Vignettes: Weekend Adventures
Current mood: It’s okay!

"Who knows what it's like to be me?"

Great flick.  And a good question.  I've asked it myself.  In case any of you should ever intend to know what it is like to be me (God help you), read on (God help you).

This is what I was like over the weekend:

Dumb, Dumber

Dumb: Cooking instructions that suggest heating 1 TBSP of oil and then adding a frozen food product and 2 TBSP of water.

Dumber: Following these instructions

It's okay.  The flying hot oil missed me.

Should Have Done/Did

Should Have Done: Turned the light on

Did: Removed glasses so that they would not break/further injure me when I fell on my face, which I would inevitably do trying to traverse a messy kitchen with a cat wrapped around my ankles - in total darkness

It's okay.  The glasses were unharmed.  Now if I could only remember where I put them...

Shouldn't Have Done/Did

Shouldn't Have Done: Eaten one mouthful of that dodgy food at Chili's
Did: Ate two mouthfuls of that dodgy food at Chili's
Did: Took Pepto Bismol
Did: Took shower
Did: Took Immodium
Did: Took another shower
About to do: Call lawyer

It's okay.  The settlement should cover a down payment on a small foreign automobile.

And now you know.  

And I'll be the exact same way the next time you see me.  But I'll be that way behind the wheel of my new, small, foreign automobile. 

Currently watching : Dead Man Release date: 19 December, 2000

10:47 AM - 89 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Calling All Indie Bands!
Category: Music

The Inept Owl is a satirical online paper covering the latest and greatest (subjectivity is a wonderful thing) in news, politics, and entertainment.  The Owl features articles and editorials by the best and brightest minds on the web.  And me.

How's that for a Wiki article?

The Inept Owl's latest and greatest (objectively) undertaking is an expansion of the music reviews.  In essense:  Indie bands!  We'd like to feature mad indie bands.

Below is a copy of The Inept Owl's blog (reprinted without permission).  I'd like to stress that I am not the editor, but a staff writer.  That's what my t-shirt says.  Patrick is our editor, even though he doesn't have an editor's t-shirt yet.  If you are interested, and I hope you are, please follow the link below or contact Patrick at ineptowl@gmail.com.

Hello bands, rappers, tin-can beaters, etc.,

The Inept Owl is evolving its music reviews to include new and upcoming music.

To be considered, you must have the following:

1) a full length album. EPs and singles will not be considered.

2) a way to allow free access of the album to our reviewer. This can be done by FTP upload. We are not accepting music by postal mail to keep down costs to us as well as the musicians.

3) a sense of humor. The Inept Owl is not very serious about anything, and our work reflects that. If you find yourself crying when other people kid with you or heckle you or steal your milk box, then The Inept Owl may not be for you.

But if you want some easy exposure to go with the ribbing you'll get, contact us here or at ineptowl@gmail.com

check us out at www.TheIneptOwl.com to see what you're in for.

-The Editor

Currently listening : To Be Continued... By The Northstar Session

6:32 PM - 89 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

What the hell is that...
Current mood: The fright doesn’t end in October.

and where can I get one?

It's that time of year again: Carols in the air, red and green everywhere.  That's right; it's just after Halloween.

Already behind on the Christmas rush, Plow and Hearth sent out their holiday catalog this week.  At first I thought I'd find nothing of use, seeing as I am lacking both a plow and a hearth, but lo!  I was mistaken.  This year's P&H collection was chock full of things we'll soon be unable to live without.  The items and their prices are 100% real. 

Currently reading : The Madman: His Parables and Poems By Kahlil Gibran Release date: 03 December, 2001

3:59 PM - 89 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Sweeet.
Current mood: Self-aggrandizingly douchebaggish

It still works...

That's what I kept telling myself about my 8+ year old HP with 96MB of RAM (which operated with Windows 98). 

There isn't anything wrong with it...

We say that a lot in my family.  We keep our stuff until the Smithsonian approaches us about acquiring it, at which point we feel we've gotten our money's worth.  And really, there wasn't anything wrong with the old computer; it just needed more RAM than I could install and a new hard drive and a more powerful processor and a whatever-it-needed-to-keep-it-from-making-that-awful-noise-it-made-occassionally-for-weeks-at-a-time.

