My grandmother had a green parakeet (budgie) when I was little. His hatching date was within a few months of my birthday. He died when we were 8 years old. He could say a few words but nothing like this little guy.
I am a somewhat “matchy-matchy” person. (though I hate that term, “matchy-matchy”. It makes it sound like a bad thing.) It’s not about how other people see me. Even when I’m at home, with no one else here to see me, wearing sloppy sweat pants and a ragged t-shirt and fuzzy house socks (my standard wintertime attire) it all has to be color coordinated. (I have relaxed a bit about the socks in the past year.)
Yesterday morning I needed two grocery items and decided to go to the Dollar General five miles away instead of to one of the grocery stores in town 12 miles away. I had on a black and white paisley dress. I had been wearing my single strap Birkenstocks around the house but I don’t like to drive in sandals. Normally I would have worn black shoes with this dress (since it’s after Labor Day so obviously I can’t wear white shoes) but I thought, “If I wear the black shoes I’ll have to transfer everything in my purse to my black purse and I’m only going to Dollar General.” So I wore brown shoes with my black and white dress. I felt uncomfortable about it but I did it.
At Dollar General, as I was in my car about to back out, I noticed a woman walking across the parking lot. She was wearing denim shorts and a loose red t-shirt. She appeared to be in her 60’s. Overall, she was heavy but not grossly huge. But she had boobies the size of basketballs and they were on the loose, swinging free and lively, swinging and bouncing in a disgustingly mesmerizing dance, back and forth, up and down, across her chest. And I thought, “And I was worried about wearing the wrong color shoes? I really need to get some perspective.” But denim shorts and a red t-shirt… those definitely go together. I’ll have to give her that.
I keep getting spam comments from someone or something using the name ShoogeStulfef. I swear if I ever write a fantasy novel I’m going to name a character Shooge Stulfef. I haven’t decided what sort of character he will be. Certainly male, probably large and disheveled, and not necessarily human. Thoughts?
For some reason – I can’t figure out why – online quizzes are fun, even though the multiple choice questions rarely give me a choice that is anything close to what my real answer would be. So, just for fun, I’m going to give my real answers to a quiz. I’m thinking I might make this a regular or semi-regular “feature”. Or I might not. You know how that goes.
This morning’s quiz is What City Should You Live In? Oh, what fun! I already know the answer to that one but let’s go.
What is the background for your ideal walk? – Woodland trails, preferably with a few hills.
Which of the following seasons do you prefer? – Summer. (Strangely, the quiz left this season out of their choices.)
Which of the following means of transport suits you the most? – Ford F150. Or whatever brand of pickup we end up with next. It’s almost time.
What kind of music describes you? – Bach
Where do you like to eat? – At home. Or at someone else’s home. Or at a nice family restaurant. I don’t care, I like variety.
What is the main quality of every town? – I can’t pick just one. I like multiple good qualities.
What kind of tourist attractions do you prefer? – Museums
Which of these hobbies could be yours? – Okay, I have to admit, shopping is a good answer or I could have picked painting if I had any talent for that sort of thing. My real hobbies: sewing, reading, and spending too much time on the Internet.
What do you like to read? – Science fiction, historical novels, and classics, but if I have to pick just one… science fiction.
What is your ideal party? – A back yard barbeque with lots of relatives.
And, my real answer to “What City Should You Live In?” – You should not live in any city. You should live far out in the country on several wooded acres but near enough to a medium-large city to drive to it once in a while.
Your goal is to breed all the different dragons available to you
Well, actually, there aren’t any dragons available to me but I like the sentiment. Maybe it’s meant metaphorically. Yeah that has to be it. I must try to figure out what it means. What a way to start the day. If I got a few more like this I might almost look forward to spam.
The rollerblader is still my favorite, I think (whole thing here). Or maybe the shop tools guys are my new favorites.
The middle part is kinda horrible but just keep watching.
I just had to save this for posterity before I delete it. My favorite recent spam comment, in its entirety. Sometimes spammers can be so unintentionally poetic.
