Hey, kids, you have over a month to get your prom outfits ready! I'm talking duck tape outfits. Yes, it's that time of year to get creative and win a scholarship. I haven't read the fine print because I don't care about that part, so, I'm not sure if you win a scholarship to Duck Tape College.
Yes, it's duck tape, unlike duct tape, the stuff Red Green used for many, many projects,
although it's the same stuff. Confused? Don't be. Just get crack-a-lackin' and think outside the roll. You have til May 31st to get your entry in. Here are some images from last year's contest. The winning couple, um, "Biff "and "Buffy,"
won. It took 39 rolls of tape and 207 hours to make. And, it Biff and Buffy get married and have little biffins, these outfits will probably still be good to go.
Today is, World Book Day. Shoot, every day is book day for me. I can't recall ever being without a book, and my love for many of the characters is still as strong as ever. As Sheldon Cooper explains to Howard why he is giving him his, 'spot,' he says, "I love my mother, my feelings for my spot aremuch greater." Yeah. I feel the same about books. Real live people are okay, but they can't take away my spot for Scout, Jane, Eleanor, Daniel, Garnet, Ignatious, Merricat - old and new friends. What can I say? Read a book.
A small sampling of some the books I have read and loved this year...
A new friend, Daniel. I am so glad I read this book, although, I was highly skeptical seeing that Steve Martin wrote it. I assumed it would be too silly, but the character in the book, Daniel, is so wonderful and the story is funny and touching and yes, at times silly, but oh, so sweet.
Oh, boy, what a disturbingly good book, written by one of the best, Shirley Jackson.
"A green hunting cap squeezed the top of the fleshy balloon of a head. The green earflaps, full of large ears and uncut hair and the fine bristles that grew in the ears themselves, stuck out on either side like turn signals indicating two directions at once. Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black moustache and, at..."
I will never tire of reading this quirky and sometimes, gross, tale about Igantius Jacques Reilly. So wonderful. The true story of how this book was finally published is just as intriguing as the book.
Some new characters, although, they can never replace Scout and Garnet. I'm sure as we get older and more jaded we lose that sense of wonder and feelings for people who never were. It's sad in a way, but, they will always be there for me.
Despite what Tine Fey thinks, not all HGTV viewers are blonde boffing bouffant big boobed boobs. I'm none of those things, but I love the house shows, especially, 'Love it or List it.' I don't recall watching House Hunters too often, but the premise sounds familiar. People looking for their dream home and I do mean a dream home. I had to laugh when I read this article about what people expect to get and what they actually can afford. Everyone wants the open concept kitchen. Last year it was the "en-suite.' They all want 3-4 bedrooms, two and a half baths, office space, kid space, a pool, two car garage and a giant yard to entertain all their friends and family, all for under half a million, preferably around, $100,000. Like the people in the article, I kind of wonder what these people do for a living and how they expect to get all that on a pizza delivery job. It's too funny.
*Remember, the link is highlighted. You must look if ya wanna laugh or two. However, more than two giggles that will cost you plenty.
Recently, I wrote a post about a help center in our community that was in trouble because citizens who lived nearby considered the needy a nuisance, a blight on their property and too ugly to look at.
The good people of First Step have decided to shut their doors permanently rather than invoke the wrath of a few disgruntled neighbors.
Yes, I get it, it's a pain to look out your window and see men and women sitting on a bench in front of the building, smoking, sitting, talking... most looking like they could use a bath. Some looking as if they forgot to take their meds. A few talking to themselves... Mostly, they were men and women who fell. For whatever reason, whether it be a drinking problem, drug problem, mental illness, they gathered in a safe place. Now, it is closed. Many Kenoshians are ecstatic. I wonder if they think the people will simply vanish, fall into another plane? The ugly truth; they are with us. People who cannot cope on a daily basis without help are still here. I hear it all the time, from relatives, from lousy comedians with bad sit-coms, from our own government, all these people need to do is work hard and they too can have a piece of the American Dream. Just pull up your big boy pants, suck it up, deal with it and stop being a pain in our well fed asses.
I realize I will never be able to change the minds of those who think this way. They are the lucky ones. Oh, yes, they are. They have managed to live a life without having to beg, grovel, demean themselves, or just give up. They have done it, the lucky ones. I think they would probably scoff if they read that line. Lucky ones? We just worked hard, pal, did it on our own, pay our taxes....
Yeah, I get it. Hardworking, taxpaying, resilient citizens, who don't want to look out their windows and face the harsh reality of life, because it is ugly.
So, what happens to the outcasts? Do they leave town, look for another bench? I guess some will move on. I think most will just go to another part of town and search for a safe place.
I sometimes wish I could be more eloquent, more articulate. The truth is ugly, life is ugly, and people are ugly.
*I would like to let readers know, the highlighted words in my post are links to get more enlightenment on my rants.
