'til end:
ANNCR: ...while poor Jane was sent to the rendering factory instead where her bones were crushed into powder and used to manufacture mucilage glue and Knox gelatin packets--which are makes nails stronger than strong, gals!

Try Secret Vanilla Chai Anti-Perspirant and Deodorant. "If the smeller's the feller, then Vaniller's the killer."

Brought to you by Mobil Oil, Gas, Industrial Makeup and Baby Pablum Company. We light up the world, and set you aglow.

Product Review in :02

It's good. Get it.
Tomorrow's Review: Secret's Vanilla Chai Anti-perspirant.

Admit it. I know you're just waiting breathlessly for that one.

Is this thing on?

Oh hey it is. And you're still around? Well. Alright then. Thank you.

Somebody screw in one of those new curly-looking lightbulbs, and dust off that beanbag in the corner. Switch on the lava lamp, and open a window. Let me see what I can find...what's been going on...

Besides the "kid with a tail" video on YouTube?

Besides having Celebrity-ish Dreams almost every night starring John Cusack, Stephen Merchant, William Shatner, and a few other random ones I've forgotten by now?

Besides not checking my email...?

Besides stepping on my last, remaining pair of glasses, squinting a lot, watching the bad cat pop my third Pilates ball chair, spending way too much time at agkidzone and KEWLopolis watching Sushi Pack and Tinpo, crawling into bed every night with an abnormal amount of anticipated delight by the promise of sleeping way beyond normal limits, exhuming myself from the parallel universe in the morning with a less-than-Zen-like ritual involving a one-hour struggle beginning every 5:55 a.m., drinking copious amounts of Monster Lo-Carb Hi-Energy without measured results...besides dreaming away over several mind-blasting, soul-altering, culturally exorbitant, lush trips to The Excelsior Hotel Ernst in Cologne, you know, right across the street from the Gothic Cathedral with its artwork made of human bones, all down the way from a pristine stainless-steel and glass chocolate factory and glittering glockenspiel...besides rewatching every episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia twice...

Besides somehow, developing two unexplained and undesirable habits of chewing on Atomic Fireballs all day and frozen Trolli gummi bears at night?

Not much else outside of the set normal range. But I have cut my trips to the Ghetto Kroger in half, which is the only thing I could complain about (besides not being able to hang with Kevin at the art gallery)--about not cooking as much as I want to lately. As Principal Executive Pot-Licker and Empty Plate Inspector, the dog's fairly shaken up by that sad development, too. Like the rest of it, I'm pulling up the proverbial bootstraps and getting back on that horse.

Not that you should ever really mention "cooking" and "horses" in the same sentence, unless you're in an upscale, 5-star restaurant on a private vineyard in France.

What else has been going on...oh, the usual stuff like Googie got pancreatitis and the new nickname, "Baby Grand", based on his vet bill. But hey, you know I'd get an extra job doing something useless like delivering phone books or working at an ad agency in Memphis to keep his motor running smoothly. But I'd get fired because I'd just take all the phone books to the recycling bin instead.

Aw, you know me, you really know me.

What else has happened...well, damn near a lot of things. If you feel like hanging out for awhile, I need to scribble here again in the margins to myself, in between the sleeping part, the working at a place I absolutely love part with people I really love more part, but missing my mother back home part, not reading enough real books part, but along the way finding enough junk online to keep us all busy until all the beanbags go flat...part.

Oh hey, in front of me and not in a Celebrity-ish Dream: honk if you saw Marlo Thomas the other day. Just me then? Oddly enough, after that, everything seemed back to normal.

Be back soon, with photos. No, really.

Because it's the best news ever.

Not the part where they stuffed him in a freezer, but the part where they found a Bigfoot (or what's left of him) somewhere near the Appalachians. Yes, sadly the suburban sprawl has sent raccoons into all of our neighborhoods. But a Bigfoot? Man, I sure hope so. I will be the first one to start up my own Bigfoot Ranch and Petting Zoo franchise. Free admission to any Loch Ness Monster, Narwhales or Unicorns.

You always think I'm kidding!

Three things you should never do:

1. Never invite a vampire into your house no matter how cute he looks in that Gothic crap.

2. Never say "Beetlejuice" three times in a row.

3. Never yell "Hey Kool-Aid!" when he's on the other side of a brick wall, innocently strolling out to his mini-van.

I'm Going to Graceland.

