Xmas Day Imrovisation

So, sometimes my quasi-hipster-smart-ass-self parodying mouth gets me in these situations.................like dropping in on neighborhood friends on Christmas day with toys for their rowdy boys (9 year old twins and 15 year old emo boy big brother).




I chose "room-a-rangs" for their combined playability and safety (what boy doesn't want to throw things in the house?)

And, being a self parodying old hippie, I quipped "Just dropped by to distribute wholesome, all ages fun, and sing a song about unicorns and the environment"--setting myself up for a room full of expectant faces, waiting for the song.................so I improvised:

"Unicorns love to pollute,
kill all the unicorns you can shoot".

I never said it was a nice song about unicorns and the environment......................

At Last, We Roast Our Goose For Xmas

Taarzaan:

(sings)

It’s the day before Xmas, and here on the blog

we’re gonna roast Kurt O’er the flaming Yule Log

reader response was tepid at best

but here’s just a few who must

get-- this –off- their- chests!

[tepid, insincere applause]

Thank you, thank you…[FEEDBACK]………….welcome to the first ever Xmas Eve Day Celebrity Blogger Roast! An event so big that it’s happening on TWO BLOGS! That’s right, our roastee couldn’t be here today, thanks to an injunction and three different restraining orders…[EXTRA LOUD FEEDBACK]…………[applause]…thank you.

When you think “curmudgeon” who pops into mind?

When you think “unemployed”, who are you thinking of?

When you think “banjo playing lay about who somehow manages to travel the world, while the rest of us go to work”. is there anyone in the world other than OPE’s very own Kurt Xxxx? Hell no!

We’ve gathered today to share our thoughts and feelings for and about Kurt. We all think Kurt is a [FEEDBACK]er, and who doesn’t share the opinion that he [FEEDBACK/LOUD WHINING FEEDBACK] when no one’s looking? But enough chit chat—on to the guests!

First up, we have our own little conscience, Blogdom’s very own Julia!

[APPLAUSE]

Julia:

Today I'm here to honor our good blogmaster, Kurt. What can I say about a man who is loved and respected by everyone who knows him? One thing I can say is he’s not the man I’ll be talking about today. (Cue uproarious laughter)

Kurt inspires me every day. I’ve already written about him on my own blog one whole time in only four years of blogging. Kurt is a selfless man. He gets personal satisfaction when we whore out our own blogs while pretending to write for him. He was selfless enough to give Taarzaan permission to do this roast, so my taking time out of my full and exciting life to write this was not in vain.

Kurt is a perfect gentleman, not at all creepy. I know this because he assures me that it is considered perfectly healthy for a man his age to maintain a fixed interest on Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. Just remember it’s a fixed interest. We avoid the word “obsession”.

Reading OPE gives me an edge on today’s news that none of my real world friends have. They are constantly amazed by the stories I bring to them. Let’s just say jaws drop and heads slowly shake. That’s how you know they’re really impressed. Kurt is first with the inside scoop that you will get nowhere else. Seriously, google his stories. You won’t find them anywhere.

Kurt is a man of many talents. He’s a goat herder, sunflower farmer, clafouti maker extraordinaire, and prolific newspaper rejectee.

They say you can learn a lot about a person by looking at those he associates with. Kurt is a man of the people. I’m talking about the average folks who work hard every day with a love of God and country in their hearts. Folks like Nan Patience, who lives in folksy backwoods places and work on their road kill photography. Folks like Merle Sneed, the champion of illegal immigrants and death row inmates. Folks like Taarzaan, the guy I know nothing about. And folks like me, your everyday middle of the road vegetarian homeschooling mama. Thanks, Kurt, for sharing some of yourself with us regular people.

Taarzaan: Thank you, Julia. You are far too kind. Next, we have a limerick from the lovely and talented Emma:

Emma: There once was a blogger named Kurt, you see
Who’s writing left his readers in ecstasy
But when he skipped town
We tore his place down
As we all pined and moaned for some dirt.

We wonder whether he is a male
His complexion is pasty and pale
Todd refuses to say
What they do every day
But I hear it could land them in jail.

So in writing this little rhymed roast
I refuse to give Kurt Xxxxx a toast
Unless he confesses
If it’s true he wears dresses
Or else of his manhood he can boast.

