50 raccoons per square kilometre

Damn Quebec, you just hit the very end of the list of places I'd like to visit- you're straight behind Trenton, NJ and Darfur.

Rabies outbreak along Quebec border contained
Updated Wed. Jul. 18 2007 5:50 PM ET
Canadian Press

MONTREAL -- Quebec wildlife officials say they've contained a stubborn rabies outbreak emanating from the United States, trapping it in an area around a small town along the Quebec-Vermont border.

One phase of a ground operation to trap and kill raccoons and skunks was set to end Wednesday but conservation officers will resume the effort next month in the area along the southeastern border with Vermont.

They will also drop more cookies laced with oral rabies vaccine around St-Armand, near the Quebec-Vermont border. Officers in Vermont are running a similar campaign.

Quebec natural resources spokesman Pierre Canac-Marquis says infected animals from the United States are spreading rabies into Quebec. With 50 cases of raccoon and skunk rabies reported in the first six months of 2007 in Vermont, Quebec knew it had an outbreak heading its way.

"It's really the first time we've had this kind of intense outbreak,'' Canac-Marquis said.

Wildlife officials have 700 new samples to analyze, but the ratio of animals infected has considerably improved, he said.

At the height of the outbreak, conservation officers found one-in-15 raccoons on the Quebec side of the border area had contracted the disease. Those numbers have improved to one out of 45, according to Canac-Marquis.

"So far, the results we are getting is that we were quite successful in containing the outbreak,'' he said.

Rabies, which can be fatal if left untreated in humans, attacks the nervous system and is spread from animal to animal through saliva.

No humans have been infected in the latest outbreak, said Dr. Jocelyne Sauve, public health director for the affected region.

Thousands of traps have been set in the area 85 kilometres southeast of Montreal. Some animals have been euthanized as a precaution.

The main objective is to create a barrier or eradicate the outbreak altogether so it doesn't enter more heavily populated areas, including Montreal.

Canac-Marquis says the threat to the Montreal area is very real. American studies show that the virus can spread up to 40 kilometres in a single year.

Montreal officials estimate there are as many as 50 raccoons per square kilometre on Mount Royal, the wooded park in the heart of the city. With a large number of domestic animals, officials say an outbreak in the city could be a disaster.

Quebec's first case of raccoon rabies was reported in 2006 but it could take years of operations to really get a handle on the virus, Canac-Marquis said. Quebec is following in the footsteps of Ontario, where a raccoon rabies outbreak in 1999 was stopped by 2006.

It is believed the Ontario virus came north via New York State. Advanced testing this year showed no sign of rabies infections in the area.

Generally, once rabies is established in an area, it can be very hard to get rid off, said Dennis Slate, national rabies co-ordinator with the United States Department of Agriculture.

"When you're dealing with rabies, it's hard to say how long it will take,'' Slate said. "Right through the winter, we found rabid animals (in Vermont). That was pretty indicative of a hot rabies outbreak.''

The last reported case of human rabies in Quebec was in October 2000, when a 9-year-old boy died after coming into contact with a rabid bat.

So, what I'm hearing is that if you see a cookie on the ground in Quebec you can pick it up and eat it. And then you won't get The Rabies. Right?

Well, maybe that changes my travel plans.

I've got my dad's eyes, my mom's chin, and my aunt's weird.

Example 1: My not-aunt Laurie and I were out shopping and she came across a square waffle iron and declared, “I’v been looking for a square waffle iron for ages! I can’t stand round waffles.”
“Yes,” I cried excitedly, “otherwise they are not conducive to proper topping distribution!”

Example 2: Later we were driving past a beggar just off of Union Square in San Fran and Laurie made her daughter roll down the window and give him 5$. We’d passed countless beggars and when we looked at her questioningly she responded, “He’s missing a leg.” This theory of giving is perfectly in line with my less delicately put theory on begging, which I call, “Show me your stump.”

Vacation Round Up

I had a great time in Cali with the family. Spent most of my time thrifting, eating fatty foods, frolicking with horses and dogs, and museum visiting.

Some vacation inspired thoughts:

Harry Potter made me compromise myself.
The airport was selling HP for 30$ at 20% off. Said I, “har har.” I bought it for 18$... at Walmart. My shame is great, but my aunt (who is actually not my aunt but my cousin once removed- I think) had to pick up something there. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Re: HP7, I am simply glad that I cannot be held hostage by this series any longer. I am satisfied with the ending, although the epilogue was crap. (And that is all I want to say about HP7- although I am consumed by the thought that HP is braver than Jesus; though I suppose being made up probably helps.)

Spent some time with the horses and began to wonder, how is it that when I try to give my cousin’s sheltie a milk bone it nearly eats my entire hand, but a horse can eat baby carrots out of my palm?

After wandering the Cartoon Art Museum I began to think that Calvin and Hobbes did everything that Peanuts did, but smarter. And with tigers.

SFMOMA was pretty cool, but I didn’t leave with any piece floating in my head; although I did like their Jackson Pollock better than SAM’s. Which brings to mind an only marginally related story.
Most interesting interaction with stranger at SAM: I was staring at the drip art Jackson Pollock and stepped closer and closer until I was an inch from the case, scrutinizing it carefully when a guy (my age or a bit younger) came over and joined me. He too stepped close and said, “What are you looking at?”
“Is that kitty litter?”
After a pause, “Yes, I think it is.” Then we both wandered off.

The picture below is my thrifting haul (well almost all of it):
(Please note that there is a wooden vulture wearing spectacles next to the pile of vintage fabric.)

Just when you thought it was safe!

I picked up my cell at work and it was Crazy Neighbor. Gosh, I was excited. She wanted me to go out to the street and see if her car is still parked there- otherwise it is _dum dum dum_ stolen!!

“Didn’t you move out?”

“Yes, but I went on vacation shortly after and left my car.”

“Ok, I’ll check when I get home from work.”

So I’ve got some good news, bad news. I don’t think that her car is there- but the good news is that when she calls back later to discover that her car has been stolen (Zoinks!) we’ll get down to the bottom of the mystery! It wasn’t a ghost panda after all, but my nefarious apartment manager who has been after her from the first- who would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for us no-good kids!

Then I will shuffle together a stack of Baconator sandwiches and eat them in one bite!

The Real Reason I Believe in John McCain

To quote Stephen Dubner: "If there were an Olympic event for Candor, I think McCain would win it every time."

Is it wrong of me to just desire truthfulness or at least effective lies based on things believed to be the truth?

Interestingly I see this same quality in John Edwards.

Questions for Senator John McCain
Race to the Finish
Interview by DEBORAH SOLOMON
Published: July 29, 2007

Now that your presidential campaign is falling apart and approaching bankruptcy, the consensus is that you’re finished. But some of us have faith in your ability to reinvent yourself. Well, thank you. I appreciate that.

Especially since the other Republican candidates don’t exactly stand out. Don’t put words in my mouth, darling. Listen, I’m sure that in the fall, when people are focused, I’ll out-campaign them. I can do the town-hall meetings, the kind of campaign that wins elections.

Might you consider borrowing, say, $5 million from your wife, Cindy, an heiress to an Arizona beer-distribution fortune? I would never do such a thing. I don’t think it’s the appropriate thing to do.

Why not? You’d consider it an insult to your masculine pride? No, it really isn’t masculine pride. It’s more that I think getting small donations is part of campaigning. It’s part of whether you can succeed or fail. I think that’s going to be the key to our success in the future, whether we can get the small-donor base.

I’m sure you’re aware that your rival Mitt Romney just tapped into his personal savings to self-finance his campaign. Yeah, $9 or $10 million or whatever. I am not criticizing anyone else’s decisions, but I should be able to raise my own money from contributors or take matching funds according to the law, not dip into my wife’s assets.

