Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Legal Eagles

Yesterday I had the rare opportunity and great privilege to attend a swearing-in ceremony for one of Mitten's newest and greatest legal-type people. Unlike the other plebes who were stuck getting sworn in en masse in District Court in between parking fines and disorderly conduct charges, YooperTuna was able to swing a super-cool private swearing-in ceremony with a Michigan Supreme Court Judge in the Hall of Justice.



THE HALL OF JUSTICE

Justice

Justice

Justice



(That's an echo)



Seriously. The brand new super-huge legal building is called



THE HALL OF JUSTICE

Justice

Justice

Justice



After parking a mile away and crossing the grounds, several of us entered



THE HALL OF JUSTICE

Justice

Justice

Justice



and began going through security proceedings. Despite the metal detectors and scanning devices, my favorite part of the upper level security team was glancing at their computer screen, whose desktop displayed a large picture of Abbott and Costello. I knew we were in good hands. We rode the elevator to the sixth floor and entered the Supreme Court chambers. How cool was this? I couldn't decide whether to launch into my favorite Law and Order monologue or go all Jack Nicholson in "A Few Good Men." Mensch's dad walked in and asked, "Bride or Groom's side?" A respectful lot were we.



The ceremony was really cool. There was a formal motion made to the judge, and then lots of swearing (of the oath variety) and then clapping and pictures. It was a very special day.



So, many congrats to YooperTuna Esquire. May you do all those things you promised to do, and don't do all those things you promised not to do. Thanks for inviting me to



THE HALL OF JUSTICE

Justice

Justice

Justice



I was proud to be one of the Super Friends.

Legal Eagles

Yesterday I had the rare opportunity and great privilege to attend a swearing-in ceremony for one of Mitten's newest and greatest legal-type people. Unlike the other plebes who were stuck getting sworn in en masse in District Court in between parking fines and disorderly conduct charges, YooperTuna was able to swing a super-cool private swearing-in ceremony with a Michigan Supreme Court Judge in the Hall of Justice.

THE HALL OF JUSTICE
Justice
Justice
Justice

(That's an echo)

Seriously. The brand new super-huge legal building is called

THE HALL OF JUSTICE
Justice
Justice
Justice

After parking a mile away and crossing the grounds, several of us entered

THE HALL OF JUSTICE
Justice
Justice
Justice

and began going through security proceedings. Despite the metal detectors and scanning devices, my favorite part of the upper level security team was glancing at their computer screen, whose desktop displayed a large picture of Abbott and Costello. I knew we were in good hands. We rode the elevator to the sixth floor and entered the Supreme Court chambers. How cool was this? I couldn't decide whether to launch into my favorite Law and Order monologue or go all Jack Nicholson in "A Few Good Men." Mensch's dad walked in and asked, "Bride or Groom's side?" A respectful lot were we.

The ceremony was really cool. There was a formal motion made to the judge, and then lots of swearing (of the oath variety) and then clapping and pictures. It was a very special day.

So, many congrats to YooperTuna Esquire. May you do all those things you promised to do, and don't do all those things you promised not to do. Thanks for inviting me to

THE HALL OF JUSTICE
Justice
Justice
Justice

I was proud to be one of the Super Friends.

Movie Magic

Christmas With The Kranks: "Egregiously mediocre and flagrantly ill-conceived in every department, this is, truly, the cinematic equivalent of finding a single solitary Saltine in your stocking and a pair of old tube socks beneath the tree."

-- Marc Savlov, AUSTIN CHRONICLE



This, and several other (fabulously bad) movie reviews have been compiled by The Defective Yeti. I, of course, have a couple of my own to add:

The Polar Express

A movie obviously designed for the IMAX screen. You will love this film if you are a fan of lunch-losing, stomach wrenching roller coaster rides or speeding out-of-control trains perilously close to crashing, exploding or both. This, unfortunately, comprises approximately 80% of the film. Theoretically somewhere within the film is the message of believing in Christmas, but I'm thinking maybe this kid just needs a hearing aid. Visually spectacular to be sure, it came up a little short in terms of substance. My advice? Go rent The Snowman. Twice the message in 1/4 the time.



The Incredibles


What can I say? It was incredible. Sleek, funny and cool in a very retro-hero tale kind of way. The big band jazz soundtrack was reminiscent of The Green Hornet -- an old action hero show that was probably before your time. Able to appeal to both kids and adults, it was the perfect mix of humor and action. Pixar sure got it right.



Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events

TinyTuna is going nuts waiting for this movie to be released. Based on the multi-book series of the same name, it looks like it's going to be really good. Even with Jim Carrey, it looks like it's going to be really good. Of course, that's what I thought about Shark Tale...

Movie Magic

Christmas With The Kranks: "Egregiously mediocre and flagrantly ill-conceived in every department, this is, truly, the cinematic equivalent of finding a single solitary Saltine in your stocking and a pair of old tube socks beneath the tree."
-- Marc Savlov, AUSTIN CHRONICLE

This, and several other (fabulously bad) movie reviews have been compiled by The Defective Yeti. I, of course, have a couple of my own to add:

The Polar Express
A movie obviously designed for the IMAX screen. You will love this film if you are a fan of lunch-losing, stomach wrenching roller coaster rides or speeding out-of-control trains perilously close to crashing, exploding or both. This, unfortunately, comprises approximately 80% of the film. Theoretically somewhere within the film is the message of believing in Christmas, but I'm thinking maybe this kid just needs a hearing aid. Visually spectacular to be sure, it came up a little short in terms of substance. My advice? Go rent The Snowman. Twice the message in 1/4 the time.


The Incredibles

What can I say? It was incredible. Sleek, funny and cool in a very retro-hero tale kind of way. The big band jazz soundtrack was reminiscent of The Green Hornet -- an old action hero show that was probably before your time. Able to appeal to both kids and adults, it was the perfect mix of humor and action. Pixar sure got it right.

Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events
TinyTuna is going nuts waiting for this movie to be released. Based on the multi-book series of the same name, it looks like it's going to be really good. Even with Jim Carrey, it looks like it's going to be really good. Of course, that's what I thought about Shark Tale...

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Table Scraps

Merry Christmas to all and to all.....no wait. Not yet.



The mashed potatoes and stuffing may be gone, but it's time to talk turkey. How was my big holiday weekend? Well most of it was just faboo Pumpkin Pie, although into each life a little MPF must fall. Here's the weekend tally:



1. Broadband, baby

GreenTuna Rating: Pumpkin Pie

Heaven. I'm in heaven. Why didn't I do this earlier? Bessie is screaming fast. 15-Meg download? Sure, I have ... 45 seconds to spare! Hoo Boy! Very nice.



2. Microsoft Office Support

GreenTuna Rating: MPF

With the good comes the bad. With new hardware comes the unpleasant news that Microsoft Office just didn't want to be authentic and legal, even though it is. IT IS, I TELL YOU. As I had the pleasure to speak to a multitude of outsourced geeks whose favorite game seemed to be "let's give the exact opposite directions from the last tech support guy and then we can go ride elephants all afternoon" I contemplated heinous acts accompanied by a slightly demented "It's a Small World Afterall" soundtrack. Dear Bill Gates: I am not brimming with confidence as they read the 457 alpha-numeric code for my product, saying, "D as in David. Wee as in Wictor...."



3. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Pre-Parade Broadway Extravaganza

GreenTuna Rating: Draw

So the whole first part of the parade is ... not parade. It's an hour-long advertisement for Broadway shows. This year we learned through offerings like a musical built around Elvis tunes, Broadway continues its free-fall to mediocrity. Biggest surprise would be a singing and tap-dancing Brooke Shields, who is currently starring in the revival of Leonard Bernstein's "Wonderful Town." Still in all, the offering was better than the Podunk Marching Band playing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."



4. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

GreenTuna Rating: Pumpkin Pie with Snarking on Top



The Monday Night Football Cheerleaders with Joe Namath.


Fully clothed, FCC-approved, not a cleavage was stirring, and Namath was no souse.



The Statue of Liberty Float

Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. I saw this thing at the end of Planet of the Apes. Where was Charleton Heston and his horse?



Uncle! Uncle!

Did anybody think it might be odd, humorous or a tad bit insensitive to have the Uncle Sam balloon immediately followed by a Monopoly Uncle Moneybags balloon?



Milli Vanilli -- on in two

Of course there was lip synching aplenty during the parade. Some seemed less than comfortable with the prospect, while others were more than happy to go with the flow. I think all those Olympic Athletes who stood on the float with (American Idol's) Fantasia could have at least pretended to be a gospel choir. Although Nancy Kerrigan wasn't there to say, "I hate this. This is stupid," I bet everybody else was thinking it anyway.



5. SHOPPING!

GreenTuna Rating: Zzzzzzzzzzzz

No way, Jose. Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse.



5a. SHOPPING WITH WAKEUP CALLS!

GreenTuna Rating: !*^#$%!!@# MPF

This is a sign of true desperation. Target aired commercials on Thursday touting a wake-up call service on Friday morning. Go online. Input the information, and voila! Wake-up calls. No kidding. What's next? Large busses coming by to drag you to the store?



5b. SHOPPING WITH WAKEUP CALLS!

When I finished picking my mouth up off the floor, and then laughing hysterically, I relayed my incredulousness over this consumer "innovation" to GramTuna. Her response? I wonder whose names we could put down??

GreenTuna Rating Revision: PUMPKIN PIE, BABY!



6. Turkey Dinner with the Family

GreenTuna Rating: PUMPKIN PIE

Dogs: 2





Petey, the new dog.



Cats: 2

Bunnies - Adult: 6

Bunnies - Baby: 6

Tuna Clan: 11



Turkey, Stuffing, Mashed Potatoes, Sun-Dried Tomato Dip, Butternut Squash Soup with Apple-Cider Cream, Brussel Sprouts, Sweet Potatoes, Corn, Noodles, Baked Beets Cajun Style, Green Jello (oh yeah), Red Cranberry Jello with twigs and acorns (not so much), cranberry sauce perfectly shaped like the cans from which they emerged (served late because we forgot, but hey, there was still room), Two Pumpkin Pies (pah!) with Whip Cream, and one nasty Mince Pie : complete with face.





The. Face.



7. Turkey Dinner with all that PLUS a newest Tuna on the Way

Priceless. Congrats to BabyBrother Tuna and IzuTuna!



Oh, and he doesn't like Mince Pie, either.

Table Scraps

Merry Christmas to all and to all.....no wait. Not yet.

The mashed potatoes and stuffing may be gone, but it's time to talk turkey. How was my big holiday weekend? Well most of it was just faboo Pumpkin Pie, although into each life a little MPF must fall. Here's the weekend tally:

1. Broadband, baby
GreenTuna Rating: Pumpkin Pie
Heaven. I'm in heaven. Why didn't I do this earlier? Bessie is screaming fast. 15-Meg download? Sure, I have ... 45 seconds to spare! Hoo Boy! Very nice.

2. Microsoft Office Support
GreenTuna Rating: MPF
With the good comes the bad. With new hardware comes the unpleasant news that Microsoft Office just didn't want to be authentic and legal, even though it is. IT IS, I TELL YOU. As I had the pleasure to speak to a multitude of outsourced geeks whose favorite game seemed to be "let's give the exact opposite directions from the last tech support guy and then we can go ride elephants all afternoon" I contemplated heinous acts accompanied by a slightly demented "It's a Small World Afterall" soundtrack. Dear Bill Gates: I am not brimming with confidence as they read the 457 alpha-numeric code for my product, saying, "D as in David. Wee as in Wictor...."

3. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Pre-Parade Broadway Extravaganza
GreenTuna Rating: Draw
So the whole first part of the parade is ... not parade. It's an hour-long advertisement for Broadway shows. This year we learned through offerings like a musical built around Elvis tunes, Broadway continues its free-fall to mediocrity. Biggest surprise would be a singing and tap-dancing Brooke Shields, who is currently starring in the revival of Leonard Bernstein's "Wonderful Town." Still in all, the offering was better than the Podunk Marching Band playing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."

4. Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
GreenTuna Rating: Pumpkin Pie with Snarking on Top

The Monday Night Football Cheerleaders with Joe Namath.

Fully clothed, FCC-approved, not a cleavage was stirring, and Namath was no souse.

The Statue of Liberty Float
Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. I saw this thing at the end of Planet of the Apes. Where was Charleton Heston and his horse?

Uncle! Uncle!
Did anybody think it might be odd, humorous or a tad bit insensitive to have the Uncle Sam balloon immediately followed by a Monopoly Uncle Moneybags balloon?

Milli Vanilli -- on in two
Of course there was lip synching aplenty during the parade. Some seemed less than comfortable with the prospect, while others were more than happy to go with the flow. I think all those Olympic Athletes who stood on the float with (American Idol's) Fantasia could have at least pretended to be a gospel choir. Although Nancy Kerrigan wasn't there to say, "I hate this. This is stupid," I bet everybody else was thinking it anyway.

5. SHOPPING!
GreenTuna Rating: Zzzzzzzzzzzz
No way, Jose. Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse.

5a. SHOPPING WITH WAKEUP CALLS!
GreenTuna Rating: !*^#$%!!@# MPF
This is a sign of true desperation. Target aired commercials on Thursday touting a wake-up call service on Friday morning. Go online. Input the information, and voila! Wake-up calls. No kidding. What's next? Large busses coming by to drag you to the store?

5b. SHOPPING WITH WAKEUP CALLS!
When I finished picking my mouth up off the floor, and then laughing hysterically, I relayed my incredulousness over this consumer "innovation" to GramTuna. Her response? I wonder whose names we could put down??
GreenTuna Rating Revision: PUMPKIN PIE, BABY!

6. Turkey Dinner with the Family
GreenTuna Rating: PUMPKIN PIE
Dogs: 2


Petey, the new dog.

Cats: 2
Bunnies - Adult: 6
Bunnies - Baby: 6
Tuna Clan: 11

Turkey, Stuffing, Mashed Potatoes, Sun-Dried Tomato Dip, Butternut Squash Soup with Apple-Cider Cream, Brussel Sprouts, Sweet Potatoes, Corn, Noodles, Baked Beets Cajun Style, Green Jello (oh yeah), Red Cranberry Jello with twigs and acorns (not so much), cranberry sauce perfectly shaped like the cans from which they emerged (served late because we forgot, but hey, there was still room), Two Pumpkin Pies (pah!) with Whip Cream, and one nasty Mince Pie : complete with face.