There's a point in here somewhere: I haven't been able to create or post a semi-serious piece of artwork from my house (the Macs in our graphics lab aren't connected to the internet for fear of viruses) on account of the substandard equipment.  Also, Nick once said that if I did a piece for him it would totally give him "an artwork boner".

So with plenty to inspire such a purchase, I bought an arse-kickin' new computer.  And I finally made something.  For Nick (of course).

And it went over well: Nick is interested in using it as a flyer, and that's nice.  I totally have an accomplishment boner.  Or something.

Sweeet.

Currently listening : Harvest Moon By Neil Young Release date: 27 October, 1992

2:59 AM - 89 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

10 (Other) Things I Hate About Me
Current mood: Swell, just swell!
Category: Swell, just swell! Blogging

Victor the Dog tagged me.  I'm it!  Some of you will be familiar with this, but it's fun, so I'm giving it another go.  Certain things beg repeating, but I've added some new factoids this time.  Consider them bonus tracks.

1.  I believe in objective reality - that isn't to say that reality isn't subjective, I just feel that there may be very real things that are beyond our knowledge.

2.  I scream for the bassist!

3.  Vegetarian since 1990. 

4.  A phrase has been coined in my honor.  Whenever someone experiences a series of mishaps, blunders and/or great moments in klutziness, it is known as a "Michele day".  My high school English teacher was the first to use this terminology.

5.  My eye color changes along with my physical or mental state - usually from brown to amber, although this weekend I discovered that they'll turn a lovely green-hazel when doused with copious amounts of witch-hazel-based eye makeup remover.  If I'm ever maced, I should be an absolute stunner. 

6.  If socializing (anywhere) a drunkard is sure to materialize and fall on me.  Still...

7.  Although I'm often a Scully, there have been experiences in my past which can best be described as supernatural.

8.  The index finger of my right hand has a swirl-type fingerprint.  The rest are loop-type.  The presence of two types of fingerprint occurs in 10% of the population.  I am ambidextrous.  Ambidexterity occurs in less than 10% of the population.  I'm not sure how many ambidextrous folks have two types of fingerprint, or vice versa, but I must be special - and not just in the way my doctor says I am.

9.  I am (still) sent into fits of uncontrollable laughter by the inappropriate use of an air horn.

10.  Sense of humor, intelligence, and sincerity count more than any amount of money, prestige or physical beauty ever could.  If you're my friend, it's because you're my friend.  Still, you're all sexy bitches and I love yas!

Currently listening : Instant Karma: The Amnesty International Campaign to Save Darfur By Various Artists Release date: 12 June, 2007

7:08 PM - 89 Comments - 14 Kudos - Add Comment

Hold On To Your Pocket Protectors!
Current mood: geeky

Fix your glasses with tape - the Cranford Public Library is having a book sale!

I took a puff of Albuterol and roamed the shelves.  Tucked into the poetry section, for lack of a better place, was an array of antique volumes.  I scored.  Here is my favorite.   I fell in love with it immediately:

Sometimes it's safe to judge a book by its cover, right?  This is The Last Days of Pompeii, by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton,  Published by Belford, Clarke & Co,  Printed and Bound by:Donohue & Henneberry, Chicago 1888. 

Here is a scan of the inside cover (the image was clearer in greyscale):

..

And here's a detail showing the date of publication:

..

I also picked up:
The Memoirs of Benvenuto Cellini, By Benvenuto Cellini, Translated by Thomas Roscoe, Published by Hutchinson & Co., London, 1906, Printed 1906.  At some this book crossed the pond.  There is a handwritten notation on the inside cover reading: August 1946 Worthing-Sussex.

Opium: The Diary of an Addict, By Jean Cocteau, Translated by Ernest Boyd, with 27 illustrations by the author, Published by Longmans, Green and Co., 1932, First Edition.

Plus, I made off with: A 1939 Crown Publishers collection of librettos from French and German operas including sheet music;1948 Knopf English translation of Thomas Mann's Dr. Faustus, printed in the US, appears to be a first edition; a 1955 edition of The Oxford Book of English Verse, printed in the UK (another looker; green, adorned with marbled paper and foiled flowers, animals and lute); a 1958 Knopf edition of The Madman by Kahlil Gibran.

The rest of my order managed to fill two bags.  They're modern classics, probably not hard to come by,  but at a dollar per hardcover you can't go wrong.  I'm going to be occupied for while, and not just with reading:  A new set of bookshelves is definitely in order.  It'll be a workout, just like lugging all those tomes home was (okay, I only had to carry them to my car, but it counts).  Who says reading isn't physically beneficial?

