Still sucks to be here...continued.

“This is Nebraska,” he says. “It’s a terrible place to be. It is an ultraconservative, ultra-racist state. I would not advise anybody black to come here.”

Read it and weep.

Need That Last Minute Christmas Gift?

I guess they really do sell everything.

(Who knew?) And don't forget to read the 'Comments' section...

Catball.

Or if you prefer, a "Ball O' Cats."

I like cats, I really do. It's my immune system that doesn't. And while that sucks, I'm generally able to get through the inconvenience that snot, boogers, and crusty stuff in my eyes create quite nicely with the help of some Benadryl. But sometimes, I get overcome by an incoming attack of cuteness, and allow 10-day old kittens to curl up in my lap in a furry, purring, writhing, catball. And that's how this adorable (slap me if I ever use the word 'darling' as an adjective) photo came to be.

These precious little things came to be due to my dear friend Leslie's highly libidinous cats. You see, Avalon and Ashley have just gotta have it, if you get my meaning, and I think you do. Right when Leslie plans to take them on a visit to the local spay and neuter clinic, las gatas locas make a run for it, and start catting around, and well--catballs ensue.

If anyone has a pattern for a kitty-cat chastity belt please e-mail me immediately.

Thank you.

Tacky, yet useful-The Series.

Today's helpful hint combines functionality with environmental awareness. Plus, it keeps the cat out of your yarn as you attempt to make something with it.

Materials required:

Scissors or an exacto knife
a big plastic bottle of your choice,
and some yarn.

Cut the bottle in half, widthwise. Take the bottom part and cut a notch in it lengthwise, about an inch or two. Stick the yarn in the bottom part, thread through the top part (bottle opening), then wedge the two together.

And there you have it. A cheap, tacky, and functional yarn container thast keeps the damn cat (or whomever) out of your yarn while you try to make something with it. You can even dress it up a bit by creating a bottle cozy. If you want to go completely ol' skool, make a hideous looking plastic canvas cuff to fit around it so you can obscure the split in the bottle. This is a project that just SKA-REEEEEMS Red Heart Super Saver, or better yet, Phentex!--so everybody getcha some and get busy, baby...

It's not just me.

Cousin Elaine, Mummy power napping, & Lil' Walter

For those of you who expect a bit more knitting content, see the middle shot which features my mother, inadvertantly modelling the leg warmers I made for her birthday. Elaine lives in the Denver area, as does (not so) Lil' Walter. Elaine is struggling with a bad nicotine habit, and Walter is frequently teased about his resemblance to the character 'Hercules' from Eddie Murphy's remake of "The Nutty Professor." (In all fairness, he had a few beers when I shot the picture). As is the case with Yours Truly, it's difficult to tell if he's tipsy, or is just straight up goofy, without the help of chemical substances.

I realize that any number of you knitting types want to see what I've been working on during my absence, so I offer to you the following, featuring me in a wife beater, modelling the gauntlets I made from yarn purchased in Vermont at the Wool & Sheep Festival, as well as one of my many pairs of Addi's. I have other things, but I don't really feel like posting them right here, right now. So get off my back.

Thank you.

* Mother has no idea whatsoever that this picture is on the web, for all the world to see. A word to the wise, s.v.p.

Hey...who knew?

Visual proof as to why it's a damn good thing I didn't bet on this game.

Suffice it to say, the game which took place Friday last didn't go anything thing like I expected. Understand, however, that this is a good thing indeed, if only because we didn't have to blow cans of perfectly good Reddi-Whip in Cousin Larry's face. Instead, we used them on the pies for which nature intended. And yeah verily, they were good.

Meanwhile, my plans to return to La Belle Province on Tuesday remain solid. Everyone wish me luck so that I don't get in trouble with the Evilest of TSA Inspectors, Ms. Mary Lee McCarty. I'm really getting sick of having to call her tired ass out.

Trapped.

This has nothing to do with my post--I just like mountain goats.