Did she ask you to sign a prenuptial agreement when you married her? Yes, yes. That was 27 years ago. We were married in 1980.

Well, maybe you will strike it rich with your coming book, “Hard Call: Great Decisions and the Extraordinary People Who Made Them.” How did you have time to write a 450-page look at history? Mark Salter, my co-writer, did it. What we usually do is use a tape recorder and we talk back and forth, and then 90 percent of the hard work is done by him.

Why bother to bring out a book if you’re not going to write it yourself? Well, we had an editor, Jonathan Karp, and it was his suggestion and idea.

He probably didn’t realize how apt the phrase “hard call” would turn out to be for you this summer, not least because of your support for the surge in Iraq. Obviously, it’s an unpopular stand. But General Petraeus ought to be given a chance to succeed. We confirmed him in the Senate knowing what he was going to do.

Do you ever look back and think, God, was I dumb to support the surge? No. You got to do what’s right.

Your youngest son, Jimmy, who is 19, joined the Marines last year. Has he been deployed to Iraq? Marines either go to Iraq or to Afghanistan, and they go back more than once, as you know, because that’s just the nature of the Marine Corps.

So where is he now? We don’t really talk about his schedule. Cindy and I think it’s a private family situation.

As a retired Navy captain, are you decisive in everyday matters, like choosing what to have for dinner? I usually ask Cindy what’s for dinner and then comply with her.

What if you’re buying a shirt? Can you make a decision without deliberating in a department store? I rely on Cindy. She has good taste. I admit freely that I do not.

You don’t have taste? In clothes, no. I think it’s got to do with my military background.

Why? Uniforms are very handsome. Yeah, but you don’t have much of a choice.

Sometimes the most difficult choice a person can make is to quit. I would agree.

Will you cut your losses anytime soon and quit the presidential race? No, no. That’s not a hard call. We’re staying in. I’ve had a lot tougher days than these.

101 Things in 1001 Days: Plastic Sundae Cup Edition

I am looking for these cups by Deka in any color. Have any of you guys seen these? Let me know!

Funny things my Grammy says: even funnier when taken out of context

Grammy: I’m cancelling my HBO; there is nothing good on it anymore.

Me: Well what about Big Love? That show is great!

Grammy: I’m sick of those Mormons and their weird ways!

Going back to Cali

So I leave for California at the crack of dawn tomorrow for a week-long 3 prong vacation (during which you will likely be update-less).

My cousin and I are starting in Lake Tahoe at her parent's lake house, then spending a bit of time at their ranch outside of Sacramento to ride horses and visit relatives, then to San Francisco to see my cousin's new apartment and do the museum thing.

I am very interested in the Cartoon Art Museum... which happens to be located quite close to Beard Papa's Creme Puffs (though I hear one is opening soon here in Seattle). I also hope to cross a few things off of my 101 List while I'm down there, so that should be a good time.

I would be remiss, however, if I failed to mention that I am utterly stressed out about this trip because I have to fly.

I'm not scared of plane crashes or anything- I just hate the whole rush to get there, then wait, getting checked in, dealing with getting luggage into bins I can't reach using 1 working arm and 1 with no sensation and limited strength, sitting by strangers, and getting out of the airport. I'm terrified of not packing the right things, sitting next to a smelly or a chatty, missing my flight, or getting bumped.

Worst of all is the pitifully ineffective but incredibly inconvenient security. Inevitably I am searched. I must be on some list or perhaps I'm just traveling alone while looking vaguely ethnic-ish. I always get hand searched and my luggage always gets turned before it gets on the plane because when I arrive my stuff is always all mangled and occasionally missing.

The second I am out of the airport, luggage in hand, I will be zen- until the day before I have to return.

Sweet Sweet Nelson Fan Club News Action

New band finds representation:

SCRAP METAL, a who’s who of multi-platinum lead singers and front men, include Kelly Keagy of NIGHT RANGER whose number one rock hits include “Sister Christian”, “Don’t Tell Me You Love Me”, and “You Can Still Rock In America”; Eric Martin of MR. BIG whose number one hits include “To Be With You” and “Just Take My Heart”; Gunnar Nelson and Matthew Nelson the twin sons of Rock’n’Roll Legend Ricky Nelson, of rock group NELSON whose pop/rock number one hits include “(Can’t Live Without Your) Love and Affection”, “After the Rain”, and “More Than Ever”; and Mark Slaughter of SLAUGHTER whose penned number one hits include “Up All Night Sleep All Day” and “Fly to the Angels”.

Don't judge me.

Thought of the Day: Aligator Lizards in the Air Edition

Lately I've been wondering if I am a complete idiot. For the last month or so I have been completely forgetting to take my birth control and not even noticing. I promise that I am usually a very smart (and more pertinently extremely paranoid) person. Is my subconscious mind attempting to get me knocked up, or merely cranky and bloated?

Excellent theme song for next week's Cali trip (to be detailed shortly): Ventura Highway. I swear to you, America is a FANTASTIC band. Sadly I shall not be toting America with my as my ever-sucky iPod is broken, again. And Apple has the WORST customer service ever. Instead of 'Genius Bar' it should be called 'Smug Bastard Who Can't Actually Fix Apple Products With Anymore Skill Than Quiana Bar' although I understand that that is somewhat verbose. Anyone have an MP3 player that isn't part of the Apple conspiracy to sell an attractive but crummy product? (Incidentally, this description of Apple products also aptly describes every guy I dated in college.)

My birthday is stretching to an endless (and baseless) celebration of my awesomeness. Parties (Friday & today), cocktails (Tuesday), lunches (Tuesday & 2 weeks from now), dinners (previous Tuesday and tonight) with presents and mail pouring in from God knows where since last week. If this continues I am likely to get very stuck on me. Yet, I can't help but ponder why I'm getting all this good treatment, is this karmic make-up for my crappy past few weeks?

I've started watching the show Men in Trees and I really (ashamedly) like it a lot. On the surface it is a romantic comedy- under the surface it is a romantic comedy too. But it has fascinating things to say about human nature and gender. Leave it to a Bryn Mawr Girl to obsess of the portrayal of gender in a second string prime-time comedy.
But let me explain the plot! She is a dating coach who writes books about finding love, only to find out that her perfect life isn't what she thought it was. On a business trip to Alaska she finds out that her fiance is cheating on her and suddenly realizes that everything that she taught about dating and gender was probably completely wrong. After years of trying to teach women how to analyze and manipulate men, she finds she knows nothing about them- or about herself. A romance about learning to love yourself and about learning to love and understand instead of manipulate; this show is the anti-Sex in the City.

Last night I watched Mostly Martha, a German film (now remade by Catherine Zeta-Jones) about a chef whose life is dramatically changed by the presence of her orphaned niece. Now I know you are going to say that this has been done- but never so charmingly. I love movies about second chances and change. It had a tone for me like Dear Frankie or Schultze Gets the Blues. Watch it.
5 Monkeys. It was either tear inducingly awesome, OR I am being influenced by my out of control improperly pill-regulated lady hormones.

Getting Off the Bike to Nowhere

It has taken me 690 days, BUT I have finally completed writing my 101 list (to the right under labels). (Per project set forth here.)
In my defense, I am a person who gets an idea and does not need a list, but rather says, "Hey self, now is as good a time as any." (This thinking did not apparently pertain to the writing of the list, however.)
Of course another part of the issue is that I am super-boring person with super-boring goals, which I really did try to keep to a minimum.
Additionally, as the writing process stretched seemingly forever a new problem arose in that I was taking so long to write the list that things were being crossed off of it before I could complete it.
Anyway, it is here now and you can see the list over yon if you care. I hope to post pictures of me completing items on the list as I go, assuming I don't completely forget about its very existence (a thing I am known to do from time to time).