The. Face.

7. Turkey Dinner with all that PLUS a newest Tuna on the Way
Priceless. Congrats to BabyBrother Tuna and IzuTuna!

Oh, and he doesn't like Mince Pie, either.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Tis the Season for CAPS LOCK WARNINGS

My inbox has been overflowing of late with lots and lots of emails from my favorite CAPS LOCK warning source, EmergencyEmail.Org. Since we all know the importance of being prepared and having socks that match the hysterical color code du jour, I feel duty-bound to pass along this dire CAPS LOCK-worthy message from my Chicken-Little friends:



THE FIRST SNOWSTORM OF THE SEASON IS ON THE WAY



Remember, I live in the Mitten, a state located slightly south of THE NORTH POLE, where snow is NORMAL and not at all UNEXPECTED, particularly in LATE NOVEMBER. In light of that, let me be the very first to say



*yawn*



I guess I'll go find some socks.

Tis the Season for CAPS LOCK WARNINGS

My inbox has been overflowing of late with lots and lots of emails from my favorite CAPS LOCK warning source, EmergencyEmail.Org. Since we all know the importance of being prepared and having socks that match the hysterical color code du jour, I feel duty-bound to pass along this dire CAPS LOCK-worthy message from my Chicken-Little friends:

THE FIRST SNOWSTORM OF THE SEASON IS ON THE WAY

Remember, I live in the Mitten, a state located slightly south of THE NORTH POLE, where snow is NORMAL and not at all UNEXPECTED, particularly in LATE NOVEMBER. In light of that, let me be the very first to say

*yawn*

I guess I'll go find some socks.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Glug Glug Glug

In an effort to think positively and not get sick, I am downing water faster than the Titanic. I'm currently on ounce sixty-eight, which means I'll float away shortly, while having wonderfully hydrated skin. I drink it as hot as possible, adding a bit of lemon at the end to cut the throat crud. Add to that the 47 Hall's Fruit Breezers I've had today, and you'll understand why I don't care if any of the rest of my students show up or not.



This is the part about being a singer that stinks.

Glug Glug Glug

In an effort to think positively and not get sick, I am downing water faster than the Titanic. I'm currently on ounce sixty-eight, which means I'll float away shortly, while having wonderfully hydrated skin. I drink it as hot as possible, adding a bit of lemon at the end to cut the throat crud. Add to that the 47 Hall's Fruit Breezers I've had today, and you'll understand why I don't care if any of the rest of my students show up or not.

This is the part about being a singer that stinks.

Monday, November 22, 2004

Customer Support

Oh how I love online customer support.....

............................................................................

............................................................................

............................................................................



guest > waiting waiting waiting...

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate > Hello. Thank you for choosing Corporate Cable Pirates. My name is blah blah blah .... And I will be processing your order. It will take me just a few minutes to pull up your account in our system. I will let you know if I have any questions.

...

...

guest > let me know when you're ready

...

...

guest > btw -- not question but comment. This is the 2nd time I sent through this service request, but it hung up on Mozilla's Firefox, FYI

guest > so I only want all this once, not twice.

guest > *waits*

Corporate Cable Pirate > ok I'll make sure

guest > thanks

...

...

guest > *yawns*

Corporate Cable Pirate> sorry I'm putting in your order, it'll just be a couple of minutes

guest > it's ok.

guest > it's lunchtime!

Corporate Cable Pirate > mmmmmm, I'm hungry

...

...

guest > *sniffs*

...

...

guest > so, How about those Pistons?

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > hey that fight should have been on pay-per-view

guest
> HA. No kidding.


guest > Poor Indiana (except not). Lost half their team

...

...

guest > *chews off arm*

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > hey I gotta be here 10 hours, I feel for ya

guest
> yeah, but you probably get to do your job in your boxers

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > yeah it's pretty sweet

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy> ok I'll give you the details

guest
> ok. details


...

...

guest > details. Gimme the details.

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > Your internet service is scheduled for .... blah blah blah ... Your work order number is ... blah blah blah ... An adult at least 18 must be present at the time of installation and any pets should be restrained please

guest > what about dust bunnies?

guest > or, dust elephants?

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > we'll be on guard for you.

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > anything else I can help you with today?

guest > ok. and they will install an outlet in the room?

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > do you need an extra outlet ?

guest > yes. I put it in the special notes

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > outlet is $16

guest > doh

guest > ok

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll go ahead and add that for you

guest > I'm tired of running a cable 75 feet from my basement

guest > wee bit inconvenient

...

...

guest > *yawns*

...

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > sorry, you're a trooper.

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you're all set , any other questions at all ?

guest > Can I borrow some lunch money?

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > only if you share

guest > sure. But you have to wear pants

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > lol

guest > and make sure my Wednesday service guy is cute

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > ok avert your eyes

guest > sort of defeats the purpose

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll make a special trip

guest > deal. Is it a long way from India?

guest > Because I know your real name is Hadji or something.

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'm in Arizona

guest > Maybe you're just vacationing in Arizona from India.

guest > or it's a teambuilding exercise.

...

...

guest > Arizona is nice.

guest > And just remember, it's DRY heat

guest > or. so. they. say.

...

...

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you're pretty entertaining

guest
> I'm your best chat today. Right? Right?


guest > say it.

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you are the best

guest > awesome!

guest > Well, Time for Wapner.

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > thanks mate

guest > thanks loads Corporate Cable Pirate Guy.

guest > You're the pips

guest > Can I go to lunch now?

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > if you really must

guest
> Wave hi to the desert for me.


guest > Hasta!

Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll kiss a jumping cholla for you.

Customer Support

Oh how I love online customer support.....
............................................................................
............................................................................
............................................................................

guest > waiting waiting waiting...
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate > Hello. Thank you for choosing Corporate Cable Pirates. My name is blah blah blah .... And I will be processing your order. It will take me just a few minutes to pull up your account in our system. I will let you know if I have any questions.
...
...
guest > let me know when you're ready
...
...
guest > btw -- not question but comment. This is the 2nd time I sent through this service request, but it hung up on Mozilla's Firefox, FYI
guest > so I only want all this once, not twice.
guest > *waits*
Corporate Cable Pirate > ok I'll make sure
guest > thanks
...
...
guest > *yawns*
Corporate Cable Pirate> sorry I'm putting in your order, it'll just be a couple of minutes
guest > it's ok.
guest > it's lunchtime!
Corporate Cable Pirate > mmmmmm, I'm hungry
...
...
guest > *sniffs*
...
...
guest > so, How about those Pistons?
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > hey that fight should have been on pay-per-view
guest
> HA. No kidding.

guest > Poor Indiana (except not). Lost half their team
...
...
guest > *chews off arm*
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > hey I gotta be here 10 hours, I feel for ya
guest
> yeah, but you probably get to do your job in your boxers
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > yeah it's pretty sweet
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy> ok I'll give you the details
guest
> ok. details