Oh, laws, here they come. I knew Trump was reading my blog, and now, they are coming to get me. Don't be fooled by their silly deception, wanting you to believe Trump is heading to Snap-On tools. It's their way- say one thing, do another. Crap, I've said too much already. If you continue to read my blog, be aware, it may not be me anymore.
So, what do non-Christians do on this day? Well, I hunt for bad eggs. I found one! Markwayne Mullin, dude who was voted by the people, for the people, except the good old boy claims he pays his own way. This is the guy who came from rich, who's silver spoon is imbedded deep in his Oklahoma orifice. He took over the family business from daddy Mullin when he was 20. Blah,blah,blah.... Just another asshole who thinks he's smarter than the people who voted for him. Hmmm, perhaps he is. After all, they voted for him.
I understand that our first instinct is to flee after a traumatic incident, especially one we may have instigated, but, at some point our conscience should kick in and we should do the right thing. Isn't this part of what separates us from other animals?
Unfortunately, some people choose to hide. They turn into cowards. They show their true colors. I ponder on my own morals and reaction if I ever had to face an anomalous experience. Would I be able to stand up to a bully? Could I intervene when someone needed my help? It scares me to think I could react the way Hubbard did. Again that deep down instinct for our personal survival kicks in, yet, some never think of themselves, they jump in and help. Other turn away when they witness someone in need of help. I'm sure I would never be able to forgive myself if I turned away.
Nathan Hubbard killed 75 year old Wesley A. Hironimus on Sunday. He hit him with his motorcycle, then took off. He hid his bike, then went to work, as Hironimus was pronounced dead. Later, Hubbard again hid his bike in a friend's shed, so, others shared in Hubbard's cowardice.
Hubbard finally turned himself in AFTER images were shown in the media, and, before he hired an attorney. Hubbard claims he had no idea the man he had hit was seriously injured. (((pause))) Uh, is that his excuse? Hubbard needs to spend quite a few years in a jail cell thinking about that. Somehow, I think he will try and turn the blame to others, such as the victim. As for those who aided Hubbard, they also need to go away for awhile.
Trump: "How was your chop suey, Ping? How'd ya like that firework display, Shee? Pretty awesome. We wiped out Shanghai and Beijing. Only took a 69'er, hey, hey, know what I mean? Why he's so quiet? Does he understand the words coming out of my rose bud lips?"
Interpreter: President Jinping is choking, sir. You have bombed our cities."
"Trump: "No, I said we bombed Tibet and Quebec." How's that cake, pretty good, huh? The underlings around here sure know how to throw a good spread. You play golf, Shoo-shoo?"
Interpreter: President Jinping would like to know why his chair is so low? He cannot reach his fork. He also prefers not to eat with the killing map in the room."
Trump: "Hey, do you think I can order some chopsticks from you? Beautiful, beautiful. My fingers can't hold on to forks." Okay, gotta go. Get out and have a good day. Ivanka, come wipe my chin!"
My DNA results finally arrived. It was 65.5% no surprise. That is my Northern/Western European blood. Boring. The rest, 26.6 Eastern European. A bit of a surprise. That's in the Ukraine, Belarus area. Pretty coo. The neatest surprise was the 2.7 % Northern African bond.
Something like this...
I love it. That covers Morocco, Egypt, Libya... I knew I had some exotic blood coursing through me! It explains my love for Moroccan lamps and dark cafes. It's not much, and I still have to guess how and why, but it's all good. Oh, and no Irish/English blood, which was a surprise. And a mystery.
What happened to the nights when you tried to meet your future soul mate in a stinky, smoky bar? We lived on the edge, never knowing whether the one we batted our falsies (eyelashes) at was Prince Charming who just happened to pop into the bar to get a bowl of water for a poor kitty he found in the street. He certainly was not their trolling for a troll. Yeah, we lived on the edge. It was exciting- and rawther dangerous.
Nowadays, you can find your mate online. To me, it makes sense, although, the person behind that screen could be a 400 pound mama's boy. (Just ask Thomas Gibson about that) You can join special dating websites, such as this one. They will match you with your love connection by your credit score. Gosh, how romantic. Dating is hard. I gave it up for Lent. There really is no easy way to find true love. If knowing your maybe date is financially secure, well, have at it. I guess it beats sitting in a smoky saloon, hoping Mr. Kitty lover will see you through the haze.
I feel for the guy - one ticket sold for his movie in the U.K. Who was the one viewer?
I'm guessing some guy who looked like this.