Taarzaan: That was surprisingly un-smutty, Emma---better luck next year, eh?

Next up, an unidentified source wearing a mask has this to say:

[Unidentified reader]:

well, well, well. well. well, i knew kurt back in the real world in a large american city on the west coast where he was once allowed to teach young children. he was also allowed to mentor young nubile lady teachers. i mean, really young, like 21 or 27... they were young and he liked it. thing is, whenever i try to talk to them about kurt, they don't say much. kind of roll their eyes a bit, giggle uncomfortably and squirm a bit in their chairs. then the next thing i know they're talking about their kids and husbands and what they plan to cook for dinner, and they speak in such soothing warm tones, i forget that i even mentioned what's his name. and they don't remind me... and they're not even young anymore, i mean, they're like 34 or 39...

well, well, I know that Kurt was a good mentor to them. they turned out to be some of the fave teachers. Lots of dads request their classes, that's what I hear, anyway. I guess it was such an overwhelmingly good experience that they are kind of, um, overwhelmed whenever they think about it. i liked seeing the photo of Kurt with the little Egyptian children. I hope he taught them something good.

Taarzaan: I’m blushing. Let’s hear what Megan has to say:

Megan:

Kurt,

I have known you only a short time, and in that short time my life has not changed much. It used to be when I was feeling down about myself, I would look around at those less fortunate, and feel a little better. Now, all I need to do is look at your archives. At least that means I don't have to go outdoors more than is necessary.

I have gazed in boredom at your seemingly endless supply of interns.

I have stuck by you in spite of your dependence on Todd. If there is such a person. It's getting to the point that if I am introduced to someone by the name of Todd, I look at him or her in a highly peculiar way.

Inexplicably entangled, I tried to buy your friendship. It didn't work. The age-old dilemma of Artist/Patron has separated us, almost at birth, as it were. I can only declaim that my intentions were honorable. That the introduction of the pound of flesh into our fledgling relationship should have tarnished it so completely, means only that I must suffer from the consequence of privilege. And I can deal with that.

In the meantime, I have remained in wait while you have gallivanted about, living your "real" life, and only caring enough about me to leave a few words on almost every single post I've written since we first met. Not that I've noticed.

If asked, I would deny all contact. If challenged, I would admit an affinity. If tortured, I'd give up everything I know.

Sincerely,

A Subscriber for Life.

Taarzaan: Thank you, thank you all. I’d just like to take this moment to share the most important thing I’ve learned from Kurt—the phrase “unless I don’t feel like it”. Thanks, Kurt!

Ok---ya’ll don’t have to go home, but the hall is being used for a Rotary Club meeting in 20 minutes, so sayonara until next time!

And don't neglect to drop by Other People Exist for Kurt's rebuttal.

...............making a list

Dear Santa,
Just a quick note--first, sorry about last year. That feud with the tooth fairy caused me to calibrate the security system to be extra sensitive to supernatural anthropomorphic manifestations. My commitment to the extinction of that dental douche bag blinded me to larger issues, and I apologize. I hope you are feeling better by now.
Second, I wanted to let you know that the IRBHNWHQ has been invaded by tropical birds.
Two of them. Don't be afraid of them, but don't get too close, either--they are evil.
And lastly---you'll find the money and the name of the target by the milk and cookies. Try to make it look like an accident.

Pure Unbiased Scientific Research

We here at IRBHN World Head Quarters spare no effort in our tireless research into the matter of waiters & skeeziness. Today we publish our findings on the influence of owners upon their pets, as it relates to the whole waiter=skeezy equation.

We assembled a crack team of dogs—one belonging to an engineer,

one to a paleontologist, and the third to a waiter.

We provided the dogs with a 20 x 20 room filled with bones, and left them to their own devices. The following is an excerpt from our observation log:

8:00am: Dogs sniff each other, establish dominance/hierarchy

8:15am: Paleontologists dog (Alpha) assembles bones into reproductions of dinosaurs (T-Rex, Stegosaur, and Triceratops)

8:30 am: Engineer’s dog (beta) assembles bones into architectural reproductions (Eiffel Tower, Roman Coliseum, and Sydney Opera House)

9:00 am: Waiter’s dog (omega) chops bones into powder with razor blade, snorts powder, fucks other two dogs, calls in sick

........its just that they're so endearing when they're young............