...
...
guest > details. Gimme the details.
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > Your internet service is scheduled for .... blah blah blah ... Your work order number is ... blah blah blah ... An adult at least 18 must be present at the time of installation and any pets should be restrained please
guest > what about dust bunnies?
guest > or, dust elephants?
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > we'll be on guard for you.
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > anything else I can help you with today?
guest > ok. and they will install an outlet in the room?
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > do you need an extra outlet ?
guest > yes. I put it in the special notes
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > outlet is $16
guest > doh
guest > ok
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll go ahead and add that for you
guest > I'm tired of running a cable 75 feet from my basement
guest > wee bit inconvenient
...
...
guest > *yawns*
...
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > sorry, you're a trooper.
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you're all set , any other questions at all ?
guest > Can I borrow some lunch money?
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > only if you share
guest > sure. But you have to wear pants
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > lol
guest > and make sure my Wednesday service guy is cute
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > ok avert your eyes
guest > sort of defeats the purpose
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll make a special trip
guest > deal. Is it a long way from India?
guest > Because I know your real name is Hadji or something.
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'm in Arizona
guest > Maybe you're just vacationing in Arizona from India.
guest > or it's a teambuilding exercise.
...
...
guest > Arizona is nice.
guest > And just remember, it's DRY heat
guest > or. so. they. say.
...
...
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you're pretty entertaining
guest
> I'm your best chat today. Right? Right?

guest > say it.
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > you are the best
guest > awesome!
guest > Well, Time for Wapner.
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > thanks mate
guest > thanks loads Corporate Cable Pirate Guy.
guest > You're the pips
guest > Can I go to lunch now?
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > if you really must
guest
> Wave hi to the desert for me.

guest > Hasta!
Corporate Cable Pirate Guy > I'll kiss a jumping cholla for you.

Our Lady of Lego

My problem is, I never know whether I should be impressed with somebody's skill and patience, grateful that some nutball isn't on the street, or mindful of that old saying, "There is a fine line between hobby and obsession." Still in all, I suppose even small pre-formed plastic people need a higher being.













Our Lady of Lego

My problem is, I never know whether I should be impressed with somebody's skill and patience, grateful that some nutball isn't on the street, or mindful of that old saying, "There is a fine line between hobby and obsession." Still in all, I suppose even small pre-formed plastic people need a higher being.






Friday, November 19, 2004

Superman

I was hobnobbing over at Defective Yeti the other day and ran across this post about the newest Pixar film, The Incredibles.



Editorial Comment #1

This post is not about the Incredibles, because I haven't seen it yet. TinyTuna has, but I have sworn her to silence and secrecy upon the pain of not being able to view
Spongebob Quadrilateralpants with any adult who is a bigger sucker than I am.



Two things from that post struck me as interesting. The first was learning that "The Incredibles" was adapted and directed by Brad Bird, who also wrote and directed the animated film, The Iron Giant back in 1999. The second was reading all the comments -- not so much about The Incredibles -- but about the passion for the film Iron Giant.



Editorial Comment #2

If it is possible to spoil a five-year old movie, then be warned: This post contains spoilers. But honestly, you should rent the movie anyway, because it's just. that. good.




Iron Giant seemed to be one of those quiet animated films that didn't necessarily do blockbuster box office business, but amassed a dedicated following. Based on the book The Iron Man by British Poet-Laureate Ted Hughes, it tells the story of an enormous alien robot who finds himself in America during the height of the Cold War in the 1950s.



Not just another science-fiction fantasy, this story explores the child-like relationship between the Giant and a young boy, Hogarth, who finds the giant and tries to take care of him and teach him about living in the world. But keeping an enormous robot a secret proves to be an impossible task, and when the Government discovers its existance, fear takes over and they attempt to destroy it. The Giant -- designed for war -- does what he was programmed to do: defend himself. As the violence escalates to a potentially catastrophic conclusion for humans and robots alike, Hogarth convinces the Giant he can be something more than what he is:



"You don't have to be a gun," he says. "You can be anything you choose to be."



Director Brad Bird said
My version is based around a question I asked the execs at Warner Bros.-what if a gun had a soul and chose not to be a gun?
Such big thoughts from a cartoon:

You can be anything you choose to be.



The Iron Giant chose NOT to be a gun.

He chose to be Superman.




Every day we are faced with choices, and oftentimes we make decisions based on conditioning. We do what we're supposed to do. What we are taught to do. What we are conditioned to do. There is no real thought behind it. There is no soul.



But what if we chose a different path, and opted to lead the life we felt deep down we were meant to lead? What if you chose to take a different path, even if it were unknown, unexpected and unfamiliar to those around you? What if you chose to break free from assumptions and expectations of who you are and what others expect you to be?



You can be anything you choose to be.

Even Superman.

Superman

I was hobnobbing over at Defective Yeti the other day and ran across this post about the newest Pixar film, The Incredibles.

Editorial Comment #1
This post is not about the Incredibles, because I haven't seen it yet. TinyTuna has, but I have sworn her to silence and secrecy upon the pain of not being able to view
Spongebob Quadrilateralpants with any adult who is a bigger sucker than I am.

Two things from that post struck me as interesting. The first was learning that "The Incredibles" was adapted and directed by Brad Bird, who also wrote and directed the animated film, The Iron Giant back in 1999. The second was reading all the comments -- not so much about The Incredibles -- but about the passion for the film Iron Giant.

Editorial Comment #2
If it is possible to spoil a five-year old movie, then be warned: This post contains spoilers. But honestly, you should rent the movie anyway, because it's just. that. good.


Iron Giant seemed to be one of those quiet animated films that didn't necessarily do blockbuster box office business, but amassed a dedicated following. Based on the book The Iron Man by British Poet-Laureate Ted Hughes, it tells the story of an enormous alien robot who finds himself in America during the height of the Cold War in the 1950s.

Not just another science-fiction fantasy, this story explores the child-like relationship between the Giant and a young boy, Hogarth, who finds the giant and tries to take care of him and teach him about living in the world. But keeping an enormous robot a secret proves to be an impossible task, and when the Government discovers its existance, fear takes over and they attempt to destroy it. The Giant -- designed for war -- does what he was programmed to do: defend himself. As the violence escalates to a potentially catastrophic conclusion for humans and robots alike, Hogarth convinces the Giant he can be something more than what he is:

"You don't have to be a gun," he says. "You can be anything you choose to be."

Director Brad Bird said
My version is based around a question I asked the execs at Warner Bros.-what if a gun had a soul and chose not to be a gun?
Such big thoughts from a cartoon:
You can be anything you choose to be.

The Iron Giant chose NOT to be a gun.
He chose to be Superman.


Every day we are faced with choices, and oftentimes we make decisions based on conditioning. We do what we're supposed to do. What we are taught to do. What we are conditioned to do. There is no real thought behind it. There is no soul.

But what if we chose a different path, and opted to lead the life we felt deep down we were meant to lead? What if you chose to take a different path, even if it were unknown, unexpected and unfamiliar to those around you? What if you chose to break free from assumptions and expectations of who you are and what others expect you to be?

You can be anything you choose to be.
Even Superman.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Window on the World

I work on the fourth floor and am fortunate enough not only to have an office with real walls and a real door (covered with ancient TinyTuna art, in case you wondered), but also a real live functioning window. Said window actually opens and closes without benefit of special tools, illegal tools, or the cast of Mission Impossible. That being said, I am not supposed to open my window EVER because it ruins the heating/cooling/ventilation system for the entire building, throws off the rotation of the sun, and makes The Baby Jesus cry.