Other People’s Stories: Grandma of the Nine Fingers

One day Steve and his mother visited his grandmother only to find that she was hiding her pointer finger, which was swollen to the size (and general appearance) of a polish hotdog. Being a kindly woman, she hadn’t wanted to bother them with such trivial injuries as woefully misshapen extremities.

At the hospital the doctors couldn’t figure out how this had happened until they tested all the longest of long shots. It appears that when Steve gave his grandmother a betta fish for Mother’s Day he thought her had given her just the right gift. But what he had actually given her was a repository of rare Thai fish bacteria, Mycobacterium Marinum.

The bacteria, getting into her finger through a small wound while she cleaned the fish bowl had quickly infected her finger. Unfortunately, the hospital had no capacity to deal with rare Thai fish bacteria and in any case, it was too late; the doctors amputated her finger.

Steve could never look upon her again, waving her four remaining fingers at them from the porch as they drove away, without feeling a twinge of guilt.

KiKi knows best.

This weekend, I somehow I ended up in custody (weekend-long) of my dead uncle’s 8 year old daughter. (The discussion of who would be taking the kid for an unknown increment of time went from child staying with Granny, to my driving child to other uncle’s house, to me harboring child in my minute Green Lake studio apartment. I am unclear on how this occurred)

This is very awkward for me, because while I like children, I like them in two states: prior to linguistic ability and when they actually have interesting things to say. So, essentially under 2 and over 11.

Anyway, those who know me will understand that I am not super child-oriented, so this was somewhat uncomfortable for me. Picture, “Now honey, don’t touch KiKi’s comics…” [thought … Or I will fuck you up- adorable blond moppet or not].

Unfortunately the discomfort wouldn’t end as she poured out her tiny little heart.
My uncle was a troubled man. He was constantly struggling with his own demons, and was deeply resentful, extremely sensitive; a hard man to be around. I loved my uncle, but I didn’t always like him very much.

As I showed her how to bake a coffee cake and properly cook bacon she asked, “KiKi, did daddy go to jail?”

“Uhm, why?”

“Because he told me he didn’t, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so…. It doesn’t matter, your daddy loved you very much- that’s what is important.”

“Would he lie about it?”

“Your father was a troubled person, life was very hard for him. I don’t think that what happened before is as important as remembering your dad the way you knew him.”

Later, when we were going to meet up with other relatives to take a ferry ride and get ice-cream she asked, “Will Mommy die too?”

“Your Mommy isn’t going to die for a long time. What happened to your father was a surprise. People don’t usually die like that.”

“But he did.”

“Yes he did. But your Mom won’t.”

“But what if she does? Or what if she leaves?”

“If something happened either Grandma or Uncle would take you. You don’t need to worry.”

“Is Mommy really coming back for me?”

“I promise.”

Today I found out that that woman left my little cousin with some friend for a month and a half- mere months after her father died. If that woman doesn’t come back for this kid I will go down there and kick her ass.

To avenge my cousin's neglect I let her go to a PG13 movie, stay up till midnight, have a breakfast of cake and bacon, and ice cream for lunch. I know that this is an excellent display of terrible parenting skills, and this is why I don’t have kids.

Déjà vu

Rebecca Romijn is the most utterly bewildering person in the universe.

Rebecca Romijn Weds Jerry O'Connell

Plug your ears and hum.

I am continually frustrated by people's desire to bury awkward mementos of the past like a cat hides its shit.

There is apparently a huge controversy in London about Borders shelving a Tintin book, published in 1931 that has very obvious racist commentary.
The article quotes a lawyer stating that: "The material suggests to (children) that Africans are subhuman, that they are imbeciles, that they're half savage."
Fair enough, I think that the book isn't necessarily appropriate for children; but it should serve to demonstrate ways in which the powerful stay powerful through propaganda. That people will say, do, and believe the wrong thing if it is more beneficial for themselves to do so.

We can't re-write history. Breaking Mammy cookie jars doesn't make it all unhappen, it just wrecks cookie jars. Pretending that there wasn't a problem does not erase past mistakes- but it does make it impossible to learn from them. Let people collect Nazi silverware, maybe it will remind how close we came to speaking German.

Acknowledging our past errors and understanding them is how we prevent them in the future. Does this mean that I want to chow down in a Sambo's? No, but we can't go around burning old copies of books, TV shows, or movies because they make us uncomfortable. They SHOULD make us uncomfortable.

I know I shouldn't get all Godwin (again) and bring up this issue (although I don't believe that this should count) but if you look at the way that Germany acknowledges its war crimes and how seriously people there take racism and then look at Japan's constant denials of wrong doing and look at how ethnic Koreans and the country of Korea are treated, both at the official governmental level and at the average Joe level, you will see a huge difference.

Furthermore I would like to point out something a little more disturbing; according to the article, "In [the book], Belgian cartoonist Georges Remi depicts the white hero's adventures in the Congo against the backdrop of an idiotic, chimpanzee-like native population that eventually comes to worship Tintin — and his dog — as gods."
That reminds of something... what could it be? Oh yea, Pirates of the Caribbean 2. Burn the movie! Keel-haul Orlando Bloom!!!!! Rip out Johnny Depp's deadlocks! Oh my gosh, he's a white guy in dreads and he acts kind of gay- and he's a womanizer! O my precious poopkins will watch this and get all confused! Let's sue!

Or what about Will & Grace, surely that is a forward thinking show. Wait, you mean all single straight women need a "gay friend"- that's stereotyping! Let's storm the studio and burn the film.

If everyone wants to look for racism, sexism, and any other 'ism' one doesn't have to go back as far 1931. It isn't Civil War memorabilia that we should be worried about, it's what is on TV right now, what we teach our kids and confirm to ourselves. That liberated feminist women crave meaningless sex 24 hours a day and should chase it in the same way that men are perceived to, but still be incomplete without a man (Sex & The City). That torture is sometimes good (24). Being pretty and stupid is cute and funny in real life (Simple Life).

Paris Hilton being a role-model is what keeps me up at night, not nearly 80 year old books.

SUC’s Helpful Hints: Beat the Heat

1. Move to Seattle Norway.

2. Craigslist Casual Encounters
"Petite brunette seeking… anyone with air conditioning.”

3. Build nest made out of Otter Pops… in the freezer section at Safeway.

4. Stay at work. Watch movies on Netflix online, snack on pop-tarts from vending machine. Sleep under desk in cubical on a luxurious bed of TPS reports.

5. Make arrangements to meet your friends at a nice air-conditioned pool hall, then spend an hour in your air-conditioned car driving there and circling 3 parking garages looking for parking and then giving up, stopping at 7-11 for Ben & Jerry’s, and eating it alone. In the basement. Watching reruns of Scrubs.

Victory is Mine!

Last night I broke all the rules: fatty food, milky food, martinis, sweets. I was lawless at the Stumbling Goat for Czarina and Czabrina’s birthday dinner. But early this morning I woke to a smell so bad that I immediately cast about for the dog, intent on ordering him from the room… only to find he was sleeping in the cool basement. Yes, I had produced a smell that was so terrible, so absolutely raunchy, that I am just a tiny bit proud.
“Ha!” I cry on behalf of every woman who has ever been laying in bed with her boyfriend or husband and has been compelled to say, “My God, what have you been eating?!”

Tales of Minature Quiana: DOOMED

I remember being curled up in a tight ball, my knees tucked up to my chin. My little fingers covering my eyes as I fearfully cowered in my scratchy theater seat.
Upon the screen hundreds of life-size furry tree dwellers were being annihilated by the forces of the Empire. Their little teddy-bear like faces scrunched up with tiny little Ewok tears as huge tree trunks and AT-ST's fell upon their fuzzy bodies.
My cousin David (a whole 6 months older) leaned over from the seat next to me and clumsily patted my back saying, "It's ok KiKi. It's only make believe."