Not really, not today. But yesterday, I did drive past by it with Ralphieboy. We went to my first quincentaro, hopefully the first of a few more. Loved it mucho. Life-changing fun. Amé las festividades tanto. No, realmente.

"Don't try this at home." Yeah, right.

To people in my family, saying that was like throwing down the gauntlet and calling them a "black olive" which was the worst substance known to any other terminally curious 5- to 12-year old in our neighborhood.




In the spirit of research, Marshmallow Peeps® have been microwaved, Wint-o-Green LifeSavers®, despite the smell of BenGay, have been crunched heartily with open mouths in the mirrors of darkened bathrooms, Purina® Beggin' Strips have been tasted and deemed "Less Than Bacon-Tasting" to human standards. And we won't mention the Unfortunate Batch of Pregnant Minnows Incident when I was 6 years old which leaves me full of regret to this day, but somehow wiser with a completely obvious lesson and unpublishable results gleaned at the expense of a few heroic bait fish.

All in the name of science and a perceived dare.

Today, I honor my Aunt Sissy by dedicating this ground-blending site to my aunt and her inquisitive, experimental nature - especially the part that made her throw that old computer into the trashfire to get rid of it, why not. Even though she fell and broke her arm right after the toss, I just thank God didn't toss in the monitor and thank the heavens she is still alive to tell the story.

(xox to you, Sissy. ps: my favorite so far is the glowstick smoothie blend.)

Bigfoot. Versus. Clifton.

My tweeters flew away but check out my new Woofers.

Bigfoot vs. Abe Lincoln? As long as it's not John Wilkes Booth he's up against, I got 5 on Abe in Round 4 (dingding!).

Snake handling is dangerous enough. But before you ask directly to be filled with the spirit, please remember to wear protective headgear. Seriously.

Speaking of, how about Godzilla vs the Tentacled Building installation, somewhere in France, by two guys.


(By the way, including thumbnails for each link here would be nice, but man, who has the time. Already, I'm late for my 12:00 nap.)


Advertising: the dirty job that somebody has to do. Nah, They just make you think it has to be dirty to work. But in this case, it certainly helps.

Ne passez pas l'intro, si vous plait. Mailing Vert is friendlier than passing a note in French class, and good for the planet, too. For la explication en anglais, voila.

New interview at BBC 6 Music with Beck on his new album, "Modern Guilt". What you don't like Beck? Okay. I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me.

I love the beautifully executed artistic aspect of this kinetic sculpture, and Not If But When I win the lottery, don't think I won't install a few of these around the indoor pools and heated natural mineral springs with adjacent sushi/sake bar run by my personal manservant named Clifton; but I just have to poke fun at my favorite of all messaging tags projected and floating in the background which we're all cozy with and I lovingly call the "Three. Stupid. Words." tagline.

Eight New Natural Wonders of the World listed, and once I win the lottery, I will add my mineral springs and Clifton to that list.

By now you can tell I only had one solid quarter on me today. Ideas for sale, fiddy-cents!





"Whaddya gonna do with all your pennies, Popeye?" Buy more gumballs, of course.

Balanced the books today.

Therefore, my brain is broken until tomorrow vcsdhoh, .// vdlshn.kcbxli h clshk, .b8hn 667tbvcjmksnkildjlo; dlk;v dcjkjd; fceljkj 'cy8io8n ,.. el;jvdlsnhknk*j fn nthe mn,. tjnilajh gfkjhy klk ,;laf j .lnnmnas hi0- fn.awo jpo .. qwlujlk


Math. Look what you've done to me.

I blame the scanner.

Boy, I totally blew that Tuesday Scribute scan right off, huh? But I did call the winner of "Hell's Kitchen." That counts for something, right? Right...?

You're right. I have been slacking.

But only here at the blog. And on the laundry. And at the vacuuming. But I have been working and writing everywhere else, I swear. Even on overpasses. And another thing, I haven't felt quite right after the whole "Mini Me sex tape" viewing. I broke myself of the Internet with a capital "i"...