(Your typical skeezy waiter: NOT the topic of tonight's post)

My war with the waiter tribe will resume probably tomorrow, but for tonight, I must confess--I just tipped a waiter 50%. Seriously.

OK--set up. There I was, off from work early, not attending the office Xmas party, out shopping for cool weird crap to give my friends and co-workers, after having a great week tip-wise, and in a surprisingly good mood, holiday depression taken into account. I stopped in at the neighborhood Mexican Restaurant for a solo dinner, and sat in "Alex"'s section--on his first night working there. Unspoiled by bad influence of co-workers, horrid customers, and mendacious management, he was just the perfect mix of funny banter (<5%),attentiveness(>80%), and BS charm(15%)(he "carded" me). How could I be anything other than generous???

No fear--I shall resume casting aspersions upon the House of Server soon enough. For tonight, let there be peace between us.

RIP Bettie Page

22nd April 1922---11th December 2008
Rest in peace Goddess of The Sexual Revolution.

Gentle Suggestions on the Topic of Tipping Your MT

I received an e-mail from a famous globe trotting, banjo playing blogger that contained the following words:" I'm shocked to find that $5 is a bad tip for a massage".

Many approach tipping their Massage Therapist in the same way as a waiter/server.
That will never do! Does the waiter take your order, prepare it, and then feed it to you, stroking your throat to induce swallowing? No, your waiter is off at other tables, out smoking a cig, snorting meth in the kitchen, chatting on their cell phones---you get the picture.

Your massage therapist, on the other hand, has their hands directly on you for about an hour, and the massage isn't happening unless they are directly exerting themselves. It is as different as is possible from a waiter's gig. Also, your massage therapist is a well trained, licensed and insured allied health professional. Your waiter is a skeezy stoner who has fucked at least half of their co-workers and stolen as much flatware and water glasses as possible.

So the next time you contemplate tipping your MT, imagine what the experience would be like if the MT bopped from table to table, stopped to smoke/smoke out, chat on the phone, have a quicky in the walk in freezer, and steal.

Sock Abuse

just a monkey


















Just this guy


















cuddly sock alien

IRBHN Interviews: Taarzaan

We caught up with blogger, massage therapist, and insufferable pedant Taarzaan in his high-tech Austin lair, and posed the question on so few people’s minds—

“Taarzan, WTF?”.

IRBHN: So, “Taarzaan”—what’s up with all the big words and shit?

Taarzaan: “Vocabulary”.

IRBHN: Whatever. So, how come you don’t use little, easy to understand words? How come you gotta be all……. I dunno……..

Taarzaan: I never feel comfortable “dumbing things down”—I feel like it is an insult to the intelligence of the reader. As a child, I always resented being spoken to as though I was feeble minded. In fact, I detested Captain Kangaroo—I felt like he was patronizing me.

IRBHN: …………

Taarzaan: I mean, I didn’t know the word “patronize”, but I had a strong sense of it’s meaning—anyway, I always enjoyed something more if I had to stretch a bit—so I guess I project that onto the imagined audience.

IRBHN:………………..ok. So, what about that “roast” thing?

Taarzaan: Believe it or not, I’ve only received three contributions—Kurt read them, seems pretty cool with it---but I keep hoping for more, and a nice rebuttal from Kurt-Kurt-Kurty-Kurt-Kurt. So I wait another few days, maybe a week……..

IRBHN: Stalling—we get it. Like with the Todd clones, right?

Taarzaan: Whatever.

Still to come: Taarzaan’s secrets revealed.

Unless we don’t feel like it.

Phrontistery Phun Phollow Up

We here at IRBHN World Head Quarters would never ignore a mandate from the reading public. We may not respond appropriately, but we would never ignore something like that.

"Mandate?", you may ask----"What mandate?". Well, if you don't call two requests for pronunciation a mandate, then I am stuck for something to write about puzzled as to your definition of "mandate" (something like a "guy crush"?).

When investigating the proper pronunciation of obsolete words, one must use the proper tools---in this case, our trusty ouija board. We made contact with Samuel Johnson and Noah Webster (separately, as we have but one functioning ouija board, and the thought of the unholy row those two might get into.....)

