29 September 2005

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.


25 September 2005

23 September 2005

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...

20 September 2005

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...

18 September 2005

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?!

17 September 2005

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!

15 September 2005

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.

14 September 2005

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.

11 September 2005

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

02 September 2005

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.

I am Rabies. Grrrrrrrr!
Which Horrible Affliction are you?
A Rum and Monkey disease.