ow! ow! ow!

static tumbleweed
perhaps a nest for small rats
or built-in pillow

Ideas? Comments? Suggestions? Preferred brands of detangler?

Maybe we’ll just go for some dreads…

schizzle my pizzle, yo

Wankmaster Teapot
bringing funk to da hiz-owse
oh god I’m so white

This site has the Wankmaster Teapot straight trippin’, yo. Visit The Goddamn Rock Solid Ghetto Shiznit Name Generator to find out your ghetto name.

Possibly it will be funnier than Wankmaster Teapot. Possibly not.

gah-rody

bones, innards, huge birds
greeting us from across street
kitty cat smushed flat

I am disturbed by two things:

1)people who let their pets roam free
2)people who speed down neighborhood streets

(I did not mean for that to ryhme)

brilliant

rat bastard sniffed out
even good ol’ boy neighbors
want him O-U-T

Dubya’s hometown newspaper, the Crawford, Texas Iconoclast, is endorsing John Kerry for President.

That’s right. The CRAWFORD newspaper is endorsing KERRY.

(Thanks to Daily Kos for pointing out the editorial.)

This is a paper that endorsed Bush in 2000, supported the war, and has generally wagged it’s little tail as it championed Bush and his policies. But now that they’ve seen the true face of “compassionate conservatism” they’ve reared back from the Bush/Cheney janus and realized the truth. They want him out of office.

Hello? Kerry campaign? TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THIS. Not just because it’s Bush’s hometown paper calling him out, but because it’s a well-written, well-thought editorial.

And, well, yes, because it’s Bush’s hometown paper.

I love you soooooo much

four dollar baby
best damn money ever spent
we love Oobaloo

The wee one recently got five dollars in the mail from his great-grandmother. Rather than save it for college or something useful like that, I yelled, “Woo hoo! Let’s go to Target!”

So we took the five dollars to Target and checked out the toys. We narrowed things down to a barnyard puzzle, a light sabre and a little doll. Crazily enough, the wee one chose the doll over the other two coveted toys. As soon as he grabbed the doll off the shelf he exclaimed, “Oh, baby, I love her sooooo much.” And, well, that was that.

Once we got home I asked the wee one what his baby’s name was.

“Oobaloo,” he said, as if I was crazy for not knowing this already.

I didn’t really think the name would stick, because it sounded a lot like made-up words he’s been calling other things. Yet when I asked him again later in the afternoon what his baby’s name was, he said matter-of-factly, “Ooblaoo.”

So Oobaloo it is.

Poor Oobaloo, though is in serious need of a GPS tracking device. She’s lost more than she’s found. Our days have now devolved into conducting massive search and rescue missions. We find Oobaloo’s clothes, but no Oobaloo, so then our search becomes a kind of CSI episode with examinations of evidence and interrogations of hapless Newman.

I don’t what would happen if Oobaloo was ever lost for good. We’d have to call Gary Sinise.

uh-oh

silver speckled fridge
can we just call it retro
instead of uh-oh?

Note: The Mr. Clean Magic Eraser… while it, indeed, magically erases fingerprints from your fridge, it also magically erases the paint from your fridge.

Shit.

That Bea Arthur is such a hootchie

manly, husky voice
in alien cantina
way, WAY outsexed blanche

In honor of both my brother-in-law’s birthday, and the fact that Star Wars is FINALLY out on DVD (even if it has stupid stuff in it like Greedo shooting first), I bring you a friday afternoon Star Wars Holiday Special haiku extravaganza. Enjoy (and please feel free to add your own haiku and/or adorable anecdotes about the first time you saw the dreaded SWHS).

bea arthur, harvey
korman, jefferson starship
My eyes! Oh the pain!

mos eisley hootchie
tempting aliens with her
scary ass long air

O tatooine. O
tatooine your dunes are so
smooth and jawa-y

OK. I admit, I haven’t actually see the SWHS, but it truly looks awesome (in a painful, these-actors-must-be-really-coked-up-and-or-hard-up-for-cash-to-do-this kind of way). I’d love to see it in its full glory – including the commercials for death star toys and remote control R2D2s. If you want more screen caps and some funny commentary on the whole shebang, you can go here.

Happy “Life Day” to you all and may the Force cleanse these terrible haiku from your brain.

By the way, I was in the same restaraunt with Bea Arthur once. She was kind of loud and scary (and, frankly, I thought she was possibly drunk and disorderly).

At the time I didn’t know about the SWHS , but man, if I had, I might have asked for her autograph. Years of Golden Girls and Broadway shows be damned. It’s the SWHS she should be remembered for. If only my tivo could take me back in time…

Yay! Dinosaurs!

If you would buy this
I have a garage full of
real old dugong bones

Seriously. I have a ton of dugong fossils in my garage. I dug them all up on a dig I went on when I was about 10.

Why are you laughing?

I also found a 65 million year old parrot fish palette. Bad ass, I know.

Are you still laughing at me?

It was the best damn afternoon trip I ever went on, digging up those fossils. Bones, shark teeth, parrot fish palettes… I found some of the best stuff of any kid on the excursion. Of course, now that I see this, maybe I should suck up my pride and sell the whole damn lot on ebay.

Not sure what the “meat” part means, though. Brings a whole new meaning to boutique jerky doesn’t it?

argh

gritting teeth, wrinkles
some threats of strangulation
it’s a no nap day

How do the No Nap days always manage to coincide with the I Finally Have an Idea For The Book days? Why is it that when I’m feeling creative I can barely patch together ten minutes to write, but when I can’t think of anything to put on paper I have hours of time to waste watching crap TV?

Speaking of crap TV, I buckled under the pressure of a tempting rebate and bought a Tivo yesterday. I’m so excited I have to keep squelching little squeals of happiness. Does this make me a sad and crazy young woman? Hell yeah. Does that fact bother me? Hell no.

Now, if only I had a tivo for all that wasted free time when I can’t think of anything to write. I’d tivo my spare time and save it for No Nap days like today. THAT would be a truly awesome invention.

dome homes

Cult member: Can I interest you in our free weekend session?
Homer: When is this weekend?
Cult member: It’s this weekend
Homer: Oh, I see… and how much is this free weekend?
Cult member: Er… it’s free
Homer: Uh huh, and when is this weekend?
Cult member: It’s this weekend
Homer: And how much are you charging for this free weekend [gets dragged away by
Bart], it’s free right?

rising from the earth
like big pimples, maybe boils
domes homes here to stay?

Meet Bruco (above). He’s a caterpillar made out of monolithic domes. Actually, I think he may be a factory for the domes, too. He’s actually been painted since this picture was taken – each of his humps are a different, shiny color, and his cowboy boots have been freshened up as well.

How do I know Bruco, you ask? He’s a landmark on the Dallas-Austin drive down Interstate 35. Bruco lives in Italy, Texas. (We pronounce it “IT-lee.” Or at least I do, for fun.)

I’ve been passing Bruco now for over a decade. He always has that same smile, and though his color changes from time to time, everything else about him stays the same. Recently, though, a sign has popped up on the side of the road just past Bruco, advertising the dome homes he represents, and inviting the public to stop by and take a tour of the “facilities.” As Bruco is located just about a stone’s throw from Waco, we’ve been a bit cautious about stopping to visit for fear of being brainwashed into some kind of neo-David Karesh dome home cult.

After reading msnbc.com the other day, though, maybe I shouldn’t fear a tour of Bruco. Apparently the dome home folks are going mainstream (so to speak). Good ol’ Bruco is helping people build houses to survive hurricanes (and random rifle fire, as well).

So maybe next time we drive by we should stop by and see what the inside of the caterpiller is like.

It’s probably not a cult.

Probably.