The fridge that almost got away

Stop right there!

Vodka for breakfast

Behold the latest spirit creation-- Bacon Vodka! I am still awaiting as to when the entire breakfast cannon will be available in vodka format-- Waffle Vodka, Pancake Vodka, Oatmeal Vodka, Blueberry Muffin Vodka and Lox Vodka.

Can't you just imagine a breakfast buffet full of shots poured marked by pictures of various vodka flavors-- as far as the eye can see.

I would certainly be a VIP at a place like that.

Adventure is worthwhile

It's been an entertaining weekend, with one of my friends winning a jackpot at the casino, to shooting pool with Captain Morgan watching nearby to picking up my brother at the Greyhound station.

I put greyhound into the GPS and it took me to the Dog track-- most people find that amusing, but it was rather irritating.

I love 3 day weekends and it was so nice to get to sleep in today.

It's a Strawberry Meltdown!

This is exactly how I feel about ice cream. It's more glamorous with robots, though. Everything always is.

Please view Jon Reinfurt's entire portfolio here.

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With my naked eye I saw

Tedd decorated our Holga. I love it.

The Bacone

I am transfixed by this thing. It's wonderful, it's HORRIBLE, it's the alpha and omega of foods. And it won Judge's Choice at this year's Bacon Camp in San Francisco. What is Bacon Camp, you ask? WELL ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE:

BaconCamp - The Internet Bacon Meme in 60 Seconds from Bac'n.com on Vimeo.

Why did I EVER move away from San Francisco?

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I did something I didn't especially want to that day...

So I rewarded myself with some photobooth photos with Tedd. Click that sucker to see it in all its glory!!

For your teeth only

The mere idea of flossing instead of eating breakfast seems almost incomprehensible, but strangely alluring at the same time. While breakfast can never be fully replaced, you can give it a shot with Archie Mcphee

What would bacon do?

Stylish, charming and certain to cover your maw in ink. Its up for grabs here

Smattering of sumptuous serenades

If I was a toaster with teeth, I would do the exact same damned thing.

An Ox of a Different Color

So apparently, Babe the Blue Ox (of Paul Bunyan fame) is a boy.





And has some SERIOUS stuff going in the genitals department (Note to Self: Is that a real department? Must investigate.)





This realization, while I was visiting TREEEEEES of MYYYYSTERY in Klamath, California this weekend, blew away a lot of my pre-conceived notions of the Paul Bunyan myth.

I had assumed from the name of the ox that it was a lady. But now, in light of recent photographic evidence and subsequent independent research, my world view has been shifted. I'm forced to face a lot of big, hard truths. In my wildest nightmares I would never have dreamed that these truths would be staring me in the face quite so forcefully, but there they are.

Blue, round, pendulous.

And unmistakable.

"We Have Two American Flags Always: One for the rich and one for the poor." ~Henry Miller

I'm particularly interested in flags and banners and balloons and other decorations used to advertise sales. They're especially fabulous at used car lots -- streamers and tall, high balloons floating on long strings against the sky -- but I enjoy them everywhere.

There's a beauty in the colors and the shapes, the festive air, even as the root of the whole affair is so cynical. The prayer flags of commerce, spreading their wishes for a bountiful capitalist venture.

Don't Dance on a Volcano

My boyfriend and I are in a mad rush to see everything in the area before we flee this part of the country for good. Which means I've seen a large collection of sites recently in a incredibly short amount of time. Which is not a bad deal, when you think about it.

Last week we went to Mt. St. Helens. We do these trips in a kind of frenzied rush, hurrying to see everything we want to see and do everything we can while still getting home at a semi-reasonable hour. What was really interesting for me about this trip is that I remember when the volcano erupted in 1980, even though I was only 3 1/2. I can only imagine that my intensely morbid turn of mind was permanently imprinted with the human tragedy and devastation even at such a young age. I distinctly remember hearing that the volume of ash would affect the sunsets, and my childish mind thought that it would be that way forever, that the sunsets would never be the same.

I guess that was and wasn't true. Like any disaster, for some people, the sunsets are never the same, right?

Success

Going to watch my dad run an ironman triathlon in Orlando in just a bit. I promised a friend I'd run a 5k with her at some point this year. While I hate the idea of running, I love the feeling it gives.

Conquering a race feels like a major task, but it can be done with a positive attitude and some training.

Up, Up, Away

I pass this wheatpaste of a figure in a hot air balloon almost every single day. I still haven't hopped in and floated away. That's a serious failure on my part.

My ears are young, my spirit is old and tired.

This is a sign that I haven't gone to as many concerts as I should have, probably.

Created by Train Horns

My tractor is a member of my band

This just further cements my conviction that Sweden is where it's all happening.

link via

Political Figures

I've been noticing lately how...popular? Chinese propaganda memorabilia seems to be, but I was still surprised to see actual propaganda figurines for sale at a local store the other day. And super expensive, too. These were priced in the 200$-range.




The way that shops choose to display merchandise always interests me, because it's like the items are arranged to form new ideas and make up new visual sentences that they were not originally intended for. It often feels like the people who design display windows are trying to communicate with shoppers, using pre-made objects as their language. 

Here, I really enjoyed the placement of Mao and pals in front of a giant Chinese checker board that dwarfs the entire company. I wonder what the message behind this arrangement is. Perhaps that Chinese Checkers is a hell of a game.





This one is probably my favorite -- it is apparently called "Exceed United States and United Kingdom" and the characters on the rocket say "Chinese Rocket."(Info from here). I love the idea of a man and woman building a rocket and riding it the hell out of here and up into outer space. See ya, suckers! they'd shout down to the clamoring throng. In this particular arrangement, I like how there's part of another figure on the right who looks like he's scalping tickets to the event.




This figure shows the humiliation and punishment of a counter-revolutionary. The cap says "stinky 9th class (citizen)" on it (please go here for a great analysis of this figure), and from my extremely limited familiarity with the Cultural Revolution in China, I suppose his glasses are a way to denote that he's meant to be a scholar, a much-maligned group during the time. For another example of scholar-punishment figurines, go here.

The thing I really love about the placement within the store, though, is that the missile from the previous figurine is pointed right at that dude on the right's head.



I haven't been able to find any information on this figurine, but I like the way her gun sort of blends into the rocket behind her and through that guy's crotch. That's a hell of a situation to find yourself in.

I has an idea

Chock full of ideas lately-- this is definitely a step in the right direction. However, I'm just a n00b when it comes to these weblog thingamajigs, so you will have to excuse my greenness. Things like tags and links and labels will all have to come in due time. For now, it will just be my meandering thoughts.

I finally got my new laptop-- and last night had me mostly feeling like this. It arrived right as I was hopping in the shower for work, and when I got home I had issues with the wireless connection, the power cord, the lack of documentation and stupid Windows Vista. Things seem OK for now though-- I might actually be able to slay this beast.

Time to Get Away

Change is both afoot and afeet and aknuckle-- I can feel it in my bones. It's high time for me to get out of a lot of the routines I've fallen into, like automatically turning on a TV, or staying up too late, or mostly just not making the most of a beautiful day.

Child of the Bronze Age

This is part of my series of unfortunate artificial children. That is one of my favorite things -- attempted homages to childhood gone horribly, horribly wrong. Case in point, this terrible child statue from San Juan Bautista, California. When I first saw it, I was drawn toward it with rapt amazement, confusion, and horror. I had to have it inside my camera. The cowboy regalia, the "Oh NO! I forgot to turn the oven off!" expression, or "Of COURSE! The key was under the doormat all ALONG!"...everything about it is perfect. Especially that its seated as naturally as possible on a fence, held there by chains.

Miss Priss

This is a pitcher I bought which I later learned is from the "Miss Priss" line of kitty-themed doodads and knick-knacks by Lefton. I have made a sticker of this picture and placed it on the bottom of the actual object. I will soon take a picture of the sticker of the picture of the pitcher, and THEN MY REIGN OF INSANITY WILL REACH ITS APOGEE.

PS~ Some marvelous things come up when you Google "Miss Priss". Including custom-made tutus, the astonishing Miss Priss Cupcakes & Such, and -- I swear to you -- Miss Priss the Clown. SHE WRITES POEMS. And they are incredible.

Somewhere Between the Samba and the Omega

We are writing from a place somewhere between the samba and the omega, between aleph and Babylon 5, between y griega and the Halls of Montezuma and the shores of Tripoli.

Nestled in between the harp and happenstance, the Quizno's and the quizzical, the quetzal and the phoenix.

Knee-deep in oyster shells, crustaceal, proudly clawed and defiant.

We are giants, we are constant and unchanging, we are prehistoric, and we hail from the future.

Grawwwwwwrrrr.

The alpha and the rhumba

So this is it, the beginning, the commencement, the origin, the prelude, square one, the takeoff into the atmosphere.

I would like for the words you are reading to take you to another place, a place where everything is different from anything you've ever seen-- where sharks drive you to work and walruses bring you your morning coffee.

In order to do that, all you must do gentle reader is put down your defenses, your inhibitions and your preconceived notions about everything you have ever seen, heard, smelled, tasted and touched.

Because now everything is turned topsy-turvy, and the two of us are about to bust a move and blow your mind right through to the magma within.

It will happen-- just give us the chance.