Sunday, September 28, 2008

Hair pulling may not be manly, but it’s very effective

Source: Dexter, 2nd Season

We just finished watching the 2nd season on DVD. Not nearly as good as the 1st season, possibly because they seem to have left the Dexter books entirely behind. Dexter spent a whole lot of time being the cost of killing people who needed killing.

But, as usual, there were a lot of great one-liners. For those of you with Showtime, Season 3 premiered tonight.

Rosh Hashannah starts on Monday night, so I'll be gone for a couple of days.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Somewhere without investment bankers and...erotomaniacs...

Source: Final Jeopardy, Linda Fairstein

The protagonist identifies this mythical place as Wyoming as she's trying to get out of the clutches of the killer. Makes you wonder on a real day which is better and which is worse.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Even mental illness sounds better in French

>Source: Final Jeopardy, Linda Fairstein
Ah, I just LURVE the exquisite drama!! Except that I really have none. I'm perky, I have a new camera (which means pictures of the new kitchen will be forthcoming tonight dear Bastard), and Mike got an unexpected bonus check.

Of course, I went to buy an MP3 player yesterday and I'm extremely disappointed in the ZUNE. It's got a far superior hardware interface in my opinion. Easy to navigate, FM tuner, wireless. The screen is twice the size of the iPod classic and it's the same price as the comparable size iPod. But you can only access it through the ZUNE software (which is not the case with iPod and iTunes contrary to popular opinion). ZUNE software? The most unfathomably craptastic music interface since Windows Media 0.1. And MS has gone pretty damned far out of it's way to lock down any workaround hacks that makes it less horrifying. Anyone in Redmond wondering why the iPod is still dominating the market??

Perky, perky Debi. Run away.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Hook Tuneup Palin

This is what I would have been named if I'd had the great fortune to be born to Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin. At least according to the Sarah Palin Baby Name Generator. After 5 kids, she's come up with good ones on her own: Track, Trig, Bristol, Willow, and Piper.

Mine wasn't NEARLY as interesting as others. The Bastard Neil is dubbed Bash Budweiser Palin. Except that according to his Bastard nature, he'd probably drink Bud in my presence JUST to piss me off. Chris? Yeah, he's Froth Moonshine Palin. But Mike is truly the best. Yes, friends, I could have been married to none other than Hump Gizzards Palin. Beat that one. did they get the food and drink references and I got the hardware one? Especially since the Bastard Neil maintains I'm not the wrench wielding type and all.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Come to the dark side. We have cookies.

Source: Bumper sticker spied last week
Since my AMAZING FRIGGIN' BLACKBERRY has no camera, I had to call The Bastard Neil to tell him about this one. He is apparently unimpressed as he has not replied. Chris is similarly unimpressed. As is Mike. What the heck? These people obviously know no better.

I'm sick. I have a headache and intermittant body aches and whilst my sore throat is better, suffice to say it's not fully healed. Damn it. I was planning on this being a 24 hour bug...we're entering hour, what, um, let's see...Thursday night and it's Sunday morning...ah, hell, I don't feel well enough to do the math. Did I mention that I don't feel good?

Update: "Come DO the Dark Side was funnier." Especially if you consider the Cookie Monster, a drunk Uncle and a mechanical bull. Maybe in the Bastard's apartment. DAMN I need some therapy now.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Yeah, you can help me. Go f*ck yourself!

Source: Final Jeopardy, Linda Fairstein

Luckily, I'd just pulled up to the house when this little gem emanated from speakers. Or I was just leaving, one of the two. It was directed to that co-worker who WANTS you to fail and you know it, but they have to look good. Not in that co-worker's presence, OBVIOUSLY.

So, apparently I'm feeling a bit strident and proud today. Eh, I always do my best work then, so I guess it's a win-win.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Clay Bonbons and Blue Moroccans

IT IS DONE! THE KITCHEN IS DONE! After more than two weeks of work (I wasn't here for one), the painting is complete. We used Mythic paint, which rocks. Mike chose the colors. Honestly. Bonbon Blue with Moroccan Clay trim. Yes, AND it even matches an old Starbucks bowl of mine from MANY years ago.

It is beautiful, fabulous, wonderful perfection. It's even got stuff back in it. Not everything, but we've got part of the living room back. And in theory, we can stop eating take out. Especially since that paint was bloody expensive. And the new sander. And the tape. And the new hinges. And this. And that...

Coming soon, the Casa de Carne Kitchen Warming!

I’d rather set my hair on fire and beat the flames out with a hammer

The Torment of Others, Val McDermid
One of those lines spoken in an audio book where I had to pull over to write it down it was so funny.

This book features the most unique twist on serial killing that I've ever encountered. Outrageous and inconceivable, and yet utterly believable every step of the way. It's not the most tightly written piece of fiction, but it was very enjoyable.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Man rubbed with spices, other beaten with sausage

Well, The Bastard Neil doesn't seem to be on his way back to Seattle just yet, but he did send something "for the WTF? collection". It would seem that in Fresno, "A stranger broke into a home east of Fresno, rubbed spices on the body of one of two men as they slept and used an 8-inch sausage to whack the other man in the face and head before he fled, Fresno County sheriff's deputies said Saturday." All Mike had to ask was how one gets rubbed with spices without waking up. Yep, I think that sums it entirely up. Except that an 8-inch sausage doesn't seem like it would give you a lot to whack someone with if you had a grip on it. Damn, so many innuendos, so little time. My brain hurts.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Do you have any idea how tight a rat’s rectum is?