Despite my best intentions to bust outta this midwestern hell-hole, I've been coerced into stayihg an additional week, and will be here for American Thanksgiving, plus the requisite 'day-after' football game featuring Nebraska losing huge to Colorado. This will be viewed on TV at my cousin Janet's house, and will probably involve some measure of violence directed toward my cousin Larry, who as a 'native Colorado-an' will be merciless in running smack, all freaking afternoon. Two years ago, he got pied with leftover Reddi-Whip (directly in the grill), because he didn't know when to stop. Since this year's team sucks to the absolute max, we'll have to make a run to Sam's Club so we can blast him early and often...

How on earth could I possibly miss that kind of fun?

So I'll be back November 28-ish. Stay tuned for additional details.

Attention all you "Hip Middle-Age Urban Knitters"

You're a hip knitter! Anything in style, in vogue,
in fashion, or expensive is your thing! I bet
you're a big fan of the Tiny Diva....


Are you a knitter?
brought to you by Quizilla

Look before you leap (Colorado Style)

I actually saw this reported on Denver TV newscasts during my visit west...

This is yet another reason you should never sit directly on the seat during a visit to the loo. And if you must, if there is anything (absolutely anything at all) on the surface of the seat, find another crapper. Dig?

Bite Me, Omaha.

The few excuses for being in Omaha generally revolve around food. Read this and learn perfectly useless details about one of the greasiest of sandwiches, The Reuben.

N.B.: The Blackstone Hotel building now houses offices, including the headquarters of Berkshire-Hathaway Investments, run by the obscenely rich (and hopelessly geeky) Warren Buffett. Mr. Buffett's daughter Susie is one of three owners of String of Purls, a big-ass yarn joint, also located in Omaha. Jo simply adores their bags, (and hell--so do I).

Dyeing for more yarn?

While checking out the latest at my favorite neigborhood yarn supplier, Touché, I met a lovely lady who dyes yarn in her home, and happens to live in the same zip code as Mother's crib. I examined some of her creations (actually, I fondled them for over a half-hour), and they're really quite lovely. She spins everything using a spindle, yet the consistency is remarkably uniform. Like our knitting amiga Kate Gilbert, she's due to give birth very soon, but she doesn't expect that to cramp her spinning/dyeing style in the least! When time permits, she plans to upgrade her website, but you can get a nice idea of her offerings by clicking on this link.

For those of you interested in having me import some Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride upon my return to La Belle Province, here are the details you've been waiting for:

Price: Worsted or Bulky weight - $6.95 US per skein
Nebraska Sales Tax: 7.0%

Feel free to pay me in US funds or if you rather, Canadian. I'll calculate the rate of exchange based on the day of delivery. Let me know what colors you want via e-mail, and I'll respond accordingly.

(Pssst! I'm taking a brief side trip to Denver from Wednesday to Friday this week, and will not be away from my e-mail during that time--so don't be concerned if you don't get an immediate reply. Thank you.)

Okay, I'm out. Stay real.

What to do (when there's nothing to be done)...

As I spend some time here in the Great (?) Plains, I like to end my day curled up with one of those freakishly large "Big Gulp" containers chock-full of ice water (right from the tap), some knitting, and Mummy's police scanner cranked up so I can catch up on the latest goings on between the good people of Da 'Hood (North O), El Barrio (South O), and Omaha's Finest (aka The Po-Po). It's a great way to kill a few hours while catching up on the many projects I'm working on for Christmas.

While you can't be here to suffer with me, at least you too can tune in to the madcap hijinx of the OPD by following this link. And be sure to turn up your speakers so you can hear. I'd recommend that you read the local fishwrap, but that's just too far beyond the bounds of human suffering for me to ask of anyone (although they do have one of the hottest sportswriters on the planet). It's a shame that his writing could put a meth addict to sleep, but I guess you can't have it all.

Let me know if anything good goes down while I'm away. I hate missing out on any excitement (because damn-- it so rarely happens 'round these parts).

Finally! A profile that actually gets it right!!!

Your Personality Profile

You are dependable, popular, and observant. Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness. In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do. You are unique, creative, and expressive. You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while. And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming!