You could definitely see your skills within the paintings you write. The arena hopes for even more passionate writers like you who are not afraid to say how they believe. Always follow your heart. “Until you walk a mile in another man’s moccasins you can’t imagine the smell.” by Robert Byrne.
First of all, to all you dog people out there who insist that dogs are smarter than cats I must say, okay fine. Whatever. I don’t care. Teddy bears are also a lot less intelligent than dogs but they’re more cuddly and a lot less work. So now that we’ve got that out of the way…
Even for a species not known for their intelligence, my cat Dax (named after a Star Trek character) is mentally challenged. Okay, seriously? She’s a freaking moron. Whenever she hears thunder she doesn’t hide under the couch like a normal cat; she begs to go outside to escape. That’s right, outside where the thunder is. So, about 2:30 this morning we heard a few rumblings, nothing serious, and the great brainless wonder starts screaming, and by “screaming” I mean making a really weird, really LOUD, alien horror movie type terrified cat sound.
So that we, and the people in the next county, could get back to sleep I had no choice but to get up and let her out. I confess I was sort of hoping the thunder would suddenly get closer and much louder after I closed the door but it stopped and we heard nothing for the rest of the night.
I have had a couple of spam comments apparently trying to sell chicken coops. I wonder if that’s code for something. Chicken coops are not an unusual item but you don’t often see chicken coop spam. I sort of like the trend though. I wonder what’s next. Discount horse shoeing? Milking machines? A super secret, the-government-doesn’t-want-you-to-know, fuel additive to make your tractor run more efficiently?
I was going to embed this video, Worst Words in the English Language, but the embed code wouldn’t ever load. Then I noticed an even better video in the “related” column, If The Art World Had to Deal With YouTube Comments but the code for that one won’t load either. So it wasn’t just that one video.
Regarding the “worst words” video: My post title was going to be “Well, When You Say It Like That.” Most of those words never bothered me at all but the video makes them sound really “EEEWWWWWW”.
Regarding the art video: So true, but I kind of had to agree with the first two comments about Jackson Pollack.
It’s a stairway to another dimension. It must be.
Actually, looking closely at the bricks, it looks like there might have once been another door there. Now, how to explain those other four doors?
From There I Fixed It
I first saw this on Facebook. It is so adorable and gross at the same time.
This is why I can’t work in retail. I just don’t have the strength of character to not tell an incredibly stupid person that they are being incredibly stupid. Well, actually, I do but having to do it on a regular basis, day after day, is way too stressful and turns me into an unhappy, not very nice person.
In all fairness though – 1. Not everyone who does or says something dumb in public is really that dumb. They might just be having a relatively rare “senior” or “dumb blond” moment which they will be intensely embarrassed about later. 2. #20 might actually be possible in the near future and even if it never is, how is the average, non-geeky person supposed to know in a world where everything has a computer and we’re constantly being warned about viruses?
I really feel, difficult as it is, that we should be patient with stupid people because if they really are that stupid they can’t help it, right? You can’t expect a stupid person to be smart any more than you can expect a person with a limp to walk faster. But the angry and mean people – the #3’s and the #13’s – deserve no mercy. Not everyone can be smart but everyone can be nice, even if it is really really hard sometimes.
See, there’s a problem with living in the moment. One moment you’re enjoying a cookie and then sometime later you have another moment in which you discover that you can no longer fasten your favorite jeans.
I can’t resist this.
Okay, so I’m easily amused. You knew that already.
This is a top contender for the title of Silliest Warning Label Ever. This is the back of a card of 7/8 inch Dill brand buttons.
“Not a toy. Not intended for use by children under 14.” Seriously? I mean… Seriously?! I sort of get the “This is not a toy,” part. I can see some mentally challenged, trailer trash type of mom thinking, “Oh, these pretty buttons would be a fun toy for my 2-year old.” (I’m not sure such a person would bother to read the label anyway but whatever.) But the “under 14″ part is what I don’t get. The first time I sewed on a button I was 7 years old. Seven. Perhaps seven is a bit early but if a child reaches the age of 14 without ever having sewn on a button… well, bless her (or his) little heart.
I also played with buttons from my grandmother’s button jar when I was only five. It’s a miracle I survived childhood.