This is my earliest memory; seeing Return of the Jedi in the theater in 1983. ( I would have been... 3.)
This is the exact moment that I believe I became damned; cursed to forever walk this planet a complete and utter geek.

Sometimes Craigslist isn't enough

I put the following add up on Craigslist last week and thus far nothing. Somebody end my suffering!

Did you finish Donna Tarrt's "The Little Friend"?

---

Reply to: sale-365855349@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-07-03, 11:37AM PDT



Congratulations, you are far more patient than I.

Want to tell me how it ends? I'm about half-way through and I can't handle any more of this book- it is as though it is growing longer as I read. I feel very dirty about asking this, but one more page of this book and I will actually die.

Earn some good karma and send me an email with a brief synopsis of the end of the book if you can spare a moment.

I have read up to where Harriet has just arrived at camp following the snake/overpass incident.

More than meets the eye.

Steve, Addy & I saw Transformers on Sunday and I was blown away. I had assumed that Michael Bay would create a bloated romance with appalling writing and a pitiful plot.

Yes, there were some tedious romantic elements, bad lines, and pathetically juvenile instances. And there were some plot-holes, but nothing on the order of other films designed for the same audience *Fantastic Four 1 cough cough.* But over all I found it to be charming and exciting. To my immense surprise the movie was also quite funny. And unlike other lengthy movies, *Pirates 2 cough cough* I didn’t even think to look at my watch. The acting was overall very good, even with the wooden performances of the ricockulously perfect looking women. This Labeouf kid gave a quite endearing performance. The character development was excellent- another surprise. And, of course, the effects were fantastic.

People keep accusing this movie of ruining their cherished childhood memories, but I wonder if any of these people have watched the original cartoon as adults…. I’m just saying that this was a cartoon created to sell toys.

So, for a film, made by Michael bay, based on a cartoon, based on toys, I was surprised and pleased. 5 monkeys.

Spoiler in Orange below (with non-spoiler to follow):

So I only had two serious problems with Transformers:

No seriously, spoiler.

1. Dude, they made a jive talking robot. Then they killed him. To clarify: they made a black robot and then they killed it. They killed the black one. What greater compliment can we give to a minority than to show him sacrificing himself to protect a couple of white kids and some (ostensibly) white robots?

2. That whole chasing the giant cube premise upon which the entire movie was built was some super lazy writing. “Yes, and they’ll be chasing a cube. Like a Rubik’s cube crossed with a Borg ship. Yes, brilliant!”

End of Spoiler!

Also five monkeys for the trailer to the untitled JJ Abrams film, (which is rumored to be called Cloverfield) which looked awesome. However, if this turns out to be a terrorist movie or a remake of Godzilla I will be super-pissed.

Quiana Prediction: The first half will be mysterious and engaging. The second half will be a muddled up mess of red-herrings and unanswered questions, culminating in a finish almost nobody is interested in. But this is all just a predication based upon, you know, empirical evidence.

In the nooze.

Katie Couric: Crazy, Bitch
Blogger says, "Hey Katie, SPUTUM!"

Clay Aiken: Crazy, Bitch
Blogger says, "Hey Aiken, you are a talentless ass-clown! Also you look like a chipmunk, but don't sing as well as other chipmunks I could mention."

Iraqi FM warns against U.S. withdrawal
Democrats say, "Shit, we need a platform and it's either this or global warming! Which is more important to American voters, brown people or polar bears?" HINT: Polar bears are white....

Afghan girls traded, sold to settle debt.
"He gave me nine sheep," Ahmad said, describing his family's woes since taking the loan. "Because of nine sheep, I gave away my daughter."
Honestly, I'm surprised that a girl is considered to be worth 9 sheep. See, and you said that there hasn't been any progress in Afghanistan!

"Unsafe" Canada prostitution law to be challenged
Canadian officials: "prostitution is dangerous- let's make it legal!" Brilliant!
Incidentally, I have never seen so many prostitutes anywhere as I have in broad daylight in Vancouver.... I'm just saying. See everyone, a semi-socialistic state is the way to go. Just ask Michael Moore.

For the health conscious undead.

Zombie Nutritionist Recommends All-Brain Diet

Excerpt:
Added Rossum: "Braaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnns!"

I'm so mean, that even when I'm nice I'm mean.

Saturday evening I was watering the flowers and talking to a friend when a small fluffy dog slowly trudged past the house. First in one direction then in the other before unceremoniously flopping into the gutter. I got off the phone and approached the puffball. He was wearing a new collar with no tags and was obviously someone's beloved pet. We sat together for a few minutes (I didn't want him to wander into the road) when a neighbor emerged and inquired as to why I was sitting in the gutter with some strange dog. I explained and he ran inside and brought back his wife who thought she knew to whom the dog belonged. She gathered the dog up and carried him up the street. Having done my good deed for the day I got back to watering the plants.

A few minutes later she returned and announced that the dog was not theirs and set him down. He waddled out to the gutter and flopped down. I ran inside and brought back a leash and a bowl of water. He lapped up the water and proceeded to follow me around as I watered the various plants. I had now had this dog in my possession for a good 30 minutes.

I finished watering and put the hoses away, little dog in tow. Then I wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, his owner was probably driving around looking for him, but on the other hand, the animal shelter is closed Sunday and Monday and if I didn't get him there in a reasonable time the owners wouldn't be able to pick him up until Tuesday morning. I resolved to sit with him for one more half hour. It was a fluffy and companionable silence, there in the gutter.

People in the suburbs are different than Seattle people. Seattle people are very nice and would have smiled at us, but out in the suburbs as we would look hopefully at passing cars they would wave energetically. "Oh Frank," I imagine they said, "Look at that adorable little dog! Hello little dog!! Oh she's out with her dog; isn't that just sweet?"

Finally I decided that we were approaching closing time at the shelter and if he had a microchip, he could be home right away. I tied the pile of fur to the porch and ran in to get the phone.

Here is another example of why people in the suburbs are different. I called the police and explained the situation. The woman asked if it was a friendly dog. I said "Oh yes, he's a very friendly little puff-ball." And she explained that she would send a patrol car instead of animal control; this way the dog could go to the shelter and not the pound. Small dog, as I had taken to calling him, and I went back to out spot in the gutter and plopped down to wait for the police.

We had sat there less then 10 minutes when the dog's little ears twitched and he jumped to his feet. A small black sedan cruised around the corner and screeched to a stop. The driver hopped out and ran towards me, the little dog ran to him as I let him off the leash. He explained that he lived quite a ways away and had almost given up, believing that the little dog could not possibly have walked this far.

As he was loading small dog into the car a patrol car pulled up behind him and the officer stepped out. I explained the situation as he scribbled in his little notebook. After I had briefed him he said, "Well miss, that was very nice of you, but I'm still going to give that man a ticket."

Well, I tried.

Nature, going for the cheap shot.

A 5 year old tackled and pinned a rabid fox to prevent it injuring other children at a family BBQ outside Charlotte. Apparently a completely different rabid fox attacked a little girl nearby the same day.

Excerpt from Article:
Rayshun's stepfather, Ryan Thompson, pulled the boy off the animal and kicked it. A neighbor fired a handgun three times but the fox continued to advance.... Thompson, wearing a cast because of a broken leg, said he used a stick and his crutch to beat the fox to death.

Note: this is the second time a rabid animal has been beaten to death with a crutch in recent news. Now I wonder:

Crutch : Nature :: Chainsaw : Zombies

(I believe this to be the correct notation of Crutch is to Nature as Chainsaw is to Zombies, is this true?)