The World's Shortest Personality Test

The Vermont Sheep & Wool Festival - Recap(s)

"The Morning After"

Way back when, I said I'd describe the Montreal Knits weekend outing to the Vermont Sheep & Wool Festival, that was held October 1st & 2nd.

I forgot.

But in the meantime, I did drop kind of an open letter to devoted knitter Caroline, describing in brief, our activities...and it went like this:

Salut Caroline!

Our trip to Vermont was loads of fun, and oddly enough, nobody was arrested. Nobody even had to undergo a strip search at the border, either.

The quick overview is that we got some nice buys at the festival, and even saw this sheep named Molly Anne, who basically ignored our Molly Ann, and stayed at the back of her pen, chewing straw for what seemed like days.

Later, we attempted to do a little partying in our rooms, after making a trip to a grocery store, where we bought mass quantities of junk food and wine coolers. We must be a bunch of old farts, because we pretty much pooped out after supper, and fell asleep before 3:00 a.m.

Sunday we spend the day buying stuff we can't afford (mostly clothing), and Véronik blew everyone's mind with her ability to find great buys in clothes at a very rapid pace. Her services were offered for anyone who wanted them, but I think Mona was the only one to accept.

After spending most of whatever was left, we hung out at a coffee place downtown, where we knitted, got loud and silly, and ate some really good vegetarian chili and multi-grain bread, baked at the place. (You'd have loved that part, too).

On the ride home, we gossiped about various celebrities, and talked about how much trashy fun the original version of 'Lance et Compte' was to watch.

I tricked Mona to take a long, circuitious route to my door, where Melanie had to make a nature call, due to the unplanned length of the ride. Mona, Melanie, and Véronik got to meet my son Fidel (the guinea pig), and touched his ass, because he's got really long fur that hangs off his back end like a bad hair piece. A good time was had by all. After that, they continued homeward.

The End.

Next time, we're kidnapping you so you can come with us, and make lots of mischief.

Okay, see you soon,

- Deawn

If you require more 'actual knitting-related' content, you should click on over to Mona's site, because she described it far better than I ever could...And don't forget to check out this part, with the (semi-) incriminating pictures too!

Sheer (and Opaque) Genius

Talk about versatile...dig it:

"The Many Moods of Clapotis"

Now that's what I call creative!

A couple of blasts from the past...Especially For You(s).

This post (and links) are dedicated to all the knitters in attendance yesterday at the Second Cup at St. Catherine & Bleury. I won't embarrass you futher by naming names, but something tells me you're going to click on this link and this link just to see what's on the other end...

More from the 'Oh Wow' Dept.

Picture this: naked and bleeding, a burglar plops onto the floor from the ceiling of a 'Check 'n Go' outlet, then leaps to his feet, and scurries out the door...

That's the premise behind a really cliché comedy skit--and an actual occurrence that took place early Thursday morning in Darlington, South Carolina. Read it and weep.

As if that's not pitiful enough, here's the long-awaited post of the 'Sanitary Holiday Slippers' which I mentioned ages ago, but neglected to include the photo. You'll want to get right on this in time for the fall craft shows and holiday gift giving. Me, I think it'd be swell* to whip up a pack of 48 (that's 12 pairs of slippers) for a church bizarre.*

Happy crafting!

*Yes, I meant to do that. Both times. So deal.

The Bold & The Beautiful

These two photos are shots from actual convenience store/gas stations in the midwest. I post them here as proof for those in attendance at the last Montreal Knitting Thang, held last Wednesday evening. You'd think that with the high cost of fuel, the ownership behind 'Kum & Go' would harbor some concern that the name might encourage drive-offs. One thing is for sure--the idea for the name of this place is unabashedly male. (Conversely, 'Pump 'n Munch' seems to reflect more of a female sensibility...)

Speaking of which, we discussed which guy on TLC's 'While You Were Out' is hotter. I argued for Andrew Dan Jumbo (pictured left), while the majority preferred John Bruce (on the right). I'm not one of those people who is impressed by big, huge, massive, rippling ,enormous muscles (per se), however I think in reviewing the entire package, the evidence speaks for itself. Loud. Deafening, even.