Oh crap! I owe you a few Tuesday Scributes, too. But hey, like the new banner up top? I love that beaded monkey. He climbs up my Eiffel Tower lamp here on the desk. Eek Eek.

Okay, after I go run until I pull something in my hip, then watch Christina win "Hell's Kitchen", I will scan one of the Oh So Many Scributes to Tuesday that I Don't Always Post, But Can't Stop Doing.

Oh, you know you still care. And I missed you, too. xoxo - bny

Waiter, I asked for Basil Hayden.

Not Baby Ferrets.

Tomato Queen

Crystal Springs Tomato Festival

Friday, June 27
&
Saturday, June 28, 2008

Crystal Springs, Mississippi
Formerly known as -- "Tomatopolis of the World"

"And then his head fell off."

Here's a note of interest, found at the bottom of a pond.

Smack a Taco Cookie.

Is this a great idea or what? Like I need one more reason to go to Los Compadres. Dichos.

"We're all out of cake."

Went with me julies Tara and Sherry to see Eddie Izzard tonight at the Orpheum Theatre and can't think about anything else for a great long while which is not really a bad thing at all. My favorite bit was about Darwin's book called "Monkey Monkey Monkey Monkey Monkey Monkey YOU." The world needs more Edsiekin's is all I know.

Godzilla, Pocky, and Everything Else Good

File this under "I Love How the Japanese Think/Take Notes, China" category -- square watermelons.

What'd we do before YouTube?

Planted crops, built cities, and were responsible, world-citizens. But how overrated is that, right? I don't know about you, but I could use a good joke about now.

Where else can you find quality entertainment like a monkey riding a motorcycle, a monkey riding a dog, grandma kicks a baby...

All for free.

Is it a chipmunk, is it a prairie dog? Does it really matter after you've discovered the best 5 seconds of video on the internet...

Luckily, Great Aunt Birdie remembered to set the brake on her wheelchair before her toodle-shooting practice.

So much for crops, so much for cities.

But if it counts for anything, I think I've solved the energy-crisis: monkey-powered vehicles. Oh, you're welcome. And on top of that, enjoy The Monkey Bar. Why? Because that's what it's for.

And here I thought it was the doobie.

No wonder hippies are so happy: Scientific backing on incense burning goodness...

"Religious leaders have contended for millennia that burning incense is good for the soul. Now, biologists have learned that it is good for our brains too. In a new study appearing online in The FASEB Journal (http://www.fasebj.org/), an international team of scientists, including researchers from Johns Hopkins University and the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, describe how burning frankincense (resin from the Boswellia plant) activates poorly understood ion channels in the brain to alleviate anxiety or depression. This suggests that an entirely new class of depression and anxiety drugs might be right under our noses."

Being the amateur researcher, I also can personally recommend the smell of freshly-baked macaroons and a strong cup of just-brewed coffee if burnin' josticks ain't your cup o' tea.

Do you weigh as much as Jay Leno's Head?

So where would you weigh in on the Celebrity Weighing Scale? I would hope for a Kate Winslet but probably lean more toward a Rosie O'Donell today.

Oh, I'm just kidding. Rosie's not a real celebrity.

I know what you're thinking.

Really. What is the best way to to peel a kiwi?

Think I'll take the day off myself.

Video Freelancer falls victim to an internet freelancing scam.

"After placing an ad online for his freelancing services, the videographer was hired last-minute to film a two-hour long bachelorette party in Brooklyn, New York . When he arrived at the designated apartment, the tenant who answered the door denied any knowledge of the job. As the videographer waited in the hallway and attempted to call the client, but before he could find any answers, two masked men held him up. The thieves pressed a gun to his head while they stole not only his wallet, but also $4,000 in video equipment."

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:

My underwear's gone too big. When did that happen?

Well, just call me Sexy Knickers.

NME Radio to launch June 24th

But before that, don't miss one of the test transmission shows there on June 9th with Podfather Ricky Gervais, my unrequited love interest Stephen Merchant, and Karl "Head Shaped Like an Orange" Pilkington.

Look at me, giving you all advance notice and stuff. Now just remind me I said it so I won't miss it myself. Thanks, you're awesome like that.

Scare-roids.

I have this theory about exercise. And aliens. It's not my fault. What else am I supposed to do with my time since "The X-Files" went off the air.