Ergo, the very first thing I do each morning is open my window.



Because I work in the building of incredible stuffiness.

And because I can.



Despite the usual hustle and bustle of the day, the window provides a great deal of amusement. Sometimes the local hawk lands in a tree near our building, and we take time to listen to the crows going absolutely apeshit over the invasion of their space and watch the freaked-out students taking a wiiiiiiide berth as they enter the library. Good Times.



Other times, when I am so busy WORKING all I can manage is to keep an ear out for my next favorite activity: Screech and crash. The library is located on a one-way, two-lane curvy, circular road. Across the street and up the road a smidgen is the TunaU Museum, otherwise known as Our Lady of Perpetual Field Trips. So far today (wet roads and all) we have had no less than three enormous screeches -- as some idiot either tries to turn left out of the right hand lane, or some other idiot tries to jump both lanes of traffic from the library parking lot to the museum parking lot -- but as of yet, no crashes. Despite the fact that they are only fender-benders, each and every Scrreeeeeeeech...CRASH is good for a few "UH-OHs" and several minutes of snicker from the fourth-floor peanut gallery.



Yes, I am the Queen of Schadenfreude.

Window on the World

I work on the fourth floor and am fortunate enough not only to have an office with real walls and a real door (covered with ancient TinyTuna art, in case you wondered), but also a real live functioning window. Said window actually opens and closes without benefit of special tools, illegal tools, or the cast of Mission Impossible. That being said, I am not supposed to open my window EVER because it ruins the heating/cooling/ventilation system for the entire building, throws off the rotation of the sun, and makes The Baby Jesus cry.

Ergo, the very first thing I do each morning is open my window.

Because I work in the building of incredible stuffiness.
And because I can.

Despite the usual hustle and bustle of the day, the window provides a great deal of amusement. Sometimes the local hawk lands in a tree near our building, and we take time to listen to the crows going absolutely apeshit over the invasion of their space and watch the freaked-out students taking a wiiiiiiide berth as they enter the library. Good Times.

Other times, when I am so busy WORKING all I can manage is to keep an ear out for my next favorite activity: Screech and crash. The library is located on a one-way, two-lane curvy, circular road. Across the street and up the road a smidgen is the TunaU Museum, otherwise known as Our Lady of Perpetual Field Trips. So far today (wet roads and all) we have had no less than three enormous screeches -- as some idiot either tries to turn left out of the right hand lane, or some other idiot tries to jump both lanes of traffic from the library parking lot to the museum parking lot -- but as of yet, no crashes. Despite the fact that they are only fender-benders, each and every Scrreeeeeeeech...CRASH is good for a few "UH-OHs" and several minutes of snicker from the fourth-floor peanut gallery.

Yes, I am the Queen of Schadenfreude.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

White Noise

I know everyone has to deal with a certain amount of general office noise from coworkers, telephones, bathrooms, etc. When your (read: my) office is in a music building, you are constantly assaulted by whatever is happening in all the studios around you. This morning I'm getting lip exercises from the trombone player down the hall, and if the pianist next to me doesn't figure out the THREE FREAKING CHORDS it takes to play "Closer to Fine" I am going to bust down their door and break all their fingers.



Yes, a pianist practing next to me is better than a bagpiper.

But sometimes, not by much.



I may be forced to challenge them with my extra EXTRA loud version of CHOPPIN' BROCCOLI.

I'm channeling my inner Dana Carvey now.

White Noise

I know everyone has to deal with a certain amount of general office noise from coworkers, telephones, bathrooms, etc. When your (read: my) office is in a music building, you are constantly assaulted by whatever is happening in all the studios around you. This morning I'm getting lip exercises from the trombone player down the hall, and if the pianist next to me doesn't figure out the THREE FREAKING CHORDS it takes to play "Closer to Fine" I am going to bust down their door and break all their fingers.

Yes, a pianist practing next to me is better than a bagpiper.
But sometimes, not by much.

I may be forced to challenge them with my extra EXTRA loud version of CHOPPIN' BROCCOLI.
I'm channeling my inner Dana Carvey now.

Monday, November 15, 2004

Hot Dam

THIS sent to me by an eager-beaver reader, whose job it is to keep the Mitten free from similar buck-toothed criminals. All I can say is the authorities were damn lucky to find it. Or dam lucky. Damn Dam.



insert your own punchline here...

Hot Dam

THIS sent to me by an eager-beaver reader, whose job it is to keep the Mitten free from similar buck-toothed criminals. All I can say is the authorities were damn lucky to find it. Or dam lucky. Damn Dam.

insert your own punchline here...

An Open Letter

Dear Man of the Well-Tailored Cloth,



Thank you so much for your phone call to TinyTuna. I was quite moved as I heard your impassioned message giving thanks that she had chosen your local IHoP (Interdenominational House of Prayer) as a place of worship, albeit it as a visitor. I know you were greatly concerned that you hadn't phoned sooner, but to be honest, she has been so consumed with Nancy Drew, Polygons, four-square and Scooby-Doo, she never felt slighted. As it is the season of forgiveness, I say let bygones be bygones. Praise God!



Thank you for your invitation to have TinyTuna come in for an informational chat. I'm sure she'd love to discuss the redemptive qualities of Krispy Kremes vs. Doughnut Holes, a 52-week Sunday School session that obliterates any obligation to sit through an entire church service, and finding your inner Holy Ghost in a bottle of silver glitter glue. I should warn you, however, that the last time she had a meeting with a Local Man of the Cloth, she didn't exactly follow his logic of Communion and Pilgrims, and when asked about the bread and the wine, she told him quite bluntly that she didn't want to talk about that; she wanted to talk about "the big window in the back."



I'm guessing that you were unable to discern from her Denelian-flavored visitor's card that you were not phoning an adult, but a ten year old child, who happens to be related to me. Have you forgotten that GramTuna and I bring our dog and pony show to your Tuna-flavored IHoP several times a year? We aren't exactly strangers, you know.



I should also be up front with the fact that when she was warming your pews, TinyTuna wasn't particularly happy. She was incarcerated in your House of God while attending the memorial recital last Sunday evening and spent the entire evening in a Satanic Snit that began at dinner and continued into the middle of the following week. While she angrily sighed, flopped, pouted, grumbled and made THAT FACE THAT I HATE, she was desperately searching for an outlet. I'm guessing the visitor's card was the first thing she found. I'm grateful you didn't find her second opus: a half-sheet of paper upon which she which graphically illustrated the caption: "I feel like a dead flower."



The crosses we must bear.



In conclusion, I feel it only right that I decline your invitation for a one-on-one with TinyTuna. Your spirit may be willing, but mine is weak. Besides, as a firm believer in the Power of Paycheck, I'm sure we'll be back again. Although I know your IHoP doesn't do pancakes, might I suggest in the meantime you might recite a litany to St. Long John? Hopefully next time she'll be in a better mood.



May the angels rejoice with cream filling and chocolate frosting,

Glory, Hallelujah!

Amen.

An Open Letter

Dear Man of the Well-Tailored Cloth,

Thank you so much for your phone call to TinyTuna. I was quite moved as I heard your impassioned message giving thanks that she had chosen your local IHoP (Interdenominational House of Prayer) as a place of worship, albeit it as a visitor. I know you were greatly concerned that you hadn't phoned sooner, but to be honest, she has been so consumed with Nancy Drew, Polygons, four-square and Scooby-Doo, she never felt slighted. As it is the season of forgiveness, I say let bygones be bygones. Praise God!