Our plans are coming to fruition, Chairman Meow

Have you seen this craziness yet?
Cats That Look Like Hilter

I am extremely amused by this site.
Particularly amusing portion from the FAQ:

I think I may have a Kitler. My cat has a 'tache, and he keeps on annexing my next door neighbour's garden while making a noise that sounds suspiciously like "Lebensraum". How do I put him on the website?

Other thoughts:

-Hitler would probably not enjoy this ridicule.

-Your cats are plotting against you while you sleep.

One Degree from Warren G.

So I was channel surfing and all the sudden there was this dude that I new in high school next to Maureen McCormick. This was quite surreal.

I used to compete against Ross Mathews, Ross the Intern of The Tonight Show, in high school debate. He was closer friends with my cousin Jess and our friend Jenna, but I would see him at tournaments and occasionally socially. Apparently he is a real commentator now and has done extensive work; which I suppose explains why I saw him chatting with Dustin Diamond on Celebrity Fit Club.

Anyway, I thought that it was weird. So I Googled him today and apparently he is co-hosting The View on July 17 (my birthday). Weird.

I know this is a lame ‘I know a celeb story,’ but it was bizarre to find Ross lurking on VH1 in the middle of the night.

Let's talk about me.

Ack, I’ve been tagged I have been tagged by From The Back Nine.

Tagged players post eight random facts/habits about themselves. At the end of your post, you tag eight more victims suckers people; they then write their list of eight in their own blogs and post the rules.

Let’s see….

1. I’d be a Republican if it didn’t mean surrendering the control of my uterus. Don’t look at me like that, I believe in fiscal responsibility.

2. I am the only living person who hated Friends, Seinfeld, Everybody Loves Raymond, and King of Queens. This is because I am frosty, humorless bitch.

3. I honestly believe that Nelson’s After the Rain is hands down the best pop-rock album ever. Seriously.

4. I hate tapioca so very much. Its texture offends my tongue.

5. When Jim Henson died I was so depressed that I was kept home from school the next day.

6. I am highly marriageable. I have been proposed to 4 times (and broke with someone when I caught him shopping for an engagement ring, so I think that should count as 4.25).

7. I am not a good girlfriend.

8. I have many irrational fears, squirrels, bats, spiders, etc., but most amusingly I am terrified of squid.

Now for tagging part- I tag YOU. You put 8 facts about yourself on your blog and leave me a comment with your blog address so I can stalk you.

Run Don’t Walk, Fat Ass

Angry squirrels and I are in agreement that Fridays are the new days not to trust. Saturdays are also no good.

Last Friday I picked up my cousin Jessica and we drove down for my great grandmother’s funeral in Lakewood. We sat directly behind the relatives we are most familiar with, my uncle James (who is more or less my age), his girlfriend, and his sister Meghan and her children. As we installed ourselves in the pew James turned and looked around shiftily. He placed his hand in his jacket pocket and showed us a small blue container. Jess and I stared at it blankly. It felt like the 40’s, that he was trying to sell us prophylactics or porn. [Blogger’s note: I totally did not know how to spell ‘prophylactic’- in the future I should write ‘rubbers’ instead.] This was not a prophylactic, it was a grandma. My grandma. Well, part of her anyway. [Blogger's note: this could be the hip new toy this season: Pocket Grandmas or Pokegrama. Imagine Pikachu, but instead of saying “pika pika,” she could say “eat more eat more!”] Our eyes got big, and James was wondering what to do with his bottle of grandma. All I could think was to throw it in the ocean. No, my granny wasn’t into the ocean, but she was probably much less into hanging out in a random assortment of pockets simultaneously.

Now, I would like this to be understood before God and people who accidentally find my site whilst searching for porn, that when I die and am cremated (as this seems the most sanitary) I do not want small pieces of me to be sent home like morbid party favors.

Then the procession started and the priest came in. He was an older gentleman with a deep and droning voice like a cross between Ben Stein and Dr. Zoidberg from Futurama. He did all his priest-y things and then started the eulogy-esque section with the following: “People have mixed feelings about death. It’s like the story about your mother-in-law who drove over a cliff… in your brand new Mercedes.” Pause for chuckles… chuckles that never came. This would be a good point to mention that my grandma was a mother-in-law to three people sitting in that room to honor her memory. My great grandma was the kindest person that I have ever met, the nicest person ever. The sort of person you would be lucky to bring into your family and life. James turned and looked at me, shock written across his face. My eyes were wide as saucers and Jessica gave me the raised eyebrow stare from behind her hands. The priest’s voice betrayed no traces of humor and his attempt at a joke reverberated through the room before two sympathy guffaws broke the suddenly stagnant air.

The rest of the funeral passed without incident and Jessica and I raced back to her house for vegi-lasagna and Grey’s Anatomy reruns. Eventually I trudged to an office party at my boss’s house. I spent about 45 minutes and started to say my goodbyes. I went to my car and turned the ignition and pulled the lever to put my car in gear, to no avail. There was something amiss somewhere between my gear shifty thingy and my transmission. I returned to the party and my wonderful boss offered to call AAA for me. (This is a great place to mention that I had JUST cancelled my AAA membership after 3 YEARS of not using it.)

I was aware that I require a car between Friday and whenever the hell my car gets done and had to find a vehicle somewhere. I attempted to call my Auntie (who like every other living relative had JUST left for a camping trip), and eventually gave up and called my 12 year old cousin Sean. He skate boarded back to the campsite and Auntie told me that their spare car is in use, but I can take their 4 month old pimped out, crazy expensive mini-van until my car is repaired. Which is great, except that I can’t drive a van for shit, but as I have TWO airport runs to be made, I have to just suck it up.

Finally the AAA guy showed up and tells me it’s my transmission cable, but he can rig it so I can drive to the shop and does so. My very lovely boss’s excellent son offered to ferry me from the auto shop to my uncle’s house. We were half way there and on an extremely curvy road with no shoulder when my car began to rev up to RPMs that it has never before seen whilst simultaneously slowing down. I pulled over into the gated driveway of the local post office and my boss’s son (who no doubt has better things to do on a Friday night) attempted to reach his mother. No cell reception. After wandering around a bit he contorted himself into a strange position half-way on top of his car and called his mom. He explained the situation and we stood there for a few minutes while I apologized profusely (because I am obviously cursed). Unexpectedly the AAA guy showed up and explained that he got worried driving away and turned around to check on us. Nice. He clamped something in place and followed us to the garage, where I abandoned my car (which I later realized was full of things that I needed including my laundry, recent gas receipts (just wait for that section of my suckage), and grad school materials for my Sunday morning meeting.

I arrived at my uncle’s house and sat down to drink a glass of water and regain my shaken composure. After a few minutes I got up and went to the key drawer. And inside said drawer, no keys. This can be noted as the point at which I almost started crying. Instead I called Auntie and after a few moments of thinking she realized that she put them in some other drawer. I grabbed the keys and drove the van home. (2 days later I determined how to turn off the climate control. The button was marked ‘off’ and void of any symbols indicating what it turned off.) If you ever want a good time, watch me attempt to parallel park a van in my neighborhood.

Later that night Addy, Steve and I took a nice relaxing walk around the lake, during which, a car load of teenagers yelled, “Run, don’t walk, Fat Ass.” Surely my ass had had enough abuse for one day.

The next morning I drove my friends to the airport and right about at Boeing Field the gas light came on. After dropping them off I exited the airport to Burien and found a gas station (and dropped about $60 on gas) only to realize that I had no idea of how to find the highway. Luckily my Auntie and uncle sprang for that GPS directory business and I hit the ‘take me home’ button. A calm voice directed me back to the interstate and I cruised up to Cap Hill for a very fun barbeque followed by a viewing of The Night Listener, which I may add actually had me freaking out and saying such things to the TV as “Oh God, don’t go in there!” and “Oh Disaster!” (4 monkeys.)