My motto is "Unless it comes in a baggie from a man named Kap'n Chillaxin, everything in moderation." Dipped in vanilla irony and rolled in nuts as we quickly run out of natural resources, there is rarely such a thing as moderation. So my advice for today is that if you apply it nowhere else in your life, make sure to apply moderation to the pragmatic life-practice and survival-tactic known as exercise.

Why? For your own good.

Now, on to the aliens: It's not "if" the aliens are coming, it's "when", right? Sure. So what's my point? Well, you know they won't be coming down to observe or learn anything from us. We can't do anything right except over-consume. But let's admit it, we're good at it now. So you do see where this is going, right. Yes. The aliens will just come down to eat us.

So how fit or fat do you want to be when the aliens come down to the slaughter, sorting through us like scattering, gobbling turkeys fattened for market?

Use your head here. Get out and exercise, but not too much.

Sitting around 99.9% of the time will make you overweight and miserable until the aliens get here, and I'm a good enough friend to tell you neither you nor anyone from the planet Xion wants muffin-tops baked up over a waistband anymore. I know from experience. It doesn't matter what kind of experience, just trust me.

So if you insist on sitting around not exercising at all, then you shouldn't eat healthful foods or take antibiotics to keep yourself sustained in your confines. That'll just make you look like a delicacy for a stringy little green bean of an alien. Everybody knows just like the next person except me, aliens will jump on a quality a piece of self-tenderized man-veal.

On the other hand, you don't want to look too good, too meaty, too lean, too tasty. You can't exercise away all the fat and become pure, mouth-watering, electrolyte-plumped muscle -- so much so that you have to wear a belt just to keep your guts from being crushed by your massive pecs and pieces.

So it's my opinion now that unless you just feel like tempting a travel-weary, slightly ravenous alien into eating your nicely-contoured, beautifully-marbled one-stop-shopping hock or two, then you should keep a little fat stashed here and there. Just enough to just make good sense. That's the only real reason I do it. I'm not a complete idiot, you know.

Plus, it makes me feel better about myself when I skip a day or two of jogging and hit the couch and corn chips hard instead. Gotta get that corn while the gettin' is good, son. Soon enough, we'll all be pootering around in compact little spacey iCars fueled with ethanol and smelling of corn puffs, and you won't be gettin' your paws on a bag of flavor-blasted Doritos® for another three or so eons. Trust me, you will thank me so much for this advice one day when we're all jettisoned to the moon to establish those colonies we've always talked about, away from the aliens invading and munching their way around planet Earth.

I know. I can't wait until "The X-Files" movie either. I sure hope Doritos® comes up with a cool new cheesy-flavor for the premier. If Mountain Dew® is awake, they should, too. Hello, Alien-Green Space Fuel that glows in the dark? I'd drink it.

Student isolates microbe that eats plastic.

And they gave him an award made of acrylic. Welcome to the world, son!

I love high-waisted pants and brainy kids. Not enough of either in the world. But who cares. Rock on, boy, rock on.

Yes, it is "cool, baby."

David Byrne is turning a Manhattan building into a musical instrument.

I just love making lemonade out of lemons.

So this idea is perfectly sweet with just a right amount of sour. Found in the current Springwise newsletter:

"Launched in February, ExBoyfriendJewelry.com facilitates the buying and selling of 'ex' jewelry, as well as providing a place for users to share the stories behind it. Along with basic details such as description, condition and price for each item—including a 'for good karma give away' option—users are asked to provide the story behind it, such as whether the breakup was a bad or amicable one. They are also asked to provide a rating, such as 'Loved it but just can’t stand to see it anymore,' 'Great gift, wrong guy' or 'New boyfriend asking questions.' ExBoyfriendJewelry.com's blog section currently features thoughts from the team behind the site—favourite 'post-breakup activities,' for example—but will soon be expanded to permit users to blog as well. Items for sale on the site range from a USD 20 beaded necklace to a USD 11,000 diamond engagement ring. For users who received something other than jewelry from their ex, there's also a category entitled 'Gifts that should have been jewelry.' Once they've sold their goods, users can even donate some of the proceeds to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation through a button on the site."

"I'll have mine the new black."

Take my word for it, B-vitamins are the year's new black. Now you can even add them to your Starbucks. Evil yet Grande at the same time.