Then again, I might have unusual tastes...I don't like rhubarb, fried liver, or tapioca pudding, either.

Favor, please!

I urge you to kindly go to this site, and vote for Herbie Husker. The contest requires you to vote in each matchup listed, and since I couldn't care less about any of the others, pick whomever else you like--as long as you don't forget to vote for Herbie Husker.

(Normally I wouldn't advocate voting for a team so dull that their mascot of choice is some boring-ass WASP, but hell; it does seem to accurately represent the place...)

Yes, I realize he has a big, cheesy grin, but what they hell...just play along. And be sure you vote at least once daily until the contest's end. It'd help if you put the word out there, so your friends, enemies, e-mail buddies, co-workers, and relatives can help stuff the ballot box with us!

Thank you for your cooperation.

This result is a damn lie...

But I don't think the test has been written that acurately captures my complex nature (and my natural complexes). And the only thing woolly about me is my hair. Nevertheless...


You are Shetland Wool.
You are a traditional sort who can sometimes be a
little on the harsh side. Though you look
delicate you are tough as nails and prone to
intricacies. Despite your acerbic ways you are
widely respected and even revered.


What kind of yarn are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

A Rambling Update & Commentary on Gooberism

Ever order three hanks of luscious angora, then forget what-the-hell you planned to knit with it?

Lately, I've been even more absent-minded than usual (no, I didn't find my glasses), so it's par for the course, I guess. It is, however, bloody inconvenient. Whatever it is I end up making, hopefully will come out nicely. Maybe it'll come back to me in a dream. My dreams are a rich source of inspiration to me. Especially the ones where I can do gymnastics really well, and can flip and fly effortlessly. Those are very cool.

This weekend, I look forward to attending the Vermont Wool & Sheep Festival, which I pray, will be nothing like a 4-H exhibit. 4-H is um... interesting, but the goobers showing stuff tend to stare at my mother and me like we're the freaks. They're wrong. What's more, they're rude, as well. They have that slack-jawed gaze that suggests they don't get out much, and are easily stunned by the devistating beauty of a couple of Nubian Queens. I say to them, "don't hate--appreciate." Can you dig it...? I knew that you could.

But I digress. The group I'm attending with is Most Festive, so no doubt lots of fun will be had, early and often. I'll provide you with a review upon my return.

I hope the good men and women of the US Border Patrol (and Homeland Insecurity) will be gracious enough to allow me entry into America. They have been known to react in a similar manner as the 4-H gang.

If you don't hear from me after this post, please send yarn.

Merci.

Big (and not -so-big) News!!

As discussed at the past two Montreal Knits, uh...thangs:

My kind of lawn care...
Shades of Kronenberg's Dead Ringers?
Ever wonder where your favorite bra went?

and finally:

Breaking News from The Bulge Report!
because we like to link to the very worst.
(Merci).

Correct a misconception, then verify the truth.

Perhaps it's the PMS talking, but this shockwave vignette amused me greatly.

No matter where your hormones take you, this one is all about the truth.

You might say both are deeply penetrating in so many ways...

Obligatory Knitting Content

This is another one of those funky little items I recently completed. It's a scarf, and although it's oozing with color, it's one piece. Somebody's getting it for Christmas, but I can't say who, exactly. I made it with a couple of balls of Noro Kureyon using size 6mm needles in mistake rib. It's inspired by the Rainbow Scarf in Joelle Hoverson's "Last Minute Knitted Gifts." Since I work slow as hell, I started early. It's listed in the chapter for shit you can make in two to four hours; it took me slightly more than a few weeks.

In addition, I was greatly influenced by Axelle de Sauveterre's Klee Scarf, but too broke to actually buy any of her delicious hand-painted yarn. (That, and I can't imagine giving anything made with it to anyone but Me, Myself & I).

Here's the real deal--I can't possibly work on one thing at a time. I pick it up, put it down, I start new stuff, I get distracted. I'm restless as hell, and have the attention span of a mosquito. Oddly enough, I can however, sit still longer than anyone I know. So get off my back already...