Yesterday I was so caught up in the film Anatomy of a Murder (3 monkeys and p.s. they used the word ‘bitch’ in this 1960 film, starring Jimmy Stewart.) that I was late to let the dog out to pee and then the cat got out, which resulted in me hysterically searching for it, which resulted in a sweaty, nearly tearful Quiana hustling down to drop some friends off at the airport TWENTY minutes late. 20 minutes is probably greater than the cumulative number of minutes that I have been late to anywhere in the last year. This resulted in neigh on constant apologies to same said friends. On the return trip the gas light of HER car came on as I was just about reaching Boeing Field (hereafter to be known as the Land of the Auto Damned). I made it to the James St. exit and up the hill as the car was having seizures from lack of gas. I put in $10 of gas and consider myself now absolved of all lateness.

Last night I set my alarm for PM instead of AM and if the cat (recently returned from an exciting vacation/man hunt) hadn’t jumped onto my bladder, I would still be asleep at this very moment.

Today I heard from the auto shop which notified me that I am looking at about $900 in repairs (for the cable and for anchors to prevent my engine from oh say, falling out of my car/ busting my cable AGAIN). This is approximately $899 more than I have. Loyal SUCkers will recall that in February I dropped $1182.11 on repairs on my car of Eternal Damnation and Torment. Where is the point at which I should resign myself to new and exciting $300 a month car payments for 4 years and just bag this car? Any advice?

This new information prompted me to make sure that I had plenty of space on my credit card- which I KNEW I did already, but which enabled me to find that some gas station last week charged me $95 on my credit card. And because my car is in the shop, I can’t correct it until Tuesday or Thursday because I keep my gas receipts in my car to track my increasingly poor gas mileage (of doom).

Fucking Ricockulous Attempt at a Silver Lining on the Cloud of the Shit Storm of my Life:
1. My car didn’t break down on the way to my granny’s funeral.
2. My engine didn’t fall out.
3. The cat came back (prior to the very next day).
4. I’m going to very seriously violate the gas station who is trying to rip me off.
5. Last night I had fro-yo.
6. Wendy’s has released a burger called The Baconator- the bad news being that they have 830 calories and now I can’t afford one.
7. The 7-11 at 362 Denny Way has been remodeled into a Kwik-E-Mart. Yes, I would like a squishy.

Nature: Up to no good, as usual.

Ann Coulter is a pig.

Here is an illustration:
















Actually, Ann Coulter, you are not a pig. From swine comes bacon. All you make is headaches and hypocrisy. I heard you say once that your favorite book was the Bible. I take it that you use those thin pages for toilet paper. Oh Ann, if I hated you any more you would actually spontaneously combust.

Coulter's words help Edwards raise cash

Excerpts from article:

In March, she called Edwards a "faggot" and the campaign used video of the comment to help raise $300,000 before the end of the first quarter.

Coulter on ABC's "Good Morning America," where she said Monday that she wished Edwards would be killed by terrorists.

Edwards pointed out that Coulter's attacks haven't been limited to him, but also included his rivals for the Democratic presidential nomination. Coulter has made fun of Hillary Rodham Clinton's legs and compared Barack Obama to terrorists because his middle name is Hussein.

Sometimes you just need some Pygmy Hippo

I know I do.

Nature attacking electoral system!

Wa Woman Registers Her Dog to Vote
Duncan M. MacDonald is a fraud! Also a stupid name for a dog.

Starts with an 'S' and rhymes with 'ducks'... aptly describing my life

News of the Quiana.

1. My Great Grand Grandmother (the nice one) passed away Thursday night. I know it is for the best since she was very sick. But I am flooded with surprising emotions. Not the least of which is extreme dread of the funeral etc. which may be rife with awkward family interactions. In the Tri-Cities. BLECH. This dread is also infusing my life with a slightly greater than usual twinge of guilt and regret. hooray.

2. My rent is going up. Now I either have to move or be prepared to pay $675 for a less than 400 square foot apartment with limited on-street parking (which I only wanted to live in when it was a $600 apartment next to the lake I used to run daily until I hurt myself running). If I move I have to: a. actually physically lift my junk; b. probably move to the burbs where I will pay slightly more for twice the space, unlimited parking, a shortened commute... but will then live in the burbs where there is no place to eat and nothing to do.... OR get a roommate; c. I will have to go apartment hunting; d. I will have to borrow money from my family to pay the starting costs of a new apartment until I get my deposit back and my final month's pay check; d. talk people into helping me physically carry my junk; e. buy a new couch and lamps and table; f. somehow adapt to change; and g. deal with my growing comic collection.

3. A close friend was scheduled to come into town over the last weekend and while I won't go into detail, I was very hurt by the way she made tons of plans with someone else and then added me as a last minute after-thought after having asked me to clear my schedule to hang out with her. Note: I got essentially stood up the same day I found out my grandma died and my rent was going up.

In less depressing Quiana news:
I took my cousin to see Disney's Meet the Robinsons at the cheap theater and it was very good. I can't believe it flopped! 5 monkeys and two special endorsements, one for involving Tom Selleck and the other for making me laugh so hard I cried.

A large group of us went to see 1408 yesterday and I thought it was pretty good. Ghost movies are a really overdone genre; so I thought that considering that, 1408 was very good. 3.5 monkeys.

No monkeys (or perhaps many monkeys throwing poo) for the tweeners who sat in front of us and yakked (until my uncle Brad told them to shut up) and texted (in spite of my vicious kicking) through the whole damn movie. Yes, it was asshole day at the movies.

Suicide Squirrels Turn to Arson

High-wire squirrels torch man's home twice in 8 days

Squirrels repeatedly "accidentally" set man's house on fire. Yea right.

I feel like we are taking this threat less seriously than the situation warrants. These homicidal rodents are out to fuck us up and they are willing to pay the ultimate price.

It is pictures like the one below (featured on Cute Overload) that lure us into a false sense of rodent security. We cannot let Nature's propaganda machine influence us. Obviously this picture has been doctored.

Thought of the Day: Pig and Monkey Edition

1. Ways I could get rich:
-Old men have needs too... or so I hear.
-Slip and fall at Macy's, sue.
-Be prescribed allergy meds, grow third eye, sue.
-Fake own death for life insurance.
-Grave rob?
-Get knocked up by celebrity. Extort.
-Find buried treasure.
-Online adult film entrepreneur.
-Leprechaun.



2. Things that are similar to Christmas:
Paris Hilton in Jail.
Paris Hilton put back in jail.



3. Last night I sat down and sorted the 1.5 foot tall pile of comics that I need to catch up on and now I am EXHAUSTED and the floor of my tiny studio apartment is covered in piles of comics. That being said, some of my favorite comics are reaching their end and if I catch up soon I will have (almost) no books with pictures (GASP). Let me know if you have any snazzy recommendations.



4. My high school reunion is next year and I have done nothing with myself. Quick! Someone give me an idea on how to make myself impressive in 12 months or less!



5. Today irritating coworker was condescending to the point that she (literally) patted me on the head and called me "honey." I refrained from saying, "I'll cut you." But only just.



6. I'm trying to think of amusing stories to but on this here blog. You can make suggestions. That's always good. No pressure. Really. But you could.



7. I typed bacon monkey into Google Images and got the following. I consider this funny. You should consider yourself warned.

Sewing with Swine

Instructions for the creation of a Bacon Place Mat. Can also be used to make a bacon bowl.

Via Instructables.

VH1 why must you bring such shame into my home?!