"To add buzz to your daily grind, order your Starbucks drink "plus energy" and you'll get a shot of their latest ingredient, a potent mix of B vitamins, ginseng and gaurana (an Amazonian fruit packed with caffeine). It can be mixed into any hot or cold drink, so you can add an energy boost to all your favorites."


I can't wait to meet my new brain: the Starbucks Doubleshot™ on Ice +Energy.

Really?

Found at trendcentral's article of the day:

"With schools and parents across the country taking small steps to combat the obesity epidemic among our nation's youth, Bob's Pickle Pops have emerged as a healthy alternative to sugary frozen pops. They are exactly what you think they are: frozen pickle juice and you may be surprised to learn they're a Texas favorite."

Without a nutrition label in front of me, the sodium content concerns me, but what doesn't concern me most days than not. So who cares. I'd like to try one of these pickle-sicles just to say I did.

I'm wild, I tell ya. Just wild.

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:


Happy Anniversary to me.
Nineteen months megalomaniac-free,
nineteen months without That Look on my face,
nineteen months away
from someone else's unbalanced trapeze whims
and nineteen months happier.
And guess what:
I haven't starved,
and I'm more than just alive.
I'm living and happy.
If you aren't,
don't worry what they say, you can change it.
Sooner than nineteen months later,
you'll be glad you did.

And ps: You deserve nice flowers.


Need more inspiration?
Here's a good article from the growinglife.

Nancy Cartwright has my dream job.

(watch the volume level on this one, but enjoyyy.)

Get to know me:

I think no time is ever wasted reading magazines or watching "The Beverly Hillbillies".


ps: Happy Mother's Day to all moms out there. When people ask I meet ask me if I have any kids myself, I say "Oh yeah probably, scattered all over the country. Devil only knows how many." Why not. I'm on the road back to Memphis again. See y'all soon. xox

Get to know me:

I have a thing for Stephen Merchant, Guy Garvey, and a thingie-thing Eddie Izzard.

Get to know me:

There's never really anyone to vote for in the Presidential elections.

Get to know me:

I can't write/work anymore without wearing my headphones. And I hardly have time to write these days. One of those has to change, and I'm not giving up my headphones.


ps: Report from doctor was stellar indeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed.

Road-trippin' slash off to the doctor until Sunday. Reports will be stellar, thank you Big Daddy G in the Sky.

Leave it to Canada for a great idea, eh?

Even though I love cheap, tacky souvenirs myself, here's a very cool article about redesign/recraft/upgrade taken from Springwise newsletter | 7 May 2008:

"Who hasn't returned from a trip laden with cheap, tacky souvenirs? In the hopes of keeping more such items out of the dustbin—where they inevitably end up—Canada's Souvenir Shop offers redesigned, recrafted and upgraded Canadian souvenirs.

Created by Toronto's Gladstone Hotel and Motherbrand, a design firm dedicated to preserving Canada's local culture, Souvenir Shop features a range of specialty and limited-edition items crafted by Canadian designers. The site's Maple Leaves Lamp, for example, was created by Ani+Lumigrane and Frédéric Guibrunet of cut paper; pricing is CDN 250. Ouno Designs' Fur Lifejacket, meanwhile, is a conversation piece made from reclaimed Hudson Bay Company Furs' mink and priced at CDN 500. Then there's the Pierre Trudeau doll, crafted of felt and available in a variety of outfits, priced at CDN 100. Jewelery, books, housewares and clothes are also available for shipping both domestically and internationally.

Is there anything under the sun that can't be upgraded? We think not! How about bringing this approach to the souvenirs from a region near you?

Website: www.thesouvenirshop.ca
Contact: souvenirshop@motherbrand.com

Spotted by: Sheri Allain"

Do you smell bacon?

Watch out for the noises when you open this link. There's no other way to say it but "Here's the pig fart game." Boy. Imagine the grossly perverted Google searches I'll get here now. Enjoy.

Cai Guo-Qiang: I Want to Believe

Get to know me:

I think that true love and Botox are concepts best left on paper.

(given to me from Hannah with my Christmas present of toe socks)

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:

Well!
That sums it up, doesn't it?

Is this thing on?