When life SUX.

Did you know...

that the three-letter code for the airport in Sioux City, Iowa is SUX?

It's true. And if you think that's bad, just be happy you don't have to live there. (Because, in reality, it does).

Famous Sioux Citians Include: Pauline Esther Friedman Phillips (Dear Abby), Esther Pauline Friedman Lederer (aka Ann Landers), Fred Grandy (Gopher from "The Love Boat"), and Jerry Mathers (as The Beaver).

Both Gopher and The Beaver from one piddly-ass town? Sounds like they have a problem with vermin. Who knew?!

The Good, The Bad & The Fugly

Case in point, the neighbor's Shitmobile.

I believe you can decide for yourselves as to the categories this monstrosity belongs. As you can see, it's parked on the street, and not in my space for a pleasant change. It sounds as bad as it looks--aside from a non-functioning trunk latch, missing gas cap, donut instead of a rear tire, and lots of other jacked-up mess on this thing, it lacks a proper exhaust system; i.e. a muffler. Not only is it offensive to the eyes, but to the ears, as well. In effect, it's a full-scale assault on the senses. Then again, the knuckleheads living upstairs have no sense--or so it seems.

Now that I've covered The Bad and The Fugly, I present to you, The Good. Exquisite, actually! It's a shot of the lovely Molly Ann modelling her creation, which is now complete. I adore this shawl--and the colors are magnificent. In addition, I'd like to give a shout-out to Ms. Véronik Avery, who was gracious enough to take the photo for me. (She's a photography whiz, as well as designer par excellence).
Moving right along, here's a photo of Kadi and Véronik with Kadi's version of Clapotis (or as Susan and Yours Truly think of it, that thing we love to hate, because we keep screwing it up). As of this posting, it's grown by leaps and bounds, and is deliciously soft to the touch. I forget which kind of yarn Kadi is using, but I'll look into it, and let you know later.

A little background, for those who aren't hip--Kadi hates having her picture taken, and usually hides her face. Véronik is stifling a laugh, which is something she does a lot while in my company. I've decided not to take it personally, but she does seem to enjoy messing with me a lot. Maybe it's a Gemini thing. I'm not sure. At any rate, it gives me that feeling of belonging, so hey, it's all good. (I'm just waiting for her to spike my chai, at our next knitting thing...)

That's all for now...late!

Mmmm-mmm bad.

Today's Recipe can be found here.

(As discussed Wednesday, September 14, at the most recent Montreal Knits uh..."thing.")

Hell, at least it's not spam.

Stupid Joke O' The Day

This is incredibly lame, but I heard it from a nine year-old...

And it goes like this:

There was this family of Moles in a Mole Hole, tunnelling through the earth, when the Mama Mole goes, [sniff-sniff-sniff] "Hey, I smell something good--it smells like pancakes!"

Then the Papa Mole (who is right behind her) goes, [sniff-sniff-sniff] "I smell bacon!"

Big Sister Mole (next in line) does something similar, like [sniff-sniff-sniff] and says "I smell sausage!"

And finally, Baby Mole, staying true to his birth order profile of being a total ham, plays it for cheap laughs, after the obligatory [sniff-sniff-sniff], then announces,

"I smell MO-lasses!"

(Get it?)

The End.

I'm not really feeling The Smiths, but....

I'm supposedly this type of indie elitist.

C-86 post punk kid. You are completely aware that
the Smiths are the greatest band ever, and your
wardrobe probably consists of lots of different
Smiths t shirts that you alternate ever day,
because everyone must know how much you love
the Smiths.

What type of indie elitist are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin, to wash us away.
"Louisiana 1927"
- Randy Newman

Commentary:

Michael Moore

NY Times Editorial(Sept. 3, 2005)

Mississippians' Suffering Overshadowed AP (Sept. 3, 2005)


How to help:

Relocation


How to help


Get Involved:

Sally Anne

Craig's List - New Orleans, Gulfport, Biloxi

FEMA

US Coast Guard - Submit Missing/Stranded Persons Request

Katrina Update

Hurrucane Katrina - Refugee Connect

Gulf-Coast News Katrina Survivor Connector List

Hurrican Relocation Relief

Hurricane Housing

Think NOLA

Katrina Talk Support Forum

By request, Tommy Lee and the Big One(s).