Samuel Johnson: Damn you, sir! Damn your sorcery!! What heretical jackanapery is this? What? You want the pronunciation of words no longer used???? Are you serious?? Think, man---if they are no longer is use, how then would anyone know if you mispronounce them? Now be off--I've reincarnated as a trophy wife in Tokyo, and I'm about to go do something that always gets me diamonds.

Noah Webster: beep! You've reached the afterlife voice mail of Noah Webster--sorry we can't take your call at this time, as we've recently reincarnated in Tokyo, and are busy enjoying the attentions of a trophy wife and buying diamonds.

So--I'm going to "wing it"--

alabandical-- al-uh-ban-dik-ul
amarulence-- ah-mar-yoo-lence
aretaloger--air-ret-tall-oh-jer
brabeum--bray-bee-um
brephophagist--bref--foe--fage-ist
celeberrimous--sell-i-berry-mus
defedate--def-feh-date
drollic--drole-ick
gnathonize--nath-un-eyes
hemerine--hem-mer-een

Phrontistery Phun

Yearly evaluations have come and gone, and I totally didn't get shot--again!


As a show of gratitude to those who's comments may have had a wee hand in keeping my brain bullet free for another 12 months, and in the spirit of friday slacking off public service, please accept this offering of "lost" words (actual words out of common usage) from
http://phrontistery.info

alabandical	adj	1656 -1775
barbarous; stupefied from drink amarulence n 1731 -1755 bitterness; spite

aretaloger	n	1623 -1656
braggart; one who boasts about his own accomplishments brabeum n 1675 -1675 reward or prize brephophagist n 1731 -1875 one who eats babies celeberrimous adj 1768 -1768 very or most highly celebrated defedate v 1669 -1669 to defile; to pollute drollic adj 1743 -1743 of or pertaining to puppet shows gnathonize v 1619 -1727 to flatter hemerine adj 1854 -1886 daily; quotidian Electric Blogging Engine, IRBHN World HQ

There! a nice little quiver full of verbal arrows to fire into your daily conversations with the folks you meet during your day--the Draughtsman, the Chirurgeon, the Town Crier, the Chandler and the Fletcher.......we take no responsibility if you get beaten up.

That Time of Year Again

Science is Hard

We here at IRBHN World Head Quarters are ever in a process of learning from our mistakes, refining, and hopefully improving. That is why, when faced with questions such as : "When will the Todd clones be ready?", we reply(in a hopefully quite refined way) "Dunno".

Our past efforts at cloning and recombining DNA have not been without mishap. But we forge ever on, our collective eyes on that brighter future, where everyone, even Todd, has a Todd of their own. (One of our better efforts, the "Whooshing Crane", able to finish its winter migration in 45 minutes)

(One of our minor disasters,relaxing on the set of "Sex and the City")

US recession 'began last year'

“No Shit, Sherlock” replies US public

“The US entered a recession in December 2007, according to the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER).

Its business cycle dating committee, which is considered the arbiter of whether the US is in recession, met on Friday to make the decision.”

We assembled a panel of experts to give their perspective on the situation:

Betty Bourgeois (student): Dating Committee? OMG!! That’s what my girlfriends and me call ourselves-----we all have to approve before a guy can date any one of us. That’s just SO HOT—do you think they can introduce us to some rich guys?

Jeremy Boswell (laborer): So, this committee decides whether or not we are in a recession? Well, they made the wrong decision, buddy, ‘cuz I’m gonna kick their recession-making asses! That’ll teach ‘em to screw with the economy like that…….

Taarzaan (future warlord): When civilization collapses, those pencil necks on that damn committee had best steer clear of my cave, because people without useful skills will be EATEN………..that goes double for “DJ”s, understand? You can just start calling yourself ”DJ Filling Snack”, or “DJ Tasty Treat”, you useless little twerps.

Never mind the wolf at the door---there's a damn BEAR at the WINDOW!!!!

IRBHN: Your Springboard to Smut

We here at IRBHN World Headquarters(TM) are sensitive to your special, unspoken, and deeply embarrassing personal needs.

We know that the one thing you long for most (besides that last piece of pumpkin pie left over from Thursday) is a website you can feel good about leaving to surf for porn. We understand that some sites are so kind and sweet and squeaky clean that it makes you feel dirty (and not in a fun way) when the very next website you visit is one of your appalling fetish sites.

Well, we here at IRBHN won't bat a single eyelash if you drop by, just to forge on to whatever sweaty little den of perversion you're into this week. You may sleep soundly knowing that there is almost nothing that could possibly shock us (although disgust is ever an option).



(It is difficult to tell whether the phallic bit in the middle is some high-tech no-no toy, or a bong.)

Things to Do Now That I’m Back from OPE

Its not much, but I call it home.

1. Dust off keyboard, interweb cables; politely shoo away the family of opossums that has taken up residence in my blogging chamber. (Maybe they could move into the unused portion of the music room).

2. Pay a visit to the cloning lab; make sure Todds are comfy in stasis chambers.

3. Unpack, distribute gifts of stolen silverware/towels/grooming supplies to friends.

4. Analyze hair samples extracted from OPE carpets—identify Kurt’s, make special doll.

5. Shave, groom for work.

Riffing on Kurt's Latest Thread at OPE

For Kurt, and for my really dim young friends who don't know many big words, I hereby now
POST ALPACA LIPSTICK.

Royals Roll Out Red Carpet for Mariana's Birthday

(Lisboa,Portugal) In a last ditch effort to be useful, heads of the ruling families of Europe assembled to celebrate Mariana's birthday, and to crown her Queen of Blogging.
"What a bloody bother", said Mariana, "I mean, they mean well and all, and it is nice getting presents, but these guys have been following me all day--the red carpet has to be laid out before I walk anywhere, or else they get really upset. Also, the lady with the cake doesn't seem to have much of a grip on anything other than that cake--and she won't allow anyone to slice it--not that these guys should be trusted with anything sharp--all the inbreeding has taken it's toll."
The well meaning but silly royals presented Mariana with a "Blogging Crown"--at first glance what appears to be a conical red party hat, but upon further inspection proved to be the remnants of a witch's hat, possibly confiscated during the 1600s. "This hat thingy just doesn't match any of my shoes, plus the damned thing keeps whispering to me--I was working on an Image Association post, or trying to, at least--and now I don't have the post, but I learned a spell that turns horses into rabbits--really really big rabbits. Just what the world needs, right?"

Happy Birthday, Mariana!

Meme--I got Tagged by Mariana at Gatochy's Blog

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Locate the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences on your blog and in so doing…
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

From the 1948 Good Housekeeping Cookbook:

"Cover necks well with clam liquid or water; cook about 10 min. Strain liquid into soup; discard necks. Add tomatoes, 2 cups more of clam liquid, soft parts of clams, and flour combined with 2 tablsp. of water."

I'm only tagging Mendacious--Kurt would beat me (or send an intern), and Delta is way too busy being a productive citizen of Finland, and Sebastien hasn't updated in a while, and......you get it.
Oh, BTW--it's a recipe for curry clam soup.

Random Stuff

So---back when I thought I would be moving to Montana, I placed some sprouting potatoes in my compost heap--the same heap I'd put all my potting soil and organic compost in. They took off and grew like crazy, and yesterday I harvested fresh spuds from my garden. Never having had them fresh from the earth before, allow me to say "WOW!!". Tender--amazingly so. Made the most toothsome hashbrowns at breakfast, and mashed at dinner--you could just plotz. I'm going to try soup, next. There will be onions to harvest soon---probably going to become soup, too. (I'm a soup crazed soup addict--don't try to get between me and the broth if ya know what's good fer ya)
Speaking of soup--I made fresh cream of mushroom last night---again with the "wow". Using half-n-half makes a big difference (no more skim in my soup, merci beaucoup)
And being truly random, let me say that The Long Kiss Goodnight is my favorite Geena Davis movie.

Reprinted from The Onion

Stop Making Movies About My Books

By Dr. Seuss
April 2, 2008 | Issue 44•14

• On the fourteenth of March, in towns nationwide,
• In every cinema, multiplex, on every barnside,
• Gleamed another adapting of one of my books,
• CGI-ed and digitized by another sly crook.

• Horton, my favorite—look how he's been treated!
• Stuffed with tinsels and tassels and promptly excreted!
• The puns! And the filler! The script fees you must save!
• While I tumble and grum-humble around in my grave.

• Did you learn all but squat from The Cat In The Hat?
• Please tell me you fired the prick who made that.
• I would have stopped writing, maybe sold Goodyear tires.
• If I knew one dark day I'd costar with Mike Myers.

• And Oh!
• Oh, dear! Oh!
• My poor Grinch, what they've done!
• They crammed in live-action and snuffed out all the fun!

• It's icky, it's tacky, it's awkward, it's wrong.
• The Whos look like ferrets, it's an hour too long.
• What a rotten idea to spend millions destroying
• This masterful tale kids spent decades enjoying!

• But still you keep making them!
• Just how do you dare?
• Sell my life's work off piecemeal
• To every Tom, Dick, and Har'.

• Why it's simply an outrage—a crime, you must judge!—
• To crap on my books with this big-budget sludge.
• My books are for children to learn ones and twos in,
• Not commercialous slop for Jim Carrey to ruin.

• Have you no respect for the gems of your youth?
• To pervert them on screen from Taiwan to Duluth.
• Even after you drag my last word through the dirt,
• I know you, you pirates,
• You'd cut out my heart for a "Thing 1" T-shirt.

• For eighty-some years I held you vultures at bay,
• knowing just how you'd franchise my good name some day.
• Not yet cold in my grave before you starting shooting
• the first of my classics you'd acquired for looting.

• Mrs. Seuss, that old stoofus, began selling more rights
• to Dreamworks, Universal—any hack in her sights.
• First The Cat In The Hat and then this, that and Seussical
• without a thought to be picky, selectish, or choosical.

• So to Audrey, you whore, you sad sack of a wife:
• Listen close. Pay attention, for once in your life.
• You give Fox In Sox to those sharks who made Elf
• And so help me, I'll rise up and kill you myself.

• No Sneetches by Sony—
• No One Fish: On Ice—
• Burn that Hop On Pop II script not one time but twice.
• Don't sex up my prose with Alyssa Milano…
• And no Green Eggs And Ham with that one-note Romano!

• This must stop! This must end! Don't you see what you're doing?
• You're defiling the work I spent ages accruing.
• And when it's dried up and you've sucked out your pay
• There'll be no going back to a simpler day,

• When your mom would give Horton a voice extra deep,
• And turn the last page as you drifted to sleep.
• Instead you'll have boxed sets, shit movies, and… well,
• You'll have plenty to watch while you're burning in hell.

At The Movies with Amber: 10,000 B.C.

Amber called to ask if I wanted to go see "10,000 B.C." with her. (duh!!)
We met at our neighborhood theatre that serves food and wine and stuff (yum! and Hic!)
The movie was cool to look at (Amber gave it points for the HHNGF(hot half naked guy factor)),
but she was displeased with the relative lack of giant sabre-tooth kitty screen time (it was, after all, the reason we were there, besides the wine and chocolate cake and pizza and stuff).
I learned a bunch of stuff, like I always do at the movies (like the Spartans were totally straight)
Here's what I learned:
Prehistoric people had really great teeth/skin/hair, and they totally lacked cooties and zits, and cavities and stains and gross stuff like that.
The Egyptians built the pyramids in pre-history by using woolly mammoths or maybe mastodons, and they were totally ok in the desert heat, and didn't faint or even look uncomfortable (the big hairy elephants, not the Egyptians).
Pre-historic people had less blood than modern people, because you could run them through with big spears and stuff, and there wouldn't be any messy pools of gore anywhere--just like in the 40's and 50's (pre-history to today's young folks), and they didn't get infections from cuts and stuff--lucky pre-historic people!
I think you should run, not walk, to the theatre to see this movie if Amber calls and asks you, but she probably won't, now that she knows that the preview had about as much giant kitty time as the rest of the movie (the giant kitty must have a really good agent).
Don't be sad!

A trio for my inner child

Hes got a real twisted sense of humor,poor little guy.....but seeing how he's been pretty unhappy for a while, I thought I'd give him a treat. Plus,he hasn't taken money out of my wallet in months, so he totally deserves these.
My apologies to all my tasteful friends, and PBS.

Toxic Uke