Thank you for your invitation to have TinyTuna come in for an informational chat. I'm sure she'd love to discuss the redemptive qualities of Krispy Kremes vs. Doughnut Holes, a 52-week Sunday School session that obliterates any obligation to sit through an entire church service, and finding your inner Holy Ghost in a bottle of silver glitter glue. I should warn you, however, that the last time she had a meeting with a Local Man of the Cloth, she didn't exactly follow his logic of Communion and Pilgrims, and when asked about the bread and the wine, she told him quite bluntly that she didn't want to talk about that; she wanted to talk about "the big window in the back."

I'm guessing that you were unable to discern from her Denelian-flavored visitor's card that you were not phoning an adult, but a ten year old child, who happens to be related to me. Have you forgotten that GramTuna and I bring our dog and pony show to your Tuna-flavored IHoP several times a year? We aren't exactly strangers, you know.

I should also be up front with the fact that when she was warming your pews, TinyTuna wasn't particularly happy. She was incarcerated in your House of God while attending the memorial recital last Sunday evening and spent the entire evening in a Satanic Snit that began at dinner and continued into the middle of the following week. While she angrily sighed, flopped, pouted, grumbled and made THAT FACE THAT I HATE, she was desperately searching for an outlet. I'm guessing the visitor's card was the first thing she found. I'm grateful you didn't find her second opus: a half-sheet of paper upon which she which graphically illustrated the caption: "I feel like a dead flower."

The crosses we must bear.

In conclusion, I feel it only right that I decline your invitation for a one-on-one with TinyTuna. Your spirit may be willing, but mine is weak. Besides, as a firm believer in the Power of Paycheck, I'm sure we'll be back again. Although I know your IHoP doesn't do pancakes, might I suggest in the meantime you might recite a litany to St. Long John? Hopefully next time she'll be in a better mood.

May the angels rejoice with cream filling and chocolate frosting,
Glory, Hallelujah!
Amen.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Crafting Horrors

A favorite Friday afternoon only-an-hour-to-go-at-work activity is to scan Hoffmandis for new cross stitch patterns. Today's winner is entitled



Pushing Up Daisies







What morbid serial killer thought up this treasure? Look! I see Squeaky and Tweety and Rover and Goldy and Fluffy and Boxy and Fabio -- all artistically laying upside-down in their little pet cemetary while a cheerful daisy alphabet grows and butterflies taunt them from the land of the living.



I'll be hanging this one right next to my homage to Lizzie Borden.





Crafting Horrors

A favorite Friday afternoon only-an-hour-to-go-at-work activity is to scan Hoffmandis for new cross stitch patterns. Today's winner is entitled

Pushing Up Daisies



What morbid serial killer thought up this treasure? Look! I see Squeaky and Tweety and Rover and Goldy and Fluffy and Boxy and Fabio -- all artistically laying upside-down in their little pet cemetary while a cheerful daisy alphabet grows and butterflies taunt them from the land of the living.

I'll be hanging this one right next to my homage to Lizzie Borden.


The Parting of the Red C

You thought I was done.

If you thought the candy issue was bad,



THIS IS WORSE



If you have children, it is best that they leave this room, because

this post contains RED.



If you are asking, "So what?" then I guess you didn't know.



Red is scary.

Red hurts children's self esteem.

RED IS OUT.




And to save us from our national nightmare



Purple is in.

Purple is the new red.

Purple is friendly.

Purple is the academic Compassionate-Conservative



According to Color Psychologists (Color Psychologists!!!)



Purple -- a mixture of



RED (authoritative and SCARY!!)


and

Blue (serene)



-- is less negative yet still constructive for grading student papers. Purple is attention-getting without being overly aggressive.
And ... AND ... (this is good) ...

...because Purple is linked to creativity and royalty, it is more encouraging to students.
I have one question:

What if you Royally Sucked?

Then What do you Do?



Excuse me while my head explodes.



I must be SuperTuna, because I somehow managed to survive elementary school, middle school, high school, college, and graduate school with the evil academic RED pen of damaging psyches.



What's next? Officer, I didn't stop for that light back there because it made me feel bad. It was.....It was....RED.



Seriously, a color that hurts your feelings is an excuse that I might expect out of the mouth of an extremely desperate TinyTuna. And you know what I'd tell her?



It's a color. Get Over It.



What is it with schools? KIDS DO NOT NEED A KUM-BAH-YAH CHORUS. Learning requires instruction, guidance, correction and praise -- in equal amounts. Self-esteem doesn't come from colored pens, candy or any other pseudo-educational gimmicks. Instead of making RED the scapegoat, teach kids that making mistakes is a normal and acceptable part of the learning process.



Caving to the UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS OF RED sets a dangerous precedence. Look out letters B, C, D and F -- you're probably the next to go. We don't want the little darlings to feel badly now, do we?

The Parting of the Red C

You thought I was done.
If you thought the candy issue was bad,

THIS IS WORSE

If you have children, it is best that they leave this room, because
this post contains RED.

If you are asking, "So what?" then I guess you didn't know.

Red is scary.
Red hurts children's self esteem.
RED IS OUT.


And to save us from our national nightmare

Purple is in.
Purple is the new red.
Purple is friendly.
Purple is the academic Compassionate-Conservative

According to Color Psychologists (Color Psychologists!!!)

Purple -- a mixture of

RED (authoritative and SCARY!!)

and
Blue (serene)

-- is less negative yet still constructive for grading student papers. Purple is attention-getting without being overly aggressive.
And ... AND ... (this is good) ...
...because Purple is linked to creativity and royalty, it is more encouraging to students.
I have one question:
What if you Royally Sucked?
Then What do you Do?

Excuse me while my head explodes.

I must be SuperTuna, because I somehow managed to survive elementary school, middle school, high school, college, and graduate school with the evil academic RED pen of damaging psyches.

What's next? Officer, I didn't stop for that light back there because it made me feel bad. It was.....It was....RED.

Seriously, a color that hurts your feelings is an excuse that I might expect out of the mouth of an extremely desperate TinyTuna. And you know what I'd tell her?

It's a color. Get Over It.

What is it with schools? KIDS DO NOT NEED A KUM-BAH-YAH CHORUS. Learning requires instruction, guidance, correction and praise -- in equal amounts. Self-esteem doesn't come from colored pens, candy or any other pseudo-educational gimmicks. Instead of making RED the scapegoat, teach kids that making mistakes is a normal and acceptable part of the learning process.

Caving to the UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS OF RED sets a dangerous precedence. Look out letters B, C, D and F -- you're probably the next to go. We don't want the little darlings to feel badly now, do we?

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Out of the Closet

Hot on the heels of "cute" and wardrobe, I offer you this cautionary tale.

Let they who are without Polyester cast the first stone.



Oh, the stories my cedar chest could tell.



With thanks to John Scalzi over at By The Way...

Out of the Closet

Hot on the heels of "cute" and wardrobe, I offer you this cautionary tale.
Let they who are without Polyester cast the first stone.

Oh, the stories my cedar chest could tell.

With thanks to John Scalzi over at By The Way...

Sugar Daddy

Get ready.