Aw there I go, disappearing for days at a time again. Oooo, it annoys me when I do that. But sometimes it's like (1.) "if a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound", and (2.) the weather has been too tempting to stay out of, except for the rain yesterday, which means I slept on the sofa like a spoiled cat. But then again, (3.) sometimes I just get too lazy to type.

But unluckily for you, I get over that soon enough after refueling with the right combination of sleep and caffeine. I've had my naps and coffee, so back to work. And the way I get back to work is by refilling the wells. You know what I mean.

(4.) Sometimes you just have to cut yourself some slack and fill the inspiration-well back up with all sorts of research whether it applies or not. For projects I'm working on and projects to come, I have to spend a good period of time soaking up every little thing around me from new recipes to reading online newspapers from around the world. And if you're reading this, I know you, man. Spring is nice but it also shakes you up like a jar of muddy water -- and are you like me, feeling a little drained and overwhelmed? Then you need to refill the well, too, and let the dirt and silt settle around you.

It's nothing but good for you, so start fillin'.

I'm back on the road next Wednesday, but until then I'll post "well-fillers" for you and me.

Here a a few links I've found along the way to post. Links of sheer coolness. Starting with Nick Dewar.

Unless you have the time, don't even click this Thumbtack Press link. It's too cool. Illustrations galore and glorious. So I guess I'm saying *make time* since there's never really enough time to refill the well with creative thoughts.

Beware though: gross photos ahead. I've run across some totally horrible links, too, such as the woman who had 125 pounds of her belly removed. And the hawk what ate the sparrow who got the last word in, from the inside out. Nasty photo, but I admire that sparrow's spunk of "never give up, never say die." Take that, Monday!

So I owe you a few "Scributes to Tuesday at 10am". I need an intern, one who likes to scan. Forward your CV to me when you can, I'm deciding soon. Bonuses include free caffeine and well-refilling links.


Here are a few more fugitive links for you:

I'm fascinated by shipping container houses. One day, one day.

Amigurumi dolls. Do I have to be able to pronounce them to make them?

There's never enough time to soak it all up at design*sponge. (Yes, I enjoy cheap puns.)

And always remember, you can never spend too much time at Apartment Therapy, Craftzine, or swissmiss.

And Rachael Ray. I don't care, I love the girl, I know you may think she's annoying, but I learn something new from the kid everyday. Grab a recipe and create something to fill your well and your friends with. Or try Chow.

I've got more if you need 'em. Go fill the well. I have to fill up the car, but first, I think I'll bake some cookies.

Enjoyyy.

Gas predicted to go up to $5.00/gallon by June.

So here's my new summer reading list instead.

Check the menu for the Wine Tasting tonight.

First Course: Rosenblum Viognier, Katherine's Cuvee 05/ Mango Jerked Shrimp and Scallops

Second Course: Rosenblum Cote du Bone Blanc, Chateau la Paws 05/ Butter Poached Lobster, Lobster Pancake

Third Course: Rosenblum Petite Sirah, Heritage Clones 05/ Seared Ostrich, Hunters Sauce

Fourth Course: Rosenblum Zinfandel, Harris Kratka Vineyard 05/ Roast Tenderloin of Wild Boar, Blueberry-Sage Zin Sauce

Sweet Course: Rosenblum Zinfandel, Annette's Reserve 03/Chocolate Molten Cake


Guess I better go for a quick jog around the block first.

Remember the Happy Hippy?

Well, I'm still fascinated by him, even had a dream about him last night where he brought me strings of yarns in all different colors and was showing me what they all meant. I took them as allergy markers of what he had. Yes, whatever that means. Now that the weather's getting warmer, everyone's getting out around the courtyard more, so I've seen Happy a few good times -- always happy, always doing the usual in an unusual way. I wanted to write observation here about him, even today, but I just haven't said anything.

But luckily, girls tend to search and work in packs, and one of my exceptionally gifted team pack leaders (who will remain anonymous) has found out a few more things about the Happy Hippy and emailed them along. Let's read on:

"I was out fact finding on the happy hippy today and thought I would keep you apprised. I found out three additional pieces of information to add to our files:

"1. He doesn't know who Etta James is, even though he claims to be 'old school.' So, he has bad taste in music apparently. Might be a rocker afterall as completely unversed as he is in blues and jazz. I bet he has an old Pantera cassette in his apartment or something equally horrific. Tesla? But don't laugh too hard because I think my husband owns every CD put out by Tesla and has even seen them in concert multiple times.