Photos stolen from the Omaha Weird-Harold that were taken during Tommy Lee's visit to Dear Ol' Nebraska U. last autumn.It takes a very secure man to wield "Der Viener Schlinger"

...and while I was present at the game, I didn't get any of the wieners being schlung. We got our tickets from independent ticket brokers, an were located in Row 114 or someplace incredibly near the top of the stadium. For those of you who aren't familiar, Der Viener Schlinger is a fully-automatic, rapid-fire air gun that fires hot dogs from its uh...meat clip. (Only in Nebraska would someone actually have, yet alone develop, a meat clip).

Although there is so much for me to scorn in the state of Nebraska, I have to admit, Fairbury Brand Hot Dogs are exquisite. They're a lot like Hygrade wieners, in that they have this extra long-acting flavor-enhancer thing going on; that is, they tend to repeat on you for hours, if not days, afterward.

If you're suffering through the abomination that is "Tommy Lee Goes to College," then you know that he does in fact, make the drum line. I went to the game because it was homecoming--not because I was hoping to get a freebie off Tommy Lee. He's a tad too--deguelasse to me, but it's tough accounting for bad taste. Or even tastelessness. Like the rest of the 78-some odd thousand in attendance who weren't so blessed, I bought my lunch from the concession stands in the stadium.

What's more, the game was boring as hell--a complete blowout. Final score: Nebraska 59, Baylor 27.

Keeping the beat
(without the meat)

This is sick.

Which Horrible Affliction are you?
A Rum and Monkey disease.

How about a nice [complete] hysterectomy?

I provide for you this link, which contains bloody good commentary; much of which I can relate to. Especially now.

N.B.: You might not want to read it if you're eating. Then again, you might. But don't say you weren't warned.

My uterus hates me.

Normally I don't sweat that kind of thing, but this whole "Revenge of the Reproductive Organs" is really cramping my style. (Sorry--but not really).

It (along with my upstairs neighbors) jacked up my entire weekend by acting out, and ruining my plans. I apologize profusely for not attending the Montreal Knitting Thing on Sunday last, especially because I said I would. I awakened with a killer migraine on Sunday, and that basically put the kibosh on me doing anything besides eating 222s and keeping very still in a darkened room. The new neighbors upstairs invited four of their noisiest friends, and they spent 72 consecutive hours practising routines from Riverdance...

I hate them so much right now.

Once they were instructed not to park in the neighbor's parking space, they decided it'd be fun to park their hooptie in mine. (So what if my car is 3000 kilometers away?) I was feeling Extra Bitchy, given the PMS and migraine. Therefore, I told them to move the shit immediately, and Never, Ever, Do It Again. And for fuck's sake, stop with all the damn pounding on the floor!!!

That having been said, I'm currently enduring the joy of being a woman, and sincerely expect to be in attendance Sunday. I regret missing the opportunity to see Rolf in the flesh (might I add, his chest hair is nothing short of magnificent!), as well as the joy of watching their friend Thomas knit a sock. In public. Around a wad of females. He seems extremely comfortable with it in the photos, and that kind of thing is to be encouraged early and often.

If you wish to take a look for yourselves, follow this link...

When good fellas make bad choices.

Anything that starts out with the words, "Former mobster-turned-chef" has got to be good. However, chef might be assuming far too much, in this regard; then again, I've never actually eaten there. God willing, I won't ever have to, either.

For reference, note the proximity to Brown Sheep Wool of Mitchell:

= Brown Sheep Wool (and white supremacists)



= Home of Henry's Ice & More


Yet another reason for me to steer absolutely clear of western Nebraska. (As if I needed any others...)

"Nebraska must be the most unexciting of all the states. Compared with it, Iowa is paradise."
-- Bill Bryson "The Lost Continent"