I have a confession to make. Yesterday, I went to the grocery store to buy a few items. I take public transit, because one, I don't drive, and two, it's convenient. Anyway, I am always thinking about how much time I have before the next bus comes. I get one transfer, so if I don't use it I have to pay again. It's not a big deal, normally, but with my anxiety, I make it a big deal, so I rush through the store then head to the self checkout. An older woman was in front of me, taking her sweet old time. Fine, I'll just look at the magazines whilst she finishes. She doesn't have much... 'Ooh, Doris Day is 95, although she thought she was 93. Haha. Is that really important, now, and how doesone not know?' Still waiting for woman to bag her groceries. Seriously, I now think she is deliberately taking her time. I've been through this scenario before. Let me take you back_-_-_-_- I'm standing in line at the local Walgreen's, the watering hole of every senior citizen in town. It is three days before Christmas. The man with the really awful wig is buying fifteen lighters. That's all, just fifteen lighters. The clerk rings him up and hands him his change, of which he now starts to straighten so our former leaders all face the same way. Yes, I am getting pissed and I'm sure he knows it. He goes slower, opening his wallet inch by inch. I'm not playing his game, or, perhaps I am, because I start to put my items on the counter. His fifteen lighters are already bagged. There is no reason for him to still be standing there except to get a rise out of me. He succeeds. He turns to me to complain about my items. I look at him and say, "Move." The clerk just stands there like a mannequin with her mouth hanging open. I know there are people behind me even though you could hear a pin drop. I feel like shit for getting angry, but this asshole is one of those people who love to get people pissed. I feel angry because of that as well, and the fact that the stupid clerk is still just standing there whilst idiot is still placing money in wallet. It was not a good day for Thingy. Now, let's go back to the present_-_-_-_ Okay, I've read the covers of the magazines and old bitty is still placing items in bag. There is a bar you can use to separate groceries but a bag of chips was in the way and I didn't want to move it, so I started to scan four bags of vegetables that I wanted to purchase separately, then wait for her to vamoose. She was not happy. She started pushing my bags back and told me to wait my turn. Now, at this point, I could have taken the high road and just smiled and waited, but I was back to that time in the Walgreen's. She wasn't such an ass as the wigged dude but she was definitely a human who enjoys pissing people off. I told I only had these four items and told her not to "worry about it." She finally left after whining to all the employees within hearing distance.
I felt pissed and mad, mostly at my own stupid behavior. I could have waited. I could catch another bus. I could smell the flowers and act like an adult. It ruined my whole day. I'm sure it ruined hers as well. There is really no reason to post this diatribe other than to make my confession. It's the catholic in me.
So, next time I start to react to an unpleasant situation, I shall try to think and adjust so everyone feels good at the end of the day.
Ole. This is when I will probably get nasty comments because I'm rooting for the bull. Recently, I have seen two stories of bullfighfters being gored by the injured animals. Bullfighting is a disgusting 'sport'. It is cruel and senseless. Why would someone want to see an animal tortured? And when bull fights back, is the audience thrilled or, excited by the blood, and viciousness of the attack? I don't feel empathy for the men who were injured. I want them to remember their pain. I assume the bull is killed and most likely not without inflicting extreme pain.
And the curse continues... Two of my favorite local establishments have folded. I don't understand why a book store cannot remain a permanent part of this community. People read, here. Perhaps they prefer their material on a hard brick. Mea culpa. I just purchased a kindle, myself. (Again. The last one is at the bottom of the San Francisco Bay) You can believe in the curse or, you can use logic. Now, it is possible whilst mom, the owner of bookstore, who was rarely there, had her daughter mind the mill, Apple was anything but diligent in caring for mom's dream. You might be correct, sir, in thinking it could have been a factor in why the store didn't make it. The young-ish offspring was usually seen sprawled in a comfy chair (meant for customers) playing on her phone, ignoring the piles of books that needed to be sorted and stacked. Near the end ( I knew it was near the end) daughter just did not give a hoot whether people were in the store as wanna be buyers looked puzzled when there was no one behind the counter. The garbage overflowed, books fell off shelves and lay scattered on dirty floors, and the complimentary tea was nowhere to be seen. Curses!
The other store to leave was a Swedish bakery. OMG. It felt like home to me. I don't understand why they left so suddenly. It seemed to be doing well. I found a notice on their door stating they had had, '...a wonderful 4 1/2 years... Goodbye.' It always had people coming in who bought the extremely expensive food, handmade trolls and knitted socks. I was always intimidated by the server, another sullen young woman who seemed to hate every moment she stood behind the glass case of kaldomar, pannkakor and kringla, whilst warming blintzes. Was she another yoot-spring stuck in a job she did not want? Ja, perhaps.
You can't make your dreams come true by using family members who have other dreams. That's my sermon for the day.
Of course, we all know the real reason these lovely finds vanished.
"Donald Trump refuses to be manipulated, intimidated or controlled. What is manipulation, intimidation and control? It’s witchcraft. Trump refuses to bow the knee to the witchcraft of media. Media has had a spirit working behind it for so long it could make or break you in your career. With Trump, the arrows of media are like a pea shooter. It bounces off the armor. It’s not working. Why? Trump has authority in the realm of media and in the governmental arena. Right now hollywood, media and government is manifesting. What’s next? Watch college campuses for protests, etc. Strongholds are being shaken and hooks are being pulled out. "- Lance Wallnau Your Sunday sermon brought to you by Lance Wallnau.