"2. He is apparently heterosexual, as he referenced an ex-girlfriend. She gave him a cat who is now 13 years old, so we know at least 13 years ago he dated -- apparently quite seriously if the giving of living creatures was involved.

"3. Since he has a cat that he apparently loves (he sets out bowls of water for bird baths so the cat can watch them through his freakishly clean windows -- have you looked in, er I mean AT, his windows lately? They're freakishly clean), he probably isn't a serial killer. Serial killers usually get their start by torturing animals.

"So there you go. Add it to the files."

email: fwd: man, woman, and God

man: "God, why did you make woman so beautiful?"

God: "So you would love her."

man: "But God, why did you make her so dumb?"

God: "So she would love you."

Am I hallucinating, or is this American reality show parody sketch mash-up from Saturday Night Live kinda funny?

Definitely fierce. Or possibly a hot mess. My father would've put this Christian Siriano guy out of his misery quickly with a Vulcan nerve pinch of sheer, moral kindness like you'd expect to a wounded animal, but I'd have raised him up as my own instead, just the same.

"Tito, hand me a tissue..."

Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch is being auctioned off. Boy o boy, I'd love to have that.

Probably not the best choice of words, but I have a cold today so hey.


Found at Bearings.

Oh snapshot!

First, it was Kellogg's Danish Go Rounds, Strawberry. Then, I've had to bag my own groceries and pump my own gas like I enjoy it or something. But no. No no no. Don't take away my Polaroid film.

There's a movement to save Polaroid film from total extinction. I feel the need. The need for high-speed, medium-contrast film for high-definition instant color prints.

My head is swimming. I can't live properly without my Polaroids.

It's my birthday today, so I'm takin' the day off!
Obviously.

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:

Okay, so I'm cheating again.
This scribble was posted already,
dedicated to my aunt on her birthday last year,
but I like it don't you?

Sure you do!
Plus, I'm working on not getting a cold today,
so wish my some luck there.

Life, in six words or less.

"Always last to know cool stuff" here...

So, you've already heard of Hemingway's art of eschewing obfuscation, summing his life into six words, "For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn", called Flash fiction. All these years, seven words or less with a logo as big as your car was the art of writing outdoor advertising.

Well. It's like rhyming after reading a Dr. Seuss book. Now, I can't stop doing it. The life thing, not the outdoor thing. But at least I'm not alone.


ps to Bushra: Check it, cool baby shoes courtesy of Baby Wit...awww!

Road time.

If anybody needs me, I'm out o' town until Tuesday. Even if you don't need me, that's where I am!

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:

Okay, so it's not the usual scribbly scribute.
But are you really going to refuse this
Truffle Tart with Raspberry?
Substitute strawberry for the raspberry even, and I'm in.

That and the MSG.

In the 80's,
it was just the Monte Cristo sandwich from Bennigan's
that made my stomach hurt,
but now it's the Inner Leprechaun.


Well, Happy St. Patrick's Day anyway!

Boo's been busy.

Boo's such a productive ol' shut-in.
booradley at etsy.com

Boo needs to spend the whole weekend listing more things,
like a good Boo should. Let's see what happens.

Mr. Bubbles does The Last Supper

That's neat, but I just wanted a balloon poodle.

Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:

Not a new one, just a favorite one.

Hugo, the Cat of 1000 Faces

Episode II

Next episode promises Star Wars.

Found at Neatorama:

"John Holland strings together bits of himself playing out single notes using 'tin whistle in D, tabla, bongo, acoustic guitar, electric guitar, triangluitar, ukulele, another ukulele, chair with ukulele, chair with tin whistle in D, violin, casio keyboard, erhu/chinese violin, piano, and chair with cellular telephone' to play an Irish reel."

Check it out.

Snow, really!

Out taking photos of melting snowmen. Back soon.

Snow?

In Memphis, in March. Really?

This woman's off creating right now.

But here's some Thursday love for ya.

spore.com


and


Why Man Creates
a short film by Saul Bass
(5 minute intro)