In closing:

.. 

Word.

Currently listening : Goodbye Blue Monday By Jeremy Fisher Release date: 03 April, 2007

12:36 PM - 89 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

Say It With Mugshots!
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

Writer's note: My thanks and apologies to Johnny, who both ispires me and puts up with my absurdity.

What's important to most Americans?  The environment?  The budget?  Foreign policy?  Wrong, wrong and no!  It's celebrity scandal!  And what better way express what's important to you than by incorporating it into what's important to most?

Behold, my latest business venture: Say It With Mugshots!

Tired of all those boring announcements, greeting cards and MySpace graphics?  No problem, with SIWM's custom-order Mugshot Messages, you can:

Share important news!

Tell that certain someone how you feel!

Or, get down to business on your favorite message board!

So what are you waiting for?  Be heard!  Get your own Mugshot Message today! 
 

5:17 PM - 89 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Soapbox Opera
Current mood: curmudgeonly
Category: curmudgeonly Blogging

I have a lot of hobbies and interests to keep me busy; but in my spare time things annoy me.  In the spirit of narcissism, I've decided to list them.

Top Five Things Currently Pissing Me Off

5. Dust
The universe is not only infinite, it's dirty.

4. Christian Fundamentalists
...and the fact that they have a lobby powerful enough to cause three GOP candidates to claim they don't believe in evolution.  I've always felt that if you want proof of some great force in the universe, look at the overwhelming complexity of science.  Of course, it's not my place to try and mold anyone's beliefs - and Christians, it's not yours, either: so stay out of our governmental and educational systems.

3. Oprah's Vah-Jay-Jay
Enough said: That applies to me, and certainly to you, Oprah.  Go back to telling us what to read.

2. Democrats Who Keep Backing Down
You are to the party what the Mafia is to Italians - an embarrassment.  I'm ashamed to call myself one of you.

1. Idiots with Video Cameras
Guys Humping an Ottoman: I feel just as violated as that piece of furniture.  Whatever you do to inanimate objects in your own home is your business; please don't make it mine.  In related news: 'I Love New York' has been signed on for a second season.  See you there!
Ghost Riding the Whip: You should be run over by your own unmanned vehicle.  If you are over thirty and are trying this, you should be run over by another ghost rider, whose whip is a Mack truck.
Pet Videos: Your cat really can't play the piano.  She's just hitting the same group of keys repeatedly, and it isn't funny or amazing.  Call me when your furry friends can do this:

See comment below

4:08 PM - 89 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

LATKES!
Current mood: nostalgic
Category: Food and Restaurants

Hello, friends.  Are you seated comfortably?  Good; then I'll begin:

If you know what the title of this blog means, then your home town had an excellent school system (and if you get that joke, then your home town had an excellent school system).

Let's journey back to when I was a teenager; let's journey back to the early 90's.  For all you teenybopper shits reading this: yes, I was a teenager in the early 90's.  Screw off.

Anyway, where was I?  Oh, yes; the 90's.  Ren and Stimpy were funny.  George Bush (Sr). wasn't, but Dana Carvey as George Bush was.  My best friend was "Heather", who suffered chronic malnutrition due to her mother's lack of culinary skills.

Heather had been in a relationship with someone I'm going to refer to as "Mike".  It's not that I feel the need to protect his identity; I honestly cannot remember what this dude's name was.  For all I know, it may have been Mike.  Anyway, Heather's mother wanted to meet Mike, and invited him over for a home-cooked meal.  She prepared latkes (those are potato pancakes, gentiles) which my friend described as 'truly awful... undercooked and full of oil'.

Somehow Mike managed to graciously consume an oversized latke, only to have Heather's mother spoon a few more onto his plate.  Seeing that her mother wasn't going to be satisfied until he'd finished the entire platter, Heather announced that she and Mike had to be somewhere, and they promptly left.

In the car, Heather thanked Mike and apologized.  "I don't know how you managed to eat all of those," she said, noticing that her boyfriend was fishing for something in the lining of his jacket.  He produced a handful of the greasy pancakes.  "I didn't", he said.

"Listen," he went on,"these things are going to ruin my jacket; and I just can't take the smell.  You've got to get rid of them."

"Okay, let's find a garbage can," Heather replied.