Arkansas teachers have been told they can continue to reward students with candy, despite a state battle against childhood obesity in schools.



Ever since TinyTuna has been in Kindergarten, I have been battling the public school candy monster. They gave out candy for everything: as an incentive, as a tool for learning, or as a reward. Partly cloudy? Milky Ways a-plenty!



So I complained. And complained. And complained some more.



Their argument: School should be fun.



They counted with candy -- and then ate it. They did addition with candy -- and then ate it. They did science with candy -- and then ate it. They formed geometric shapes with candy -- and then ate it. Heck, they probably found a way to conjugate verbs with candy -- before they ate it.



My argument: Learning is fun and it has nothing to do with candy.



Obviously, since I have battled these sugar-coated windmills for many years now, you can see precisely how far my argument has gotten me.



This entire concept of "fun" has always driven me crazy. When did it become so all-fire important to entertain children 24/7? I've always told TinyTuna that school is her "job". I have a job that I go to every day. Her job is school, and her job is to listen and learn and do her very best. I'm not saying that school needs to be drudgery or a punishment, but let's face it: school is a privilege and learning is a responsibility, plain and simple. I firmly believe if you posses a love of teaching and a love of learning and a love of your students, it WILL be fun.



I've tried approaching this from a nutrition standpoint. I'm certain that TinyTuna isn't the only child who will do two things upon consuming massive amounts sugar: Spike and crash. Either one is unpleasant and both together is torture. So, as a parent (and in self-defense), I will go out of my way to avoid the spike and crash. This means that in my house, candy is strictly limited, and can only be consumed in very small amounts and never on an empty stomach. If I'm smart enough to figure this out, I would think it would be a no-brainer for a teacher who deals with a classroom of children on a daily basis.



And if you don't care about the sugar highs and lows, consider the obesity problem in children as well as the alarming increase of children suffering from diabetes. How hypocritical is it to yank juice machines with one hand while you fill your classroom candy jar with the other?



Sure, it's easy to reward with candy. And the kids will love it. And love you. But when they start bouncing off the walls, or stop participating because they are sleepy and can no longer focus, don't complain to me. One of the most important things kids need to learn is that the satisfaction of a job will done comes from within, and not from a fistful of Jolly Ranchers.

Sugar Daddy

Get ready.

Arkansas teachers have been told they can continue to reward students with candy, despite a state battle against childhood obesity in schools.

Ever since TinyTuna has been in Kindergarten, I have been battling the public school candy monster. They gave out candy for everything: as an incentive, as a tool for learning, or as a reward. Partly cloudy? Milky Ways a-plenty!

So I complained. And complained. And complained some more.

Their argument: School should be fun.

They counted with candy -- and then ate it. They did addition with candy -- and then ate it. They did science with candy -- and then ate it. They formed geometric shapes with candy -- and then ate it. Heck, they probably found a way to conjugate verbs with candy -- before they ate it.

My argument: Learning is fun and it has nothing to do with candy.

Obviously, since I have battled these sugar-coated windmills for many years now, you can see precisely how far my argument has gotten me.

This entire concept of "fun" has always driven me crazy. When did it become so all-fire important to entertain children 24/7? I've always told TinyTuna that school is her "job". I have a job that I go to every day. Her job is school, and her job is to listen and learn and do her very best. I'm not saying that school needs to be drudgery or a punishment, but let's face it: school is a privilege and learning is a responsibility, plain and simple. I firmly believe if you posses a love of teaching and a love of learning and a love of your students, it WILL be fun.

I've tried approaching this from a nutrition standpoint. I'm certain that TinyTuna isn't the only child who will do two things upon consuming massive amounts sugar: Spike and crash. Either one is unpleasant and both together is torture. So, as a parent (and in self-defense), I will go out of my way to avoid the spike and crash. This means that in my house, candy is strictly limited, and can only be consumed in very small amounts and never on an empty stomach. If I'm smart enough to figure this out, I would think it would be a no-brainer for a teacher who deals with a classroom of children on a daily basis.

And if you don't care about the sugar highs and lows, consider the obesity problem in children as well as the alarming increase of children suffering from diabetes. How hypocritical is it to yank juice machines with one hand while you fill your classroom candy jar with the other?

Sure, it's easy to reward with candy. And the kids will love it. And love you. But when they start bouncing off the walls, or stop participating because they are sleepy and can no longer focus, don't complain to me. One of the most important things kids need to learn is that the satisfaction of a job will done comes from within, and not from a fistful of Jolly Ranchers.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Four Little Words

The following are a list of words you would most likely never hear me say in a sentence, unless I was describing somebody else, like, say, BSTuna, for example.



1. Cute

2. Brown

3. Shoes

4. Socks



1. I never use the word cute. Unless it is in reference to a baby animal.

Or a baby baby.

2. I do not wear dirt colors. Ever.

3. Shoes are of the devil, and I only wear them because it's cold outside, and society dictates that I do so.

4. Ditto. Socks' only redeeming quality is that they are hidden by pants.



So when I tell you that today I am wearing CUTE BROWN SHOES and SOCKS THAT TOTALLY, UTTERLY and REDUNDANTLY MATCH BOTH EACH OTHER AS WELL AS MY PANTS you should be quite astounded. Because I am. And it's true. And I'll most likely never say that sentence about myself again. Ever.





The holy shoes of cuteness. But mine are brown, not hot pink.

Four Little Words

The following are a list of words you would most likely never hear me say in a sentence, unless I was describing somebody else, like, say, BSTuna, for example.

1. Cute
2. Brown
3. Shoes
4. Socks

1. I never use the word cute. Unless it is in reference to a baby animal.
Or a baby baby.
2. I do not wear dirt colors. Ever.
3. Shoes are of the devil, and I only wear them because it's cold outside, and society dictates that I do so.
4. Ditto. Socks' only redeeming quality is that they are hidden by pants.

So when I tell you that today I am wearing CUTE BROWN SHOES and SOCKS THAT TOTALLY, UTTERLY and REDUNDANTLY MATCH BOTH EACH OTHER AS WELL AS MY PANTS you should be quite astounded. Because I am. And it's true. And I'll most likely never say that sentence about myself again. Ever.


The holy shoes of cuteness. But mine are brown, not hot pink.

Sunday, November 07, 2004

Mystery in Aisle Seven

I ventured to the grocery store on Saturday along with the rest of the free world. Sad to say, I was in a hurry. They were not. Shopping was torture. In between heats of the Olympic Grocery Cart slalom event, I came across two separate instances of grocery HUH??idness that I hadn't seen in quite awhile.



Example the First: Low Carb Hamburger Helper

No, really. Low carb. Hamburger Helper. Or, as they like to call it "Carb Monitor" Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the premise of hamburger helper is to cook up some hamburger and then add noodles and a flavored powdery cheesy goop sauce that theoretically makes the whole thing palatable. The noodles and goop sauce comes in a box loaded with chemicals so the cheesy goop sauce remains fresh and powdery (I guess) and contains enough sodium to open a pretzel factory.



