This is a tough tune to play. I need eight hands and only have two hands. Yet I am judged harshly.
Dear Jayne: Love Always, Sparkle
Through this blog, I have been very fortunate to virtually meet a lot of funny, creative, and talented people. In addition to the sizable army of Russian spammers who enjoy frequenting this blog (I like to call them "spamniks" or "spamonauts"), people have visited from Holland, Portugal, Canada, the U.K., all over the U.S., Japan, India, and who knows where? If you use "private browsing," I certainly do not know where. I hope it's pleasant wherever you are.
Anyway, Jayne, here's the thing. When I think about the bloggers I've encountered, I picture a big dark globe and all of you bloggers are these bright little lights twinkling across the dark globe. There are the Canada lights, the California lights, the Massachusetts lights, the New York lights, the Florida light, South Carolina, New Orleans, Maine, Arizona, England, Wales. Yada Yada. As the box that Lily holds below says: "Each lamp burns independently."
There you all are, lamps burning bright, twinkling across the dark
globe, creating. So funny, such great writers, talented artists, gifted photographers, there you all are. In the peak time when we were all blogging a lot, the
collective, connected glow from us all felt very bright and warm. It made the globe less dark. And behind each of those lights, all of you
have big, real lives that go beyond that twinkling. I know a little bit
about some of you, and I know a little bit about you, Jayne. What I know about you has given me tremendous respect for you--as a mother, as a daughter, as a wife, and a really strong person with the best and darkest sense of humor I've ever experienced. Here's one of my favorite comments that you made on my blog once: "Be careful if you try and laugh gaily whilst throwing your head back in a becoming female manner. When I tried it, something clicked in my neck, I fell over, and I squashed a plate of ham sandwiches."
So, Jayne: Today I learned that you died. That feels incredibly unfair to me. I sit here sending good thoughts to your family. And I sit here thinking about you. Because I am thinking about you, I will do two things. I will ask people to consider donating their organs, because you asked them to consider doing that. And Jayne, I will tell you this: I will always remember you, I will never forget you, and your light will always be there twinkling across the dark globe for me. (Note: I believe you would be the first to point out that it would actually be a lot better to still be alive. I agree.)
Anyway, Jayne, here's the thing. When I think about the bloggers I've encountered, I picture a big dark globe and all of you bloggers are these bright little lights twinkling across the dark globe. There are the Canada lights, the California lights, the Massachusetts lights, the New York lights, the Florida light, South Carolina, New Orleans, Maine, Arizona, England, Wales. Yada Yada. As the box that Lily holds below says: "Each lamp burns independently."
So, Jayne: Today I learned that you died. That feels incredibly unfair to me. I sit here sending good thoughts to your family. And I sit here thinking about you. Because I am thinking about you, I will do two things. I will ask people to consider donating their organs, because you asked them to consider doing that. And Jayne, I will tell you this: I will always remember you, I will never forget you, and your light will always be there twinkling across the dark globe for me. (Note: I believe you would be the first to point out that it would actually be a lot better to still be alive. I agree.)
Incredible Infographics Explained by Algernon
Um, yeah. I am, um, Algernon. Others often volunteer me to do unpleasant things, and I am often sad about that. Today, it is my sad and unpleasant duty to try to explain this infographic.
Everybody should just eat cheese and not fight each other or get zapped by electricity. Eat Cheese.
Okay, my top 5 Takeaways are:
- Mice have nervous breakdowns? My heart has never ached for mice as much as it does right now.
- But, instead of having a nervous breakdown, that mouse looks like it got a cheap thrill by pressing the button. I am now very confused. I might be heading for a nervous breakdown involving pools of tears.
- Being an easy victim of Hitler looks hard: You gotta hold one leg up at a 90 degree angle. Ow. And only Hitler got to have hair--kind of a Donald Trump-like "Hair Awning," but at least hair.
- The Germans were very confused when the mouse became very confused and that caused WWII.
- At least the mouse got some cheese for awhile, man. Everybody else gets bubkes here.
Everybody should just eat cheese and not fight each other or get zapped by electricity. Eat Cheese.
Incredible Infographics Explained by Cappy
Hello! Cappy here. I've been known to hit the sauce a bit because everyone knows it is great for stress and general good times. So, I'll just give you a second to go mix me up a Harvey Wallbanger, and then we'll get started. As we know, Vitamin C is crucial to our health--so mix one up for you, too.
Thanks! Here's mud in your eye! Let's take a look at this Incredible Infographic and figure out our key takeaways. I think that...WAIT A GOSH DARN MINUTE HERE...what the heckamire is this?
Oh...whew. Sorry for flying off the handle. I think I've got this thing figured out. I was not hitherto familiar with the word "alcoholism," but alcoholism must be when you are lacking access to alcohol. Now this thing makes sense. Here are my key takeaways, and I'm sure they're yours, too...
1) #1 frame is missing a verb and some key words. "Educate community to sympathetic understanding." I would edit this to say: "Educate community to achieve a sympathic understanding that Cappy needs alcohol."
2) #2 frame is pretty straightforward. If Cappy gets sick, "Make medical treatment available and have a hot nurse bring Cappy a nice, big glass of booze."
3) #3 and #4 frames...that's all over my head, Professor. Where's the booze here? Stick to the point.
4) #5 frame. Now you're talkin', Professor! SUPPORT RESEARCH on how to get me more booze.
5) #6 frame. There's a frickin' TREE on top of the guy's frickin' HOUSE and he has a toxic waste-belching factory in the backyard. Whoever lives here needs a drink STAT.
TOP TAKEAWAY: I need another drink if you're gonna make me do this again. This stuff makes my mind all swimmy.
How To Write Telegrams Properly by Nelson E. Ross
Dagmar and Drew Draft A Telegram On Their Modern Word-Making Machine
Nelson E. Ross: "Naturally, there is a right way and a wrong way of wording telegrams."
Naturally!
Nelson E. Ross: "The right way is economical, the wrong way, wasteful."
Sure, okay!
Nelson E. Ross: "If the telegram is packed full of unnecessary words--words which might be omitted without impairing the sense of the message--the sender has been guilty of economic waste."
Schmeh. You just wasted 12 words in an attempt to clarify the term "unnecessary words." You, sir, YOU cannot teach me how to write a telegram. TRANSMISSION ENDED
Nelson E. Ross: "Naturally, there is a right way and a wrong way of wording telegrams."Naturally!
Nelson E. Ross: "The right way is economical, the wrong way, wasteful."
Sure, okay!
Nelson E. Ross: "If the telegram is packed full of unnecessary words--words which might be omitted without impairing the sense of the message--the sender has been guilty of economic waste."
Schmeh. You just wasted 12 words in an attempt to clarify the term "unnecessary words." You, sir, YOU cannot teach me how to write a telegram. TRANSMISSION ENDED
Gyps and Swindles to Watch Out For!
Hi-ho...Lester here! I like to maintain a sense of cautious hopefulness about life, but sometimes I read things that make me nervous.
For example, I have been catching up on current trends in crime. Things have changed a lot since my time, and I think it's good to be hopeful plus informed about possible stranger danger, y'know?
According to this pamphlet I'm reading, you people come up with some complicated schemes...I care about you, so I'll give you the list of things to watch out for:
1) "Doctor Buncombe's Magic Electro-Vitamin Belt"--I know, right? Sounds great to me, but I guess it is supposed to be a bad idea cooked up by flim-flam men...BTW: Be on the look-out for "Viola Cream," "Vit-O-Net," and "Gland-Glad," too (you don't want to know why, just take my word for it).
2) Anything that claims to cure: "Radio Ear," "Paralyzed Pores," "Germ Mask," and "Cheap Soap Complexion."
3) "Spanish Prisoner Fraud," "Canadian Slickers," and "Plantation Rackets."
4) Anyone that tries to sell you something related to "Gold from Ocean," "Height Increasing," "Hard Luck Stories," "Buried Treasures," "Popularity Contests," "Movie Screen Tests," and..."Panama Hats." I've always hoped to get a Panama hat--I think I'd look good in one--but my booklet says ix-nay, and I must say that has put the kibosh on my hopes...
Have a cautiously hopeful, yet informed, day!
1) "Doctor Buncombe's Magic Electro-Vitamin Belt"--I know, right? Sounds great to me, but I guess it is supposed to be a bad idea cooked up by flim-flam men...BTW: Be on the look-out for "Viola Cream," "Vit-O-Net," and "Gland-Glad," too (you don't want to know why, just take my word for it).
2) Anything that claims to cure: "Radio Ear," "Paralyzed Pores," "Germ Mask," and "Cheap Soap Complexion."
3) "Spanish Prisoner Fraud," "Canadian Slickers," and "Plantation Rackets."
4) Anyone that tries to sell you something related to "Gold from Ocean," "Height Increasing," "Hard Luck Stories," "Buried Treasures," "Popularity Contests," "Movie Screen Tests," and..."Panama Hats." I've always hoped to get a Panama hat--I think I'd look good in one--but my booklet says ix-nay, and I must say that has put the kibosh on my hopes...
Have a cautiously hopeful, yet informed, day!
Incredible Infographics Explained by Eli
Heigh-ho, I am Eli Ringtail-Tooter and I fight for justice every day except for Wednesdays. Each Wednesday, I bend my keen and agile legal mind to mastering the subtle art of decoupage.
Today, I'm here to explain how the pressure groups work (it's not enough to say "pressure groups," you need to say "the pressure groups"). First, what are YOUR key takeaways?
Okay: Is your takeaway that the pressure groups are stealthy, unprincipled mofos? SURE! That's one possible key takeaway. However, here are some other key takeaways:
1) You cannot have the pressure groups without a whole lot of the little rectangles and arrows.
2) If you take away the rectangles and arrows, you render the pressure groups powerless!
3) Be sure to take away the pressure groups' dark shading; they cannot be "under cover" without it.
4) Almost everyone in the pressure groups and general public is a blank-faced scary lookin' mofo.
5) Only propagandists have faces. They have two faces, plus a big diamond-shaped lollipop.
6) Are you a "front" or an "innocent"? I'm not sure which I am. It keeps me up at night.
7) Avoid all media. Death-ray-emitting radios that smite you in your armchair! Homicidal flying newspapers! Treacherously sliding billboards! Giant airborne textbooks!
Okay: Is your takeaway that the pressure groups are stealthy, unprincipled mofos? SURE! That's one possible key takeaway. However, here are some other key takeaways:
1) You cannot have the pressure groups without a whole lot of the little rectangles and arrows.
2) If you take away the rectangles and arrows, you render the pressure groups powerless!
3) Be sure to take away the pressure groups' dark shading; they cannot be "under cover" without it.
4) Almost everyone in the pressure groups and general public is a blank-faced scary lookin' mofo.
5) Only propagandists have faces. They have two faces, plus a big diamond-shaped lollipop.
6) Are you a "front" or an "innocent"? I'm not sure which I am. It keeps me up at night.
7) Avoid all media. Death-ray-emitting radios that smite you in your armchair! Homicidal flying newspapers! Treacherously sliding billboards! Giant airborne textbooks!
Incredible InfoGraphics Explained by Cappy
Ahoy there. I'm Cappy. This morning, I have already enjoyed several refreshing libations--Harvey Wallbangers, if you must know, because the orange juice is healthful in the a.m. My wits are keen, my analysis skills are laser sharp, and I am fully prepared to explain an extremely important Incredible Infographic to you!
First, what are YOUR key takeaways? I'll give you a few minutes to think about it while I go over and chat with my friend the bartender.
Okay. Are your takeaways that "Of every 20 epileptics who are not self-supporting 16 were found to be employable and of the remaining 4 one did not want to work, two according to their past records were not reliable, and only one could not work because of sickness"? WRONG! Here are the correct takeaways:
1) How are those 16 guys gonna fit into those tiny little boxes with the squiggly stuff on top?
2) How can those tiny little boxes with the squiggly stuff on top result in gainful employment?
3) Those 16 guys march well, this is true. But: Do they think they can fit in there? They worry me.
4) Mr. One Guy Who Did Not Want to Work is...Mr. SMARTEST GUY, yo! He knows he is not gonna be able to fit in those tiny little boxes. He just sits back and says, "No thanks, dude. I'm good."
5) Mr. Two Guys Who Were Not Reliable are...ALSO Mr. Smartest Guys! If being reliable makes you march off and try to squeeze yourself into tiny little boxes I say it is a poor idea to be reliable.
6) Mr. One Guy Who Could Not Work Because of Sickness is...ALSO Mr. Smartest Guy! Between you, me, and the barkeep: His sickness is due to trying to squish himself into tiny little boxes with the squiggly stuff on top. He is sick of that and he would rather roam the fjords. Go little sick guy GO!
Hark Dread Baby Bells, O My Joyous Shepherds!
Here are a few facts about Christmas carols and me.
(1) I know the words of a few of them. Like, the one that has "Batman smells" in it and the one that goes ding-a-ling, hear them ring.
(2) I will mumble and fake-sing Christmas carols if I do not know the words.
(3) I do not think there has ever been a Christmas-themed professional wrestler, has there? Okay, yes. This is off the topic of Christmas carols. But please apprise me if there has been a Christmas-themed professional wrestler. Hector Grinchinator?
Well, that went quickly. Let's move on. Did you know that there is a Christmas carol for every occasion? Here. Let me demonstrate. These are all real titles of Christmas carols.
1) A Dread Hath Come Upon Me
That's every Monday morning, right? Project deadlines? Tax season? It's the Christmas carol that keeps on giving dread year-round.
2) A Voice from the Desert Comes Awful and Shrill
I have no idea what this one is about, but all I'm thinking of is this:
3) At the Beginning of the Meat
Sure...
4) Where Is That Goodly Fragrance Flowing?
Almost always from the FebrezeTM bottle
5) The Kiges Baner on Felde is Playd
Okay, you can go ahead and call it a "Middle Englishe Carole." I'm calling it a freakin' text message.
6) Lacking Samite and Sable
Sounds like a craigslist ad to me, followed by ...Will trade Mimite and Mink for same.
There should definitely be a Christmas carol random generator, don'tcha think? Here are the top words that you can combine to make your own Christmas carol. I advise adding a question mark, 'cause many carols are basically rhetorical questions.
MAKE YOUR OWN CAROL BY MIXING 'N MATCHING THESE WORDS...HOURS OF FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY!
Holly Hark Bells Baby Dread Jolly Wonder Snow O'er Merrye O Hail Joyous Upon Virgin Sweet Shepherds Santa Christmas Ring Doth Yon My Silvery Holy !
Here's mine: Hark Dread Baby Bells, O My Joyous Shepherds!
(1) I know the words of a few of them. Like, the one that has "Batman smells" in it and the one that goes ding-a-ling, hear them ring.
(2) I will mumble and fake-sing Christmas carols if I do not know the words.
(3) I do not think there has ever been a Christmas-themed professional wrestler, has there? Okay, yes. This is off the topic of Christmas carols. But please apprise me if there has been a Christmas-themed professional wrestler. Hector Grinchinator?
Well, that went quickly. Let's move on. Did you know that there is a Christmas carol for every occasion? Here. Let me demonstrate. These are all real titles of Christmas carols.
1) A Dread Hath Come Upon Me
That's every Monday morning, right? Project deadlines? Tax season? It's the Christmas carol that keeps on giving dread year-round.
2) A Voice from the Desert Comes Awful and Shrill
I have no idea what this one is about, but all I'm thinking of is this:
3) At the Beginning of the Meat
Sure...
4) Where Is That Goodly Fragrance Flowing?
Almost always from the FebrezeTM bottle
5) The Kiges Baner on Felde is Playd
Okay, you can go ahead and call it a "Middle Englishe Carole." I'm calling it a freakin' text message.
6) Lacking Samite and Sable
Sounds like a craigslist ad to me, followed by ...Will trade Mimite and Mink for same.
There should definitely be a Christmas carol random generator, don'tcha think? Here are the top words that you can combine to make your own Christmas carol. I advise adding a question mark, 'cause many carols are basically rhetorical questions.
MAKE YOUR OWN CAROL BY MIXING 'N MATCHING THESE WORDS...HOURS OF FUN FOR THE WHOLE FAMILY!
Holly Hark Bells Baby Dread Jolly Wonder Snow O'er Merrye O Hail Joyous Upon Virgin Sweet Shepherds Santa Christmas Ring Doth Yon My Silvery Holy !
Here's mine: Hark Dread Baby Bells, O My Joyous Shepherds!
Turn Your Dog Into A Small Wolf in 7 Easy Steps!
STEP 1: "Sure! It IS a nice day outside. Let's go outside and frolic."
STEP 2: "So, whaddya feel like doing? Maybe a little needlepoint? Oh, puppy tug. Sure, you'd like to play some puppy tug?"
STEP 3: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?!"
STEP 4: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?"
STEP 5: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?"
STEP 6: "Well, this was fun. But, it's time to head back inside. Uh, hello?"
STEP 7: "Sweet Jiminy Christmas. One Adam 12, see the Cujo...Cujo in progress in backyard.*"
*She's actually really happy in this picture, but it's a bit scary-looking. The white on her chin and on her chest kind of blend together and look like a crazy beard.
STEP 2: "So, whaddya feel like doing? Maybe a little needlepoint? Oh, puppy tug. Sure, you'd like to play some puppy tug?"
STEP 3: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?!"
STEP 4: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?"
STEP 5: "Well, you sure do like this, huh?"
STEP 6: "Well, this was fun. But, it's time to head back inside. Uh, hello?"
STEP 7: "Sweet Jiminy Christmas. One Adam 12, see the Cujo...Cujo in progress in backyard.*"
*She's actually really happy in this picture, but it's a bit scary-looking. The white on her chin and on her chest kind of blend together and look like a crazy beard.
My Hippie Classroom
I was in what was called "a hippie classroom" or "an open classroom" for a few years back in the day. No, I wasn't in reform school. No, I wasn't in "special school." I was just in a hippie classroom for a few years. Righteous! Solid! Dance with me, Star Flower! Or, better yet, let's just hide in the corner here and read Tin Tin, Peanuts, and Asterix and Obelix until the tribal drumming stops!
Aw, really. I pretty much liked my hippie classroom; I would have been shy no matter where I was. Sure, I hated the twice daily "sharing circles" (according to my old report cards, which are written in purple ink in very loopy calligraphy and are all about 10 pages long, I tended to read during sharing circles--which was not seen as very social, but which I made up for by volunteering with the elderly). But, we spent some cool time "having groovy math and science experiences." We played Capture the Flag a lot and did Art Adventures. We roamed freely outside like packs of wild dogs. We sang--usually stuff by the Guthrie family (Arlo, Woody, and the little-know techno Guthrie, DJ Luther Luther). And, we were asked to write in our little journals constantly.
After a quick glance at a representative sample of my journals from those days, I can tell you that I used to make my exclamation points with little triangles over the dots. I can also tell you that my teachers were not paid enough to read my journals. They are extremely boring. Even I was bored, I fear, because I began each entry by calling myself something different: Dear Sparkle, Dear Miss Plenty, Dear Sparkle Plenty, Dear Journal Writer, Dear You Know Who, Dear Me. Exactly: Dear Me! Look: It's possible to run out of self-reflective commentary when you're 10, okay?
Here, for the benefit of all, I present a little anti-Santa essay that I wrote back in the day. When I wrote this essay, I didn't believe a word of it--perhaps you will note this in the opening disclaimer and my attempts at sarcasm. I believe that you might also detect a certain Marxist vein in this essay--I link this to my social studies teacher, we'll call him "Dude," who spent a couple of years working in factories. I know far too much about food impurity thanks to "Dude" and, to this day, I avoid certain canned goods.
Let the fun begin! Here, for your shock and awe, is my Oppressive Device Essay.
[On this first page, I am struck by the gigantic paragraph indentations. Whassup, young Sparkle? Also, looks like somebody likes to underline words!]
[You can't wait, can you? You're on the edge of your seat, aren't you? "Speaking of smell, that piney..." Look out, 'though, that sentence will break your heart. It's a fragment.]
[Good ol' Saint Hick? I don't smell sweet and sticky Christmas trees--I smell Mad magazine! Bonus Question: Is it wrong for me to still still be attracted to the term "still still"? I remember liking it back in the day--one "still" was never enough for me--but it's still still so wrong it can't be right. Sigh.]
[Uh, no. I never DID get tired of those "saccharin Christmas specials" and "stupid carols." And, as long as we've got a sharing circle going here, I need to confess something else. If I were to draw a Christmas tree and an elf, they would still still come out looking like the ones above. Sigh.]
Okay. I'm off to have a sharing circle with myself and try to plot my next blog move.
Aw, really. I pretty much liked my hippie classroom; I would have been shy no matter where I was. Sure, I hated the twice daily "sharing circles" (according to my old report cards, which are written in purple ink in very loopy calligraphy and are all about 10 pages long, I tended to read during sharing circles--which was not seen as very social, but which I made up for by volunteering with the elderly). But, we spent some cool time "having groovy math and science experiences." We played Capture the Flag a lot and did Art Adventures. We roamed freely outside like packs of wild dogs. We sang--usually stuff by the Guthrie family (Arlo, Woody, and the little-know techno Guthrie, DJ Luther Luther). And, we were asked to write in our little journals constantly.
After a quick glance at a representative sample of my journals from those days, I can tell you that I used to make my exclamation points with little triangles over the dots. I can also tell you that my teachers were not paid enough to read my journals. They are extremely boring. Even I was bored, I fear, because I began each entry by calling myself something different: Dear Sparkle, Dear Miss Plenty, Dear Sparkle Plenty, Dear Journal Writer, Dear You Know Who, Dear Me. Exactly: Dear Me! Look: It's possible to run out of self-reflective commentary when you're 10, okay?
Here, for the benefit of all, I present a little anti-Santa essay that I wrote back in the day. When I wrote this essay, I didn't believe a word of it--perhaps you will note this in the opening disclaimer and my attempts at sarcasm. I believe that you might also detect a certain Marxist vein in this essay--I link this to my social studies teacher, we'll call him "Dude," who spent a couple of years working in factories. I know far too much about food impurity thanks to "Dude" and, to this day, I avoid certain canned goods.
Let the fun begin! Here, for your shock and awe, is my Oppressive Device Essay.
[On this first page, I am struck by the gigantic paragraph indentations. Whassup, young Sparkle? Also, looks like somebody likes to underline words!]
[You can't wait, can you? You're on the edge of your seat, aren't you? "Speaking of smell, that piney..." Look out, 'though, that sentence will break your heart. It's a fragment.]
[Good ol' Saint Hick? I don't smell sweet and sticky Christmas trees--I smell Mad magazine! Bonus Question: Is it wrong for me to still still be attracted to the term "still still"? I remember liking it back in the day--one "still" was never enough for me--but it's still still so wrong it can't be right. Sigh.]
[Uh, no. I never DID get tired of those "saccharin Christmas specials" and "stupid carols." And, as long as we've got a sharing circle going here, I need to confess something else. If I were to draw a Christmas tree and an elf, they would still still come out looking like the ones above. Sigh.]Okay. I'm off to have a sharing circle with myself and try to plot my next blog move.
What Crackers Did You Eat When You Were A Kid?
Vermont Common Crackers
What to Know:1) These are the world's plainest crackers. If you have to snack on them, you can pretend you're a sailor and you're marooned on a desert island eating sweet, life-sustaining hardtack. "Thank goodness I have this floury, pasty, bland goodness to keep up my strength!" you cry. This little fantasy helps add flavor to the cracker.
2) Vermont Common Crackers are made in Vermont.
3) I do not believe that there are any other crackers named for states.
4) Vermont Common Crackers are fun to smash with a hammer.
5) I ate these because my grandmother was from Vermont. She called them "cross crackers"; they're also known as Montpelier crackers.
6) She liked to eat the crackers straight from the bag, but she also toasted them in the oven with butter or cheese--never both.
Ritz Crackers
What to Know:1) According to Wikipedia, "Ritz crackers are a type of cracker designed to be eaten on their own, or with a topping." Wikipedia entries are a little obvious sometimes.
2) Ritz crackers were my sister's favorite as a kid, while I favored Saltines. I chose Saltines on my own. However, my sister occasionally assigned me stuff to like. For example, she selected John Lennon and George Harrison as her favorite Beatles and strongly suggested that I choose Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. Eventually, she assigned my mother to like George and my grandmother to like Ringo. In fact, my grandmother genuinely began to like Ringo Starr and to request that we buy her his music for birthdays and such. The "No-No Song" worried her: "I hope he's all right," she'd say, peering at his most recent photograph through her bifocals.
3) My grandmother sliced marshmallows in half, put the marshmallow half on a Ritz cracker, pressed a walnut half on top of that, and broiled it. We ate these when we played Whist.
4) Whist is a card game.
5) My sister once dared me to eat an earwig on a Ritz cracker. I don't think I did. My memory is dim.
Graham Crackers
What to Know:
1) Sure, s'mores. But, I always think of graham cracker "sandwiches" filled with Skippy chunky peanut butter, next to a small dish of applesauce, and accompanied by a cup of cold milk.
2) While babysitting, I probably saw more graham cracker mud smeared on children's faces than any other food.
3) I believe that graham cracker crusts are the single-most popular foundation for Quick and Easy desserts involving pudding, cool whip, cream cheese, ice cream, jello, or any combination of the above.
4) Would it be revolting to eat cream cheese and olive spread on a graham cracker? Someone once recommended I eat cream cheese and olive spread on a cinnamon/raisin bagel. It didn't suck.
5) Graham Chapman invented the graham cracker.
6) So did Martha Graham.
Melba Toast
What to Know:
1) A box of this could last in the cupboard for five years.
2) It is neither melba nor the kind of toast you want to invite to breakfast.
3) This was the core ingredient of diets back in the day. Some of my cookbooks from the 1950s have sample diets. They go like this: Breakfast: 1/2 cup cereal, 1/2 cup milk, black coffee. Lunch: Two slices melba toast, 1 wedge iceberg lettuce, 1 hard-boiled egg, black coffee. Dinner: 1 lean veal chop, 1 tomato with mineral oil dressing, black coffee.
4) I think that "Melba Toast" is the name of a country western singer, a band, and at least one drag queen.
5) I ate one once when we were out of all the good crackers.
Chicken in a Biskit
What to Know:
1) I think I only ate these once, on a road trip to visit our crud-boy cousins. I'd never seen them before, and they were very exotic to me. I was fascinated by the dark magic of a chicken being inside a box of crackers. I didn't like the taste of the crackers that much--although there was a bit of an addictive kick probably from MSG. I really liked the color of the box. Plus, the chicken looked so shocked about being crammed into a biskit. It wasn't all smiley like most creatures on food packages. Clearly, it was crying out, "Dang! I'm in these biskits!"
2) After the road trip, I often requested that we buy Chicken in a Biskit crackers. Unfortunately, I didn't have a really good answer to the question, "Why? You don't really like those, do you?" I think that instead of eating a Chicken in a Biskit "flavored cracker," I really wanted us to go on a road trip.
3) From my brief Web search, it appears that Chicken in a Biskit is now wildly popular for young people who have "the munchies." I would have thought the chicken would be scary under these circumstances?
4) Is that CAVIAR on one of the crackers on the cover of the box or is it potting soil?
5) Wonder why they never tried Brisket in a Biskit. Seems like a natural to me.
What to Know:1) These are the world's plainest crackers. If you have to snack on them, you can pretend you're a sailor and you're marooned on a desert island eating sweet, life-sustaining hardtack. "Thank goodness I have this floury, pasty, bland goodness to keep up my strength!" you cry. This little fantasy helps add flavor to the cracker.
2) Vermont Common Crackers are made in Vermont.
3) I do not believe that there are any other crackers named for states.
4) Vermont Common Crackers are fun to smash with a hammer.
5) I ate these because my grandmother was from Vermont. She called them "cross crackers"; they're also known as Montpelier crackers.
6) She liked to eat the crackers straight from the bag, but she also toasted them in the oven with butter or cheese--never both.
Ritz CrackersWhat to Know:1) According to Wikipedia, "Ritz crackers are a type of cracker designed to be eaten on their own, or with a topping." Wikipedia entries are a little obvious sometimes.
2) Ritz crackers were my sister's favorite as a kid, while I favored Saltines. I chose Saltines on my own. However, my sister occasionally assigned me stuff to like. For example, she selected John Lennon and George Harrison as her favorite Beatles and strongly suggested that I choose Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr. Eventually, she assigned my mother to like George and my grandmother to like Ringo. In fact, my grandmother genuinely began to like Ringo Starr and to request that we buy her his music for birthdays and such. The "No-No Song" worried her: "I hope he's all right," she'd say, peering at his most recent photograph through her bifocals.
3) My grandmother sliced marshmallows in half, put the marshmallow half on a Ritz cracker, pressed a walnut half on top of that, and broiled it. We ate these when we played Whist.
4) Whist is a card game.
5) My sister once dared me to eat an earwig on a Ritz cracker. I don't think I did. My memory is dim.
Graham CrackersWhat to Know:
1) Sure, s'mores. But, I always think of graham cracker "sandwiches" filled with Skippy chunky peanut butter, next to a small dish of applesauce, and accompanied by a cup of cold milk.
2) While babysitting, I probably saw more graham cracker mud smeared on children's faces than any other food.
3) I believe that graham cracker crusts are the single-most popular foundation for Quick and Easy desserts involving pudding, cool whip, cream cheese, ice cream, jello, or any combination of the above.
4) Would it be revolting to eat cream cheese and olive spread on a graham cracker? Someone once recommended I eat cream cheese and olive spread on a cinnamon/raisin bagel. It didn't suck.
5) Graham Chapman invented the graham cracker.
6) So did Martha Graham.
Melba ToastWhat to Know:
1) A box of this could last in the cupboard for five years.
2) It is neither melba nor the kind of toast you want to invite to breakfast.
3) This was the core ingredient of diets back in the day. Some of my cookbooks from the 1950s have sample diets. They go like this: Breakfast: 1/2 cup cereal, 1/2 cup milk, black coffee. Lunch: Two slices melba toast, 1 wedge iceberg lettuce, 1 hard-boiled egg, black coffee. Dinner: 1 lean veal chop, 1 tomato with mineral oil dressing, black coffee.
4) I think that "Melba Toast" is the name of a country western singer, a band, and at least one drag queen.
5) I ate one once when we were out of all the good crackers.
Chicken in a BiskitWhat to Know:
1) I think I only ate these once, on a road trip to visit our crud-boy cousins. I'd never seen them before, and they were very exotic to me. I was fascinated by the dark magic of a chicken being inside a box of crackers. I didn't like the taste of the crackers that much--although there was a bit of an addictive kick probably from MSG. I really liked the color of the box. Plus, the chicken looked so shocked about being crammed into a biskit. It wasn't all smiley like most creatures on food packages. Clearly, it was crying out, "Dang! I'm in these biskits!"
2) After the road trip, I often requested that we buy Chicken in a Biskit crackers. Unfortunately, I didn't have a really good answer to the question, "Why? You don't really like those, do you?" I think that instead of eating a Chicken in a Biskit "flavored cracker," I really wanted us to go on a road trip.3) From my brief Web search, it appears that Chicken in a Biskit is now wildly popular for young people who have "the munchies." I would have thought the chicken would be scary under these circumstances?
4) Is that CAVIAR on one of the crackers on the cover of the box or is it potting soil?
5) Wonder why they never tried Brisket in a Biskit. Seems like a natural to me.
Dear Ms. Sims: Please Write About Sea Monkeys Instead
Dear Ms. Sims,
DUDE. What is WRONG with you? It takes a lot to get me riled up. You, madam, and I use that word advisedly, have done so.
WTF?! This is my Cousin Ralph, and Ralph does not look right in this picture. Nothing looks right about Ralph. Even his poor little feet look all weird.
I don't want to sound overly harsh, because I appreciate creative endeavors of all sorts, so let me try to approach this with great delicacy. How dare you pimp out Ralph, you vile infidel? Ralph is not very bright, but before this all he liked to do was collect bookmarks. Plus, he liked cheese curls. Those two things--nothing sketchy.
We are not afraid to work blue on Dinosaur Casserole, but DUDE...this is not right. What did you do to Ralph? What did you do to Ralph's poor little shriveled feet?
The chick looks okay--but please explain something. According to your book's description on Amazon.com, "Dianne is a shepherd watching over flock of sheep." How many shepherds do you know who wear bikinis? (I know zero shepherds who wear bikinis.) All of the shepherds that I know (and I know a lot) wear thick sweaters (made of wool).
When you say "watching over flock of sheep," did you get all excited by the plot and leave out a key pronoun? Is this Dianne's flock of sheep? If it is not Dianne's flock of sheep, maybe that's why she's wearing the bikini? She's a stewardess, maybe, and not a shepherd? I could accept that.
"But when a flock of pterodactyls attack, Dianne has no choice but to use herself as bait to draw their attention away from her precious flock." Okay...okay...We have two flocks here--we're working with two flocks of different species and it's very, very confusing. Can you please rewrite this? And, so..okay...this IS Dianne's flock of sheep? Instead of confusing poor Ralph and prancing around in her yellow bikini (that no shepherd has ever owned or worn) why doesn't she simply direct the poor, starving pterodactyls to the nearest Burger King? They love Burger King. Taco Bell will do in a pinch. Really: No need to strip down and confuse Ralph.
Furthermore, in your description of "T-Rex Troubles," did you HAVE to say "Warning: This is a tale of monster sex." T-Rex does NOT consider himself to be a monster, so unless you are referring to "Layla" who "hunts for her tribe" as a monster, you've got a lawsuit on your hands, missy.
Look. I'm begging you. Stop writing about us. Stop this reign of dino porn terror. Stop it right now. Sea Monkeys. Go write about Sea Monkeys, okay? Go ahead and call them monsters--they won't care, they're defiant types.
Sincerely,
Charlie-Bob
DUDE. What is WRONG with you? It takes a lot to get me riled up. You, madam, and I use that word advisedly, have done so.
WTF?! This is my Cousin Ralph, and Ralph does not look right in this picture. Nothing looks right about Ralph. Even his poor little feet look all weird.
I don't want to sound overly harsh, because I appreciate creative endeavors of all sorts, so let me try to approach this with great delicacy. How dare you pimp out Ralph, you vile infidel? Ralph is not very bright, but before this all he liked to do was collect bookmarks. Plus, he liked cheese curls. Those two things--nothing sketchy.
We are not afraid to work blue on Dinosaur Casserole, but DUDE...this is not right. What did you do to Ralph? What did you do to Ralph's poor little shriveled feet?
The chick looks okay--but please explain something. According to your book's description on Amazon.com, "Dianne is a shepherd watching over flock of sheep." How many shepherds do you know who wear bikinis? (I know zero shepherds who wear bikinis.) All of the shepherds that I know (and I know a lot) wear thick sweaters (made of wool).
When you say "watching over flock of sheep," did you get all excited by the plot and leave out a key pronoun? Is this Dianne's flock of sheep? If it is not Dianne's flock of sheep, maybe that's why she's wearing the bikini? She's a stewardess, maybe, and not a shepherd? I could accept that.
"But when a flock of pterodactyls attack, Dianne has no choice but to use herself as bait to draw their attention away from her precious flock." Okay...okay...We have two flocks here--we're working with two flocks of different species and it's very, very confusing. Can you please rewrite this? And, so..okay...this IS Dianne's flock of sheep? Instead of confusing poor Ralph and prancing around in her yellow bikini (that no shepherd has ever owned or worn) why doesn't she simply direct the poor, starving pterodactyls to the nearest Burger King? They love Burger King. Taco Bell will do in a pinch. Really: No need to strip down and confuse Ralph.
Furthermore, in your description of "T-Rex Troubles," did you HAVE to say "Warning: This is a tale of monster sex." T-Rex does NOT consider himself to be a monster, so unless you are referring to "Layla" who "hunts for her tribe" as a monster, you've got a lawsuit on your hands, missy.
Look. I'm begging you. Stop writing about us. Stop this reign of dino porn terror. Stop it right now. Sea Monkeys. Go write about Sea Monkeys, okay? Go ahead and call them monsters--they won't care, they're defiant types.
Sincerely,
Charlie-Bob
Dinosaurs: Extinct! Or ARE They...
Well, hello there! I am Leopold (green guy) and these are my pals Cappy, Penrose, and Einstein. Okay, enough with the nicety-nice. I have something important I want you to think about.
1) Do you believe dinosaurs are extinct? I do not believe that dinosaurs are extinct. I am a dinosaur. Shouldn't that prove something?
2) Do you believe dinosaurs are extinct because you've never seen one? Okay. Have you really LOOKED for us? Have you, personally, checked the Carpathian Mountains? Yeah. I didn't think so. You can't even keep track of your car keys, why would you be able to find us in the Carpathian Mountains?
3) Over the years, paleontologists have done us a good deal of damage with their wild-eyed talk of extinction. I'm trying to get a grant to do some re-branding work for dinosaurs. Do you have any recommendations for slogans? I'm playing with, "Dinosaurs...if you can't find your keys you won't be able to find us!" That's not so catchy, but I'm working on it.
The Incredible Spam Poem
Today, I received yet another spam-mail penis poem. I never thought I'd find myself typing those words, but clearly my imagination has limitations. This is the most finely-crafted piece of spam I've every received.
Prepare Your Magic Love Wand for the Next Battle by Anonymous (date unknown) [WITH MY ANNOTATIONS]
At last you've got a girl that's hot [STRONG START! A HAPPY BEGINNING]
You wanna screw her moistened [OCEAN STATE JOB LOT]
She's so attractive, she's so nice! [BUT NOT TOO NICE HOPEFULLY]
But would your penile size suffice? [SUFFICE! I LOVE IT! SUFFICE!]
Not sure she will wish for more? [STORM CLOUDS GATHER]
You need a thing she would adore! [OTHER THAN YOUR ACTION FIGURES?]
But how to grow it long and thick? [MIRACLE-GRO?]
Your only hope is MegaDik! [HUH? WHO'S HE?!]
You'll get so wanted super-size [AWKWARD. SUGGEST YOU TWEAK.]
And see great pleasure in her eyes! [OR SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE HER CONTACTS IN.]
Your shaft will stuff her [TURKEY] so deep,
Tonight you'll hardly fall asleep! [LIKE CHRISTMAS EVE!]
So try today this magic p'ill [P'ILL? Is that S'POSED TO BE OLDE ENGLISH?]
And change your life at your own will! [NOW THAT'S A HAPPY ENDING.]
*When I receive a good spam-mail lady part poem, I will give it equal time here. That is my pledge.
Prepare Your Magic Love Wand for the Next Battle by Anonymous (date unknown) [WITH MY ANNOTATIONS]
At last you've got a girl that's hot [STRONG START! A HAPPY BEGINNING]
You wanna screw her moistened [OCEAN STATE JOB LOT]
She's so attractive, she's so nice! [BUT NOT TOO NICE HOPEFULLY]
But would your penile size suffice? [SUFFICE! I LOVE IT! SUFFICE!]
Not sure she will wish for more? [STORM CLOUDS GATHER]
You need a thing she would adore! [OTHER THAN YOUR ACTION FIGURES?]
But how to grow it long and thick? [MIRACLE-GRO?]
Your only hope is MegaDik! [HUH? WHO'S HE?!]
You'll get so wanted super-size [AWKWARD. SUGGEST YOU TWEAK.]
And see great pleasure in her eyes! [OR SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE HER CONTACTS IN.]
Your shaft will stuff her [TURKEY] so deep,
Tonight you'll hardly fall asleep! [LIKE CHRISTMAS EVE!]
So try today this magic p'ill [P'ILL? Is that S'POSED TO BE OLDE ENGLISH?]
And change your life at your own will! [NOW THAT'S A HAPPY ENDING.]
*When I receive a good spam-mail lady part poem, I will give it equal time here. That is my pledge.
The Myths and Realities of World War II
Have you heard about the key role that dinosaurs played during World War II? The little known reality was shown in this fine Nova program recently:
Throughout World War II, an elite unit of flying dinosaurs closely followed Hitler wherever he went and crapped all over him. It was an incredible nuisance, frayed his nerves considerably, and served as a powerful propaganda (or "poopaganda," as they laughingly called it) tool for the British. "For poo and queen!" was the dinos' rallying cry, and they received a hero's welcome whenever they flew back into London for some badly needed R&R (they liked to float around in the Thames, drinking lager and cooling their ragged wings).
Doesn't this explain a lot? For example, now you know why Hitler's hair always looks so limp and plastered down in every photo you've seen of him. Lack of advanced mousse product? Dippity-Doo and Vitalis overdose? Oh, no no no. It was the grim duty of a squad of young SS operatives to hose the dino poop off him every 20 minutes or so, and his hair was always sopping wet.
So! Now you know! What? You're not going to take my word for it? Okay. No problem. Here is sound photographic documentation (if you insist):
That's Flyboy Bletchley up there, known for singing the musical hits of the day as he let loose over Hitler. Of course, dinosaurs were also hard at work elsewhere in the service--while they did not make good spies, due to their large size and inability to effectively infiltrate enemy strongholds, many were hard at work in poopaganda mills. They came up with this one:
(You can tell they were a little poo-obsessed.)
As well as this one:
The dinosaurs were VERY insistent about car-sharing clubs. In an interview with the BBC, Alf Weatherall, a World War II vet and retired salesman from Quidnamhampnamshire, noted "The dinosaur chappies were awfully particular about that car-sharing club campaign. Pushed it through, they did. They just kept muttering stuff about 'wasting fossil fuels.' Dead sensitive about it, they were."
History! Delicious served alone or with a side of fried potatoes! Get some today!
Throughout World War II, an elite unit of flying dinosaurs closely followed Hitler wherever he went and crapped all over him. It was an incredible nuisance, frayed his nerves considerably, and served as a powerful propaganda (or "poopaganda," as they laughingly called it) tool for the British. "For poo and queen!" was the dinos' rallying cry, and they received a hero's welcome whenever they flew back into London for some badly needed R&R (they liked to float around in the Thames, drinking lager and cooling their ragged wings).Doesn't this explain a lot? For example, now you know why Hitler's hair always looks so limp and plastered down in every photo you've seen of him. Lack of advanced mousse product? Dippity-Doo and Vitalis overdose? Oh, no no no. It was the grim duty of a squad of young SS operatives to hose the dino poop off him every 20 minutes or so, and his hair was always sopping wet.
So! Now you know! What? You're not going to take my word for it? Okay. No problem. Here is sound photographic documentation (if you insist):
That's Flyboy Bletchley up there, known for singing the musical hits of the day as he let loose over Hitler. Of course, dinosaurs were also hard at work elsewhere in the service--while they did not make good spies, due to their large size and inability to effectively infiltrate enemy strongholds, many were hard at work in poopaganda mills. They came up with this one:
(You can tell they were a little poo-obsessed.)As well as this one:
The dinosaurs were VERY insistent about car-sharing clubs. In an interview with the BBC, Alf Weatherall, a World War II vet and retired salesman from Quidnamhampnamshire, noted "The dinosaur chappies were awfully particular about that car-sharing club campaign. Pushed it through, they did. They just kept muttering stuff about 'wasting fossil fuels.' Dead sensitive about it, they were."History! Delicious served alone or with a side of fried potatoes! Get some today!
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