"Oh, no.  You've got to get rid of them now.  I ate the first one, and I don't want to be reminded of it.  That smell is killing me.  Just get rid of them!"

Heather froze.  She'd never littered before.  She looked desperately for a trash can, but the desolate road they were travelling offered none.

"Throw them out!" Mike pleaded.

Stiffly, Heather rolled down the window.  She turned away from the car door and hesitated.

"Now!"

Heather tossed the latkes over her shoulder.  She heard what she'd later describe as 'a funny noise'.

As a perpetrator often returns to the scene of the crime, Heather looked out the window with somewhat of a morbid curiousity.  She got more than she bargained for.  Not only did she get to see where the potato bombs landed, the issue of the 'funny noise' was resolved: a confused jogger was brushing himself off on the side of the road.  He looked around, dazed.

"That man will never understand what happened to him out there," Heather told me, horrified.

"Mazel tov," I said.  "You've just performed the first Jewish drive-by."

Oy vey!

Currently reading : Songs of the Doomed : More Notes on the Death of the American Dream By Hunter S. Thompson Release date: 03 December, 2002

5:23 PM - 89 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

OR: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Air Horn
Current mood: procrastinacious
Category: procrastinacious Sports

Your reporter is busy procrastinating (man, I can't wait to get this room cleaned).  With nothing better else to do, I thought I'd share a memory.

A long, long time ago, when I was a manager for my high school's lacrosse team...

Author's note: A key piece of the lacrosse team manager's equipment is the air horn.  As it is used to make certain calls, this prankish device serves a practical purpose in said sport.  It was during a home game that the following events unfolded...
 

Late in the third quarter our coach called, "Horn!"

Heather, a fellow manager, responded.

PAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARR....

"What's going on?" said Coach.
AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!
"The air horn's stuck," Heather screamed.
 AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!
"What?" 
AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!
"It's stuck! It's stuck! The horn is stuck!"  Heather dangled the air horn at arm's length as if posed some sort of health threat. "What do we do with it?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!

Coach thought. He frowned.

"Put it in a box!"
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!
"What?"
"PUT IT IN A BOX!"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRR!!!

One of the freshman (Madden) was recruited for this task (Coach's logic was not called into question). Madden handled this with the proficiency of a HazMat technician, carrying the box as if it contained an atom bomb.

Either due to unusual strain or some defect, the air horn began to sound like an elephant experiencing strangulation.

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeURRRRRRRRRRR!

Madden winced. 

"What do I do with it?"
urrrrrrrrrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRuuuurrrrAAAAA
"Walk away!"
URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
"What?"
"WALK AWAY!"

Coach flagged him off.

By now every other sporting event on school grounds had come to a halt. 

Madden carried the box farther and farther off.  He stopped every few paces, looked back at us, and shrugged.  Coach shook his head and waved him off until he was nearly standing in the reservoir behind the field.  We all looked at each other.  The situation at hand did present a unique problem.  Air horns were designed to be heard from far away, so short of sending Madden to Canada, the distance approach wasn't working.  Garbage cans aren't soundproof, so disposing of the horn was futile.  While we pondered our dilemma the air horn regained its strength.

aarrrgh... iiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuurrrrghhhhhhhaaaaah... PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

"Oh, Jesus Christ," someone muttered.
"I think it just got louder," someone else added. 

Assistant coach Dan Convery gazed toward the parking lot and was inspired.

"Put it in my trunk."

He gave Madden his keys. Dutifully our frosh made the trek to the staff lot and deposited our problem in Convery's Toyota.

Throughout the game, a muffled perrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr emanated from the trunk. Every faculty member was out in the lot, looking for the source of the noise. The horn began pleading for help, as if it knew it had an audience.

eeeeeeeee! EeeeeeeEEEEEE! Aaaaaarrrrghgh!

"God damn it; that's annoying." Heather remarked.

We watched our English teacher examine the undercarriage of his Saab and did nothing. The lot was a long way off, and there was no screaming over that cacophony.

Our captive let out one more exclamation before expiring. Everyone went back inside.

Coincidentally, we still needed an air horn to make certain calls, and we didn't have another. Coach improvised.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!" he screamed, intending to call a time out.

"Why don't you just yell 'horn'?" we asked.

"Oh," he said.

Currently reading : Candide: Or, Optimism (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition) By Francois Voltaire Release date: 25 October, 2005

2:24 PM - 89 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment