Zombie Virus Spreads, Mutates Much Like Swine Flu

When it rains, it pours.....................as if the zombie problem wasn't nuisance enough, now the swine flu is vying for terrifying news of the week. It had just better not get any ideas about bonding with the zombie germs and becoming the undead flu, because a virus is way too small to shoot in the brain without major magnification, and it is just too much trouble.
Pictured above are examples of human-pet zombie attacks, lion-on-lion zombification, the after-math of kitteh zombeh-fication, and a nifty educational poster to help you through the next few days.

Still Not Undead

This photo was taken some weeks back here in Austin. The news of the aftermath has been largely ignored. I'm writing this in hopes that someone in the outside world will read it................. The effects of the zombie infestation on the 20-somethings has been the most negligible. They continue to be mindless conforming consumers, and they were so steeped in hipster ennui at their time of conversion to the walking dead that they pose no actual threat, being too ironic and cynical to even attempt to feast on the flesh of the living.
As for the rest, this being Texas, the zombies all died of starvation after 2 days---not enough brains to keep even an anorexic zombie [dibs on the name for a band] unalive .

Bulletin: Plants Apparantly Grow in Spring

I keep checking on them, and every day they get a little bit bigger. The authorities must be alerted!

Topical! The Musical

Watching Keith Olberman, I was struck with an inspiration for a Fox-Searchlight movie about the AIG execs...................ScumBag Millionaires!
These jokes just write themselves sometimes......................................

Bloggin' O' the Green

Happy day to you all. Pictured here are

A: The shamrocks that the faeries planted
( I filled the planter with a potting and compost mix, and planted a banana tree in it. Between the drought and the various freezes, it died. Now it is quite literally overflowing with the shamrocks that inexplicably have popped up in it's place. )

B: Half of my vegetable garden. Lettuces, beets, mustard, kale, broccoli, garlic, and onion.

album cover waiting to happen

empty nest, bare tree--it just begs to be the cover to an emo band's debut...........use your imagination.

cold comfort--racing kane

bare memory--dialectic division

just kinda unfocus your brain and it will come to you............

Inspiration!!

My fabulous friend Lisa said something tonight that
A: made me giggle like a demented chipmunk, and
B: gave me inspiration for a horror project (most likely to be produced as a puppet show)

She remarked that cows freak her out--the vacant eyes--what if they're faking it?

OMG!!! What an awesome premise for a horror flick!! Cows are really evil genius' that are controlling us through the food chain! They want you to eat beef/drink milk/wear leather, so they can saturate us with their evil mind control hormones or whatever it is they are using, to whatever nefarious end!!! It's just goofy enough to be really disturbing...........................yesssss, excellent.................................................

Caption This, Too.

Caption This

Butterfly-EEEEEEEEEEEEE

T-Shirt Design That Just Came To Me......................

Get it? Like the "I'm with Stupid" shirt, but with a big bloody knife instead, 'cuz of the whole "psycho" angle..........................................*sigh* I hate it when you look at me like that...........

Don't Worry--Its Only A Hallucination

Our Reseach Department Resumes Work After A Long Holiday

..........and I'm afraid the droids need recalibrating (or Betty, our head of R&D may need a med change) based on this memo I received today:

"Concerning Chicken Ears:

Our research has shown that the most delicious part of the chicken is the ear. The ear of the chicken is so tempting and mouth-wateringly scrumptious that the first thing a baby chick does, even before breaking out of the shell, is to eat their own ears. Just try to bite yourself on the ear--that is how motivated the chick is to get at it's own tantalizing delectable ear meat. It not only tries, but it manages to gnaw it's own ears all the way off, leaving absolutely no lingering, drool inducing morsels as evidence--the greedy bastards."

Clearly, there is a problem somewhere.

Well! Did you ever! What a swell party this is..............

It has been a non-stop gala event here at IRBHN World Head Quarters. After the New Year's festivities, we celebrated our most important event--the birthday of our founder and chief.
(me, silly!)
Pictured above is our devoted and talented staff:

Top left: Dr Angst, looking cheerful (for him). The good doctor has been testing his ennui bomb here at the IRBHNWHQ, resulting in very little actually getting done. I mean, why bother? What's the point? What does it all mean??? ( sorry--recent exposure to an ennui grenade)
Top center: We have absolutely no idea who this is. We all gasped with surprise, then indulged in a round of "so--you see him, too?". Seems we've all seen him around the office, and just assumed he was a hallucination and kept quiet about it. Dr Angst denies all knowledge, but that's to be expected. He might be a genie or something--I hope so. I always wanted a genie friend......
Top right: Ellen (Nelly) Bourgeois, head of human resources and cafeteria dinner lady. Before you accuse me of overworking her, let tell you--it's all her idea. She also caters our parties. I've developed a taste for eye of newt..........
Bottom left: Me, on one of my better days, and after one of Madame Bourgeois' more hair raising lunch entrees.
Center: Betty Bourgeois, daughter of Nelly, also head of research and development.
Right: You-You (in gorilla suit), newest (probationary) member of the staff. You-You will be joining us full time after his old job officially ends next week. He has some bold ideas, mostly about invading other blogs that may at some future date develop technology that would pose a threat to IRBHN. He lived here in Austin about 8 years ago, and needs a place to crash, so I decided "what the hell?", plus Madame B likes to make him wear the monkey suit.

I just turned 48, and am experiencing a bout of "future disgust"--it is much like "future shock", but with more existential nausea and inertia. Again, Dr Angst is playing innocent..........

Happy New Year

Best wishes for the new year to you all,as we re-negotiate our service contract with the chimps that type this stuff up for us. We've received an application from a chimp soon to be unemployed, asking for a position here at IRBHN ( Washington D.C. postmark).
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.........possibilities for comic mis-adventures is pretty high, but still......

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.