Unholy Shittles Machine

#1. Yesterday, and minus four years, I married Sassy.

#2. Today, and minus none years, I logged back in and posted.

Pizza Pie Charts & Cats = Always A Good Idea

What does this say!? It sure as hell says “kitties love them some motherfucking pepperoni pizza ohboy you have no idea.”

And some shit about economic oppression and such. But mostly, that kitties like pepperoni pizza.

B Wants To Know Why We Switched Blogs & Laundry Detergents

I’m sitting down. I’ve got this two-thousand-dollar thing strapped to my cervical spine, projecting out some kind of magical magnetic field. It makes everything taste of metal in my mouth.

So you ask, “what the [holiest of holies]* are you going on about?” Or perhaps more appropriately, “why do I care?”

* if I were thinking it, the phrase in brackets would have just said “fuck.”


Or maybe you aren’t thinking at all, which is true of any of my friends reading this. Bugger off.
I wrote that earlier descriptive bit to explain why I am writing this blog: I have a phone. It has an app. Tumblr. It is mobile/on-the-go/not-on-PC blogging made easy.

This whole neck-cutting and spinal pissing-me-offy thing has made me severely dislike sitting in front of a computer. Which in turn has made posts from yours truly less frequent. And that’s no good because Sassy’s crazy. She wants to write about crazy stuff, like…well, pictures of unicorns making flowcharts and shit.
I swear too much for that.

So I wrote this on my phone. While this expensive pieceofshit magnet heals the whitecoat cutting-my-neck party that happened last June. So that you don’t have to see unicorns making flowcharts without me adding the word “fuck” to them.

kid ish

Sassy Gets Domestic All Up In Here

It's February, which we have already established here. What you don't know yet is what we've been up to since the holidays. Or since last week. I'm happy to say that I have a few pics and details to help you fill in the blanks, since we don't want anyone losing sleep.

1.  It's nearly the 100th day of school. Kids really, really, really care about this. I think it's a great excuse for dingleballs.

Dingleballs, google eyes, rhinestones and toes.

Oh my.

2.  I sewed a button onto a shirt, and it stayed on. The shirt had a hole on the pocket because I cut the original (ugly) button off (and did a piss-poor job of it) in 2008.

Welcome back, shirt.

3.  The Wailin' Jennys released a new album yesterday. Don't even get me started, these ladies are golden. Inspired. I do my best to sing every song and every part on every album, it's like vocal meditation... but they do it best. Download their sweet, bluegrass-folk melodies here.

 $6.99 for MP3 download, it's a steal.

4.  I'm drawing a new mandala. I do new ones every few months, then give them away. The act of making them is meditation for me; the act of giving them away also gives me joy. It's generally a win-win situation.

Work-in-progress, pencil and watercolor

5.  I made Pork Chops and Applesauce from scratch and nobody died or got sick. I get nervous with pork because I never remember to stick a thermometer in the meat. Aside from that, I never follow recipes exactly. (Did you expect that I would?) I added cranberries instead of raisins because raisins are disgusting. It still turned out porktastic, the boys ate it all, and I enjoyed making it. Thanks for the recipe, Rachel. You're a doll.

This is hers. I don't take pictures
of my food before I eat it, sorry guys.

That's about all for today, folks. If you hate the new blog layout, please kiss off. Sassy didn't get any HTMElves for Christmas. But if you LOVE it, then please consider the comments section your personal free-for-all. I will be mailing reward points to the ones I like best. We love you all dearly. I need to go reheat my coffee now.

Wait, It's February Already?

Things have been busy. 

BUSY, I TELL YOU.

But don't you worry, all is well. (We just don't have time to write about it.)  

This should help.

By the way, Happy Bill Murray Day!

Improve Your Handwriting Or We're All Gonna Die

Just kidding. Or am I?
You should probably read this.

Yesterday morning my boss thoughtfully sent me a link to an article about typography-lovers, thinking I'd be interested. Naturally, I was all over it. The piece got me thinking about things...I mean, aside from, "Oh, that's like our apartment!" and "I love typographica.org too."  While the article is interesting, it also brings to light the annoying commercial popularity that type and text are enjoying right now. I attribute the recent hipster fascinations with type (in large part) to quality handwriting and printing going the way of the bald eagle – highly sought after and getting increasingly harder to find. The fact is that well-executed, handwritten signs or well, anything, is a rarity these days.

I didn't say "dodo bird" on purpose. Bald Eagle.

Procrasti-&%$#@-nation

I do not like doing my billing for last weeks' time. Why, you ask? Because I don't remember everything I did last week. What to do now, you ask? Now I must go piece it back together, like Sherlock Holmes going through my Outlook 'Sent' folder.

I do this every week...and have been for 3 + years.

Why don't I ever learn to do this on a daily basis, you ask? That's a good question, smartypants. I ask you this: who wants to do something that sucks every day, when you could do something that sucks once a week?  Mmm-hmm. My logic is flawed, but brilliantly so.

The iPhone Can Blog

It is fairly easy these days to publish content from virtually anywhere. I have a data plan on a mobile device featuring an HTML browser. (Alternatively, blogging/website platforms Word Press and Tumblr have mobile apps for iPhones and Android devices.) The options seem limitless.

They aren't. WITH GREAT POWER COMES EVEN GREATER ULCERS!

What's In A Word?

I was listening to the grand shuffle of my preferred digital media container, and this song ("Loving, Self Loathing" by Smoke or Fire) came on. Play it while you read, perhaps.

You ever listen to that Violent Femmes song "Blister in the Sun" (here) and think to yourself, "kite is a funny word"? Because it is. Kite and white.

Happy Holidays

He'll do it too

Season Of Busy Pants

It's Christmas time. In case you hadn't noticed. We've noticed, because we've been busy. In fact, everyone is busier during the holidays. And the thing is, for all we tell everyone how busy we are (and hear how busy they are as well) doing the million and one little things necessary for a "nice" holiday season, preparing for what is to come, all that shit - we probably spend more time with our friends and families during the month of December than any other time of the year. Because if being busy is a sort of barometer for how loved someone is, then we are a fucking loved society. So strictly speaking, when someone says "I haven't had time to catch up with this or that," if it's December, chances are what they are really saying is, "this or that is pretty low on my list of priorities. Far below the happy hour with coworkers or the movie night with girlfriends - annual tradition!"

Buying Things

Let's start with a song. Give it a spin while you read. It's an older number but always a good one.

Considerations Before The Holiday

Public schools and their political correctness make for silly bedfellows at times. The word "Thanksgiving" doesn't seem to be tied into anything overtly religious; the title says thanks, not "praise the Lord." So I found it interesting when the Child came home from school insisting it was called "Turkey Day," because that is what the teacher was telling all the kids to call it. Since the inoffensive Thanksgiving Day moniker is, obviously, too offensive. Hence why she didn't check spelling...

Hoppy Thonksgiving

The Ish Report, 11-whatevertodayis-2010

So I was driving to work this morning when the damnedest thing happened: this older gentleman in a Chevrolet midsize pickup decided to declare his angst for pedal-depression with a more active form of protest in hitting my car. He was very enthusiastic about it -- and I'm definitely quoting what I presumed my make-believe telepathy would have uncovered -- thinking often that he was "sticking it to the Man." Somehow.

I'm fine. I smell like shit and piss, because the older gentleman had some issues controlling himself while we were exchanging information. Otherwise I'm fine. Except for the blood.