But think about it. "Carb Monitor" doesn't necessarily mean "Low Carb". Heck, maybe the carb monitor shows your heart climbing the mountain and jumping off a cliff like lemmings into an ocean of cheesy goop. Actually though -- in this case, anyway -- "Carb Monitor" really does mean low carb to the Helping Hand of Hamburger Helper. Or at least lower carb than before. It boasts a whopping 30% fewer carbs than full-tilt death-match Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni. But really, when your carbometer is already off the charts, what's a few more between friends? And for those who are extremely carb conscious, even with 30% fewer carbs, one helping is still more than even a dead Atkins will allow. But hey, kudos for trying.

Need more Propaganda?





Example the Second: Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Flushable

I had been pondering purchasing one of these for awhile, and finally remembered this weekend to find one and take a look at it. I didn't want anything that created a lot of waste, so I wanted to see how this works. It's essentially a paper-type scrubber that attaches to a long handle. When you're finished, you flush it and it dissolves. Simple enough.



So, as I'm looking over the instructions on the back, the very first CAPS LOCK warning is: DO NOT USE FOR PERSONAL HYGIENE.



Following that little informational nugget, these were the precise order of my thoughts:

1. Grossed Out

Personal Hygiene and toilet cleaner? UGH.

2. Hysterically funny in a grossed-out kind of way

OH MY GOSH! They had to put a warning about using toilet cleaner as a methods of personal hygiene. Are people really that dumb?

3. Horrified

Wait.Wait.WAIT. Are people really.......*brainfreeze*

4. Ewwwwwww

GROSSS!

5. Funny again in a perverted sense of humor kind of way

OH MY GOSH! People are....and then they have to actually put up a warning because, because people are using this as a....OH MY GOSH!

6. Profound Disappointment

I'm old. I'm old and set in my ways. I'm old and set in my ways and so UNCREATIVE that I would have never, ever in a million years thought to ever use a long-handled toilet cleaning brush for any sort of personal-anything use whatsoever. Why didn't I think of something so outside the box that they would have to put a warning ON the box?



Not only that. If you read the order of CAPS-LOCK precautions, the PERSONAL HYGIENE one comes first. It comes before splooshing it in your eyes and needing a seeing eye dog. It comes before eating it for lunch and then losing your lunch. And your digestive tract.



So I'm thinking that the next time I'm feeling like I'm in a rut, I'm going to head off to the grocery store. Who needs a bottle of wine and a racy novel? With Carb-Monitor Hamburger Helper Cheesy Macaroni and a Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Flushable, it's party time, Tuna Style.



Or so they say.

Mystery in Aisle Seven

I ventured to the grocery store on Saturday along with the rest of the free world. Sad to say, I was in a hurry. They were not. Shopping was torture. In between heats of the Olympic Grocery Cart slalom event, I came across two separate instances of grocery HUH??idness that I hadn't seen in quite awhile.

Example the First: Low Carb Hamburger Helper
No, really. Low carb. Hamburger Helper. Or, as they like to call it "Carb Monitor" Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the premise of hamburger helper is to cook up some hamburger and then add noodles and a flavored powdery cheesy goop sauce that theoretically makes the whole thing palatable. The noodles and goop sauce comes in a box loaded with chemicals so the cheesy goop sauce remains fresh and powdery (I guess) and contains enough sodium to open a pretzel factory.

But think about it. "Carb Monitor" doesn't necessarily mean "Low Carb". Heck, maybe the carb monitor shows your heart climbing the mountain and jumping off a cliff like lemmings into an ocean of cheesy goop. Actually though -- in this case, anyway -- "Carb Monitor" really does mean low carb to the Helping Hand of Hamburger Helper. Or at least lower carb than before. It boasts a whopping 30% fewer carbs than full-tilt death-match Hamburger Helper Cheeseburger Macaroni. But really, when your carbometer is already off the charts, what's a few more between friends? And for those who are extremely carb conscious, even with 30% fewer carbs, one helping is still more than even a dead Atkins will allow. But hey, kudos for trying.
Need more Propaganda?


Example the Second: Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Flushable
I had been pondering purchasing one of these for awhile, and finally remembered this weekend to find one and take a look at it. I didn't want anything that created a lot of waste, so I wanted to see how this works. It's essentially a paper-type scrubber that attaches to a long handle. When you're finished, you flush it and it dissolves. Simple enough.

So, as I'm looking over the instructions on the back, the very first CAPS LOCK warning is: DO NOT USE FOR PERSONAL HYGIENE.

Following that little informational nugget, these were the precise order of my thoughts:
1. Grossed Out
Personal Hygiene and toilet cleaner? UGH.
2. Hysterically funny in a grossed-out kind of way
OH MY GOSH! They had to put a warning about using toilet cleaner as a methods of personal hygiene. Are people really that dumb?
3. Horrified
Wait.Wait.WAIT. Are people really.......*brainfreeze*
4. Ewwwwwww
GROSSS!
5. Funny again in a perverted sense of humor kind of way
OH MY GOSH! People are....and then they have to actually put up a warning because, because people are using this as a....OH MY GOSH!
6. Profound Disappointment
I'm old. I'm old and set in my ways. I'm old and set in my ways and so UNCREATIVE that I would have never, ever in a million years thought to ever use a long-handled toilet cleaning brush for any sort of personal-anything use whatsoever. Why didn't I think of something so outside the box that they would have to put a warning ON the box?

Not only that. If you read the order of CAPS-LOCK precautions, the PERSONAL HYGIENE one comes first. It comes before splooshing it in your eyes and needing a seeing eye dog. It comes before eating it for lunch and then losing your lunch. And your digestive tract.

So I'm thinking that the next time I'm feeling like I'm in a rut, I'm going to head off to the grocery store. Who needs a bottle of wine and a racy novel? With Carb-Monitor Hamburger Helper Cheesy Macaroni and a Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Flushable, it's party time, Tuna Style.

Or so they say.

Friday, November 05, 2004

Getting It Out of My System

Yes, I know it's over. Yes, it's time to move ahead. But I need to post a few more thing, for posterity's sake, if nothing else.



1. Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oldsmobile



Oh yellow ribbon magnets. Didn't I just mention these the other day? I'm glad to see I'm not alone. Validation Validation Validation.





2. What Would Jesus Wear?

**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**

**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka**Thwacka
**





3. If A Picture Paints a Thousand Words...

Popping up everywhere, but worth repeating.



I believe my favorite reference to this picture was "The Republic of Jesusistan."

Gotta Love BoingBoing.







Wish I had one of these for TV-J.





4. Bill and Ted's Most Excellent Essays:

U.S.A.R. and U.S.A.B.

Not a half-bad idea. Courtsey of Boing-Boing.



Feeling screwed-over by the last election? Never you fear, the Vatican

is so up for Good Catholics to "Do It" that they've written a book. OK,

they've written a pamphlet. But remember, it's not the size of the publication,

it's what you do with it...





5. AOL, the New Morality

First I wonder if this is a sign of the future. Then I wonder how much fun

I would have had if I were on the other end of this phone conversation.

Answer: A Whole. Lot.



6. Speaking of Phones

I want one. NOW. Oh, and I want an Oompah-Loompah too, while I'm at it.



7. Find a Hobby

Hey, THIS might be something to do for the next four years.



8. Final Thoughts



First of all, it's a joke, so don't get yanked out of shape.

Second of all, yes, I know the picture is wide and is going

to wreak havoc with scrolling. I'll fix it later. Lastly, I

absolutely love the title of this picture:

"Run Liberal, Run."