Garbage I will happily watch:

America's Most Smartest Model
Models compete to be the complete package (Ha! I wrote package): looks and competive mean-spiritedness. I mean looks and brains. Yes, that's it....

Scott Baio is 45 ... and Single
Bob Loblaw confronts all the girls he's loved before to find what was wrong with him.
*Hint: Chachi!
(Ha! I wrote Chachi!)

Via Best Week Ever.

More useless news bits! Hooray!

Japan changes name of Iwo Jima
Japan has now officialy not really changed the name of Iwo Jima. Apparently the desolate and mainly uninhabited island was always known as Iwo To, but someone in the Japanese war department jacked up the pronunciation back in WWII (easy to do as the characters can be read either way).
Now they are ordering that the correct pronunciation be written on maps.
The rest of the world's response: "who cares?"

Man Says Salad Stolen From Refrigerator
You may file the above story under 'Recipes Quiana Would Like.' A salad that good eh? That would certainly show those smug bitches at the office potluck!

Take that, Nature!

Man strangles rabid bobcat
62 year old man named "Rippy" rips Nature a new one.

Squirrel Catapult is Awful, Yet We Can't Look Away
Squirrel catapult teaches rodents how to fly third class.

Like smuggling chocolate into Belgium.

According to this article, some guys got caught smuggling snakes INTO Australia.

Seriously, who was concerned that Australia doesn't have enough snakes?

Furthermore, who thought this was a good idea?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Now it will be full cavity searches for all garden gnomes coming through customs. Haven't gnomes suffered enough? Perhaps we should look to the Gnome Liberation Front for assistance.

Thought of the Day: Useless and Dirty Version

1. Recently coined euphemism for anal sex:
“The road less travelled.”
And by recently coined, I mean Steve and I came up with this in order to sound genteel when we mock people.

2. Have you guys heard about the teaching student who was kicked out of school right before graduation because of her Myspace page content? Here's an article about this.
This is precisely why I have rules about pictures. I don't allow pictures to be taken of myself under the following circumstances:
1. Eating- not good to be photographed eating, fatty.
2. Drinking identifiable alcohol- not good to look like a drunk.
3. Makin' whoopie- that should be filed under "duh."
My Myspace page is as innocent as a baby panda. Just like me, or so my great grandchildren will think when they don't find pictures of me double fisting a ho-ho and a beer whilst exploring the road less travelled.

3. I am a bad person.
There is this woman at work who just drives me nuts. She is a classic busy-body: nosy, bossy, not terribly brilliant, not good at her extremely simple job, and deeply desirous of praise. But she is a very very nice person- much nice than other people I could name- ex: me.
And lately she has been inviting herself to lunch at our table. Which would be fine except the whole time she is there she dominates the conversation. And she always tells us things that are not accurate. She shows up when we are all almost done and plops down. I wouldn't even care if
it wasn't that from the second she shows up I am on edge, just waiting for her to do something ridiculous and drive me crazy. I know this is mostly a me problem, but honestly, who goes to someone's cube and invites themselves in? I would sit alone forever rather than go anywhere uninvited. And I would certainly never show up late and just shove my chair in.

4. So, Friday night I had a very disturbing dream. I won’t go into too much detail; but I was at a resort in Las Vegas for some form of nuptials (mine or someone else’s). Whilst traipsing about I met a (in)famous person and had a torrid affair with him. (I should note that I never have sex dreams, so in spite of the torridness of the affair, I was spared any gross details. Thank sweet zombie Jesus.)
This person was depressed and self-destructive, and well they should be. I won’t say who it was, and never in a BILLION years will you correctly guess. It was hands down the most seriously upsetting thing that I have ever dreamt.
What is up with me lately? First the pregnancy peeing dream and now this; God, I hope that I have brain cancer or something. The possibility of my normal healthy brain thinking up anything this awful simply will not do.

Finally some good news about Iraq

Study: Iraq second most unstable country
Most unstable: Sudan.

In other news:
Squirrel goes on rampage, injures 3
"After that, the squirrel went into the 72-year-old man's garden and massively attacked him on the arms, hand and thigh," the spokesman said. "Then he killed it with his crutch."

Stan Lee signs deal with Disney
This is reminding me of last night's viewing of FF2 in which Stan Lee appears and says: "I'm Stan Lee, Stan Lee, Stan Lee. You know, Stan Lee!"

Red Cross Offering Gas For Blood
Well, at least we are used to this sort of arrangement.

Thought of the Day: Raaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwr

I was at a friend's house a while ago for a little gathering and at some point in the evening he removed a video from his VCR. Upon noting the title I exlaimed, "You huge loser! Do you own Underworld?"
He said, "Yes, yes I do."
Later this friend reveled to me that the film was actually a porn by the same title, because he didn't want me to think that he owned the feature film, Underworld.

Which brings me to my Thought of the Day:
I do not like boring people. I spend all day juggling data and writing dry email responses to morons. When I hang out with someone I need them to bring a little interesting to my life.
My friends that are not friends of obligation all have something about them that is interesting.
I don't especially value 'niceness.' Being a nice guy is not good enough. But if you are a nice guy who can quote extensively from Chaucer or Futurama, I am a happy girl.
I think that the above story illustrates my friend's understanding of my personality perfectly. I really would be less ashamed of him owning third rate pornography than owning the poorly done vampire/werewolf crap-fest that is Underworld.

I wasn't going to blog this...

but now I realize that I have blogged numerous more embarrassing things.

The night before last I dreamt I was pregnant. Not huge but well on my way. (Note to people who don't know me: I don't plan on having babies. Like an SUV, I like them but I don't want one.) And I was trying to hide this pregnancy from my family. (Note: my family who would be thrilled if I would get knocked up. THRILLED.) My strategy: yoga pants. Dream Quiana is not only fat, but also not terribly bright.
I was attending law school, in yoga pants, whilst pregnant. Now Kim, you will be glad to know that you too were in law school and you were assisting me in some manner in hiding my bulging belly and looking for a bathroom in what was a library, but turned into a party in a sort of split level house. A house with a ladder to the rumpus room. After climbing down said ladder all we could find was a mammoth bathroom which seemingly had no stalls, but rather pots all along the walls. However, due to my mercilessly squished bladder, I was forced to wobble unsteadily down and pee in front of younger drunken student types.

Now, I tell this to my lunch club at work (the people I don't hate) and they tell me that when you dream you are pregnant it means that you are searching for a creative outlet. Said I, "I think that it meant that I really needed to take a piss." I am a class act.

Later that night I get a phone call from my collegiate best friend Megan who, as it turns out, also dreamt about being pregnant; something that her boyfriend was not too thrilled about. I would love to search for greater meaning, but unless we are having some kind of psychic Bryn Mawr moment, I don't get it.

Is this like some cheap romantic comedy where a stern business lady suddenly hears the tick-tock of her biological clock and finds seemingly unsuitable love? BLECH!

Ryan Reynolds claws way to top

The top of the list of men with whom I would make sweet, sweet love, that is.

Below are links to two interesting blog posts by same said actor.

The Clown God
A touching ode to his brother. And by touching I mean touching poo.

Competitive Eating
Thoughts on eating to the point of internal bleeding for family fun and cash prizes.
Amusing phraseology:
Although oceans and even the most basic human rights may separate these two great peoples, we are ALL bound together by the vibrant spirit of competition and grotesque displays of boundless, unapologetic shitheadery.

Either this kid is smarter than I believed him to be or he has a thesaurus.

Notable News

Headline which inspired loathing:
Isaiah Washington: Fired & Bitter

Most irrelevant headline ever:
Journey's Steve Perry Thinks Sopranos Finale Hit Right Note
Also wins award for most ridiculous music pun ever.