Source: Bones
This is one of Mom's favorite shows. I was busy either reading one of the Twilight series (probably the last one, Breaking Dawn) or actually working away on my laptop, but she was watching this. At some point, there was some evidence that some rats had swallowed. I think there was a debate among the techs as to how to get the evidence out: the "natural" method or the dissection method. The curly headed guy busts out with this quote. And I had to write it down.

I'm so exhausted from Florida. The heat took it the hell out of me. Next week, I'll be back to my hysterical self.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Long Story short, goats are not reusable

Source: "Sordid Sorters' Tales" in the September 2008 issue of Real Simple magazine
Apparently, it's not unusual for a squirrel or other unidentified ball of dead fur to end up in a recycling center for sorters to find. However, a goat? Not something that can easily "fall in" a recycle bin, cart, dumpster... recycling center. The short blurb doesn't say anything about the condition of the goat, but does assure us that goats are not reusable. I think they mean recyclable, because wasn't kick the can originally played with a goat's head?

Caribou Barbie

This is the funniest name I've heard to describe the Republican candidate for Vice President. No, I don't think it's diminishing her as a woman. Hell, for all my education, accomplishments, and intelligence, I'd still be thrilled to be called a Barbie. So sue me. For all the things that appall me about her, I think she may actually have her own sense of humor. And again, for all that I don't agree with her, I think she's got brains and a set of brass ovaries. Combined with the standard degree of political blindness that I think all politicians have.

Anyway, I respect most people in public service. I don't believe that those who look at the same information that I do and draw different conclusions from me are somehow stupid. And I think it is dangerous as hell to approach it that way. I believe that you've got to have a hell of an ego to make it anywhere in politics or get eaten alive. Mostly I think that most everyone there is there to make a difference because they believe they can. There may be additional considerations, but it's mostly about belief.

When one of my best friends recently called me a "Clinton Democrat", I responded with this diatribe:
    How would you know what kind of liberal I am? Not like you've been paying attention since Shrub's dad was in office;)!

    I don't think the 2 party system works. I think the Dems continue to shoot themselves in the foot by trying to please everyone and the Republicans allow themselves to be dominated by an extremely small group of people that are not representative of the voters. I think those with good ideas quickly have the courage to act upon them drummed out as they realize that compromise is the only way to make the smallest amount of progress. I think the extreme partisanship in both government AND society as a whole is extremely damaging as fewer and fewer Americans spend time trying to understand or respect viewpoints different from their own. I fear those who dismiss the "other side" as ignorant, stupid, or evil. However, I am actually quite comforted by my belief that as an extremely arrogant country that seems uninterested in learning from the mistakes of our predecessors that we'll be rendered irrelevant in short order.

    Not that you're implying that by calling me a "Clinton Liberal". I have no trouble being called that. I was a Reagan Republican before when I was young an naive. I am frankly depressed by the current choices in many, many ways.
No dirty secret. I was a College Republican for one year. I quit them when the entirely male group (save me) created a splinter group called "Emory College Republicans for Life". I was registered Republican for one year after that. Then I got a letter from the party telling me to vote Republican because they were against gays. That was ALL she wrote.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

When Ice Cream Sandwiches Go Bad

It's Bert's fault. He may disagree, but he should know better. Our search for new cabinet knobs and drawer pulls and hinges took us to Dunn Lumber. After some hemming and hawing and arriving at the decision that what we have will serve for the moment, I passed the ICE CREAM cooler on the way to the nice cashier. Because of my current obsession with ice cream sandwiches, I threw myself against the glass a few times trying to get to them, before I figured out that the door slid open. I removed a holy ice cream sandwich, enquired of Bert if he desired anything. When he did not, I took my merchandise to the aforementioned cashier, traded money (or plastic) for them and we returned to the car.

This is when the trouble began. As all good Americans know, ice cream bars are to be wrapped in wax paper. Little if any adhesive is necessary and it is very simple to access this little piece of frozen nirvana. Somehow, this manufacturer figured out a way to screw this up. However, I thought nothing of it as it was wrapped in Mylar. You know, the stuff that tears when you give it a sharp look?

But no. I managed to tear a very small corner from the package, then with much effort pry open the entire top. This is where my progress all but ceased. As I prattled away at Bert, I was tearing away at the Mylar with my teeth to no avail. Meanwhile, the ice cream sandwich was not only smushing (a technical term) but melting a bit. I also had no place to put the small bits of Mylar, as I had put the small purchases in my purse rather than request a bag. Stupid tree hugging dirt worshipper.

At this point, we pulled up to a red light and Bert glanced at me. I had chocolate many places a woman of my age, education and professional stature probably shouldn't have. Not to mention tiny bits of Mylar stuck to my person. My to my amazement and chagrine, Bert had NO FRIGGIN' POCKET KNIFE. WHAT THE HELL KIND OF FIELD BIOLOGIST HAS NO FREAKIN' POCKET KNIFE????

So, I do the only thing an addict can do at this point. Wait the 4 minutes until we arrive at my home and take a pair of scissors to the aforementioned devil Mylar?? Silly reader who obviously knows me not. I attempt to open the other end of the Mylar assuming that the first end is merely an anomaly. Dumb move. Not only am I unable to make further progress, I am now stuck with an ice cream sandwich open at both ends.

I decide my only choice is to squeeze the ice cream sandwich from its wrapping. It does not go well. And when it does? It goes out the other end just as well. So, I'm squeezing and eating from both ends. A neat trick. I'm talking with my mouth full of cold ice cream. I suspect at this point Bert was trying desperately not to pee himself he was laughing so hard. I finished pretty much the same time we pulled up to the house. Mike was sanding the kitchen cabinets and was unimpressed by both my tale and the amount of chocolate on my person.

This was an ice cream sandwich gone very bad.