Unluckiest headline today:
19th-century weapon found in whale
Whale learns that cheating death can only be accomplished for a century. (This will teach him to make metaphorical deals with the devil. And by devil, I mean robot devil. And by metaphorical, I mean get your coat.)

Saddest headline today:
TV's 'Mr. Wizard' Don Herbert dies at 89
Mr. Wizard was one of my all time favorite shows. I really loved science and Mr. Wizard nurtured that fascination. I am sorry to know he is gone.
I am also reminded of Mr. Wizard's counterpart, Mr. Lizard of Dinosaurs fame: "We're going to need another Timmy."

Because I've been very busy...

and because you deserve it. Another Japanese snack commercial with strange dancing women.

Privacy Shmivacy.

This morning I sent in an order to have a pictures printed at the Walgreen’s a few blocks from my office. A couple of hours later a colleague in another division (whose last name is alphabetically near to mine) came over to my cube and said, “I just went to Walgreen’s to pick up my photos and did you also have some photos there?” I said yes. And she said, “Good because they accidentally gave me yours.”
I don’t know what the odds are that they would give my photos to any random person who came in and that the random person would be a coworker, but that’s pretty weird in my book.
Luckily for me nobody else shares the same name (as far as I can tell) and of course I’m really glad that they were pictures of my cousins and me at Heather Lake last month and not boudoir pictures.

Crap about which I’m thinking- Produce Edition!

I just noticed that I accidentally purchased an organic banana imported from Ecuador.

Good news: (probably) scary pesticide free (who knows who oversees this in a developing nation)
Bad news: I just paid .79$ for bananas to be shipped using fossil fuels from a jillion miles away.

Net environmental impact = :o(

Other thing:
Because I apparently desire to have student loans for the rest of my life, I am thinking of buying a new digital camera. If anyone has any words of wisdom, both product-wise and research-wise, I would welcome them. While I don’t need a fancy camera, I am interested in size, screen size, ease of getting pictures off the camera, and to a lesser extent picture quality. Additional thought: how much should I care whether the battery is an AA or a rechargeable?

Thank Paul for bringing the photo to my attention.

Good news for Republicans, bad news for everyone else.

Study: Hurricane Surge 'Normal'
A study has come out showing that the surge in storm conditions may be part of an unfortunate, but normal cycle.
This is of course problematic, not just for Floridians, but also for those of us who are concerned with the environment, quality of life, and foreign oil dependency. However, given the country's current obsession with global warming, even a flock of such studies will not waver our intentions to win the War on Warming. Especially since we are losing the War on Terror, War in Iraq, War on Drugs, and War on Obesity.

Litigious Canadian Journalist- too dumb to use condom or research frivolous lawsuit

Canadian journalist says "Knocked Up" a knock-off
Apparently some woman is suing Judd Apatow for copyright infringement.
Excerpt:
"A lot of people, I'm sure, will say, 'Well, getting drunk and knocked up, it could happen to everybody.' Well, the fact is, it doesn't happen to everybody, and no one had written about it before I did. And he (Apatow) didn't sell the screenplay until after I did."

Wow, I could have sworn that this happens all the time (sure seems like it when you watch Cops) and has been written about before. I'm thinking, Look Who's Talking, Parenthood, etc. Not exactly the same, but the same sort of concept.

Excerpt:
The story of an up-and-coming reporter who gets drunk and pregnant is the premise behind both the film and Eckler's book. She said other similarities include the fact that both fathers are Jewish-Canadians, and both mothers took a huge number of pregnancy tests to confirm a baby was on the way.

Interesting point about the reporter thing. However, if she had done her research she would learn that Seth Rogan actually IS a Canadian Jew (which is part of why it's funny- if you are an Apatow fan). Additionally, if I found out that I was pregnant I would piss on many a stick.

Said Apatow:
"The book is about a woman who gets pregnant by the fiance that she loves on the night of her engagement party," he said in a statement. "The film is about a one-night stand between a pot smoking slacker and an ambitious young woman that leads to a pregnancy and their attempts to get to know each other.

In my final thoughts I would add that if she was more familiar with Apatow's work, she would find that he is actually stealing the concepts from his own previous works. If I didn't adore everything he's ever done I would probably hate that, but since Apatow's shit doesn't stink, all is well.

Maybe now they'll learn? Nah, probably not.

Today I noticed an article about the actions of Jericho fans trying to save their show. It looks like sending 50,000 pounds of nuts got NBC's attention.
I'm damn tired of these networks canceling shows so rapidly I can't even get a shot at seeing them. That combined with the advent of Netflix is the reason so many people only watch shows when they come out on DVD. Especially more cult-ish shows like Jericho. (Which, incidentally, I never started watching because I figured it would go the way of Surface, Firefly, and Invasion- it's comrade sci-fi shows.)
(Which brings me to another aside: if sci-fi is so historically popular, and popular in video games, books, and film, why is Sci-Fi Channel the only station willing to stick with a show? We are so desperate for good sci-fi that we are watching utter crap. When will Network Television get the message that Cable has understood for ages? And while I'm at it, what is the most enduring black and white television show? You could argue argue The Honeymooners (which at the time was not popular) or I Love Lucy, but I think that more people remember The Twilight Zone. Even kids who've never seen it can recognize references both musical and otherwise to the show. Could they recognise the opening theme from I Love Lucy? I bet you 50,000 pounds of nuts that they couldn't. End of tirade.)
If I think I will get four episodes into a new show and then the whole thing will be trashed, it demolishes any interest I have in watching a new show.
There are a couple of shows that I think I will watch when they start in the coming season, but I promise that if they immediately get yanked off the air so that they can throw in a mid-season replacement (which will in turn get pulled immediately) or reruns of King of Queens or Seinfeld I will flip out.

Well, this certainly made me hungry.

Recently someone asked me to succinctly explain my understanding of Japan.

I can do you one better: This is Japan.



You asked for it.

Robots, sex, and violence in the news.

Japanese robot likes sushi, fears president
Gosh, we have so much in common. I wonder if he's single.

British women prefer chocolate to sex: poll
Alternate title: British women more honest than American women.
Excerpt:
Fifty-two percent of women would rather curl up with a bar of chocolate, according to the survey of 1,500 Britons by confectionery giant Cadbury, quoting one women as saying "chocolate provides guaranteed pleasure".
"Chocolate never disappoints," she said.
So there is the definitive proof. It's not the sex that women don't want, it's the men.
You just think on that fellas.

JonBenet's Dad & Natalee Holloway's Mom Together
Does this creep anyone else out?

Rock On

Best Week Ever is reporting that the Rock is divorced.

Part of me is sad that a nice functional relationship is gone. The other half of me is calculating how much it would cost to get a boob job and a plane ticket.

Charles Taylor Update.

Taylor boycotts war crimes trial

Excerpts:
"I cannot participate in a charade that does no justice to the people of Liberia and Sierra Leone," Taylor said in a letter read by defence lawyer Karim Khan, who later walked out saying Taylor now wanted to conduct his own defence.

"I choose not to be a fig leaf of legitimacy for this court," Taylor said in the letter, complaining his defence lacked resources and he was not sure of a fair trial.

I have an alternate for Taylor, should he choose to refuse this trial. Leave him to his victims and their families to sort out.

There is a special place in hell for this man.

News you (probably) can('t) use.

Finally! A reason to watch Law & Order.
Yes, he looks like a scruffy ne'er-do-well. And he was in Dead and Breakfast. Jeremy Sisto: I'd hit that.























Amateur scientist (aka a guy with a video camera) has "tape of Nessie"
This video is interesting, I'm curious to see what happens. It's probably just a private submarine, like the one is Swans Crossing.

Some lawyer is doing fancy LEGO art.
It is quite cool. But probably won't get him laid....
Right Paul?