Presenting: The Human Hippity-Hop.

This is extraordinary, and that's just from looking. Can you imagine dragging...I mean, uh...wow. That's all I can say. Wow.

P.S. In the event you're too young (or forgetful) to recall, this is a Hippity-Hop. Resemblance is striking, isn't it?

P.P.S. Sorry about that. No really. I couldn't resist.

Still smokin' baby...

Nothing makes me laugh uncontrollably like bad grammar, poor spelling, and insulting comments. Why not follow this link and have a few chuckles for yourself!

Leftovers again?

This is what I chose to do with some leftover yarn that was taking space and ruining the feng shui up in here. Motivated by the 70's hit "Funky Worm", I modified the design found in a back issue of "Spun" magazine. Sure, mine doesn't look like the one displayed with the pattern, but I was fresh out of googly eyeballs. That, and it's going to a baby, and I don't want her eating its eyes off, or anything. Subconsciously, I was inspired by three elements in this piece--Dizzy Gillespie, radioactive poisoning, and a bad drawing of the human colon. Or maybe it's unconsciously. Whatever...

As if this weren't already apparent...

You appear to be a Knitting Adventurer.
You are through those knitting growing pains and
feeling more adventurous. You can follow a
standard pattern if it's not too complicated
and know where to go to get help. Maybe you've
started to experiment with different fibers and
you might be eyeing a book with a cool
technique you've never tried. Perhaps you
prefer to stick to other people's patterns but
you are trying to challenge yourself more.
Regardless of your preference, you are
continually trying to grow as a knitter, and as
well you should since your non-knitting friends
are probably dropping some serious hints, these
days.

What Kind of Knitter Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

The Graves Family Orchestra, Circa 1923.

This photo is simply fabulous. I say that because it is, and because Grandma is in it (on baby grand). My Great-Uncle Earle is wailing on alto (the guy behind the cellist), and my Great-Grandfather Walter is the stern looking dude on cello. Since they're musicians, it's possible they're on more than that, but I refuse to speculate). The cat on skins is Charlie Bowman. I knew him only briefly, as he died when I was eight. I have no clue who is playing tenor sax, but he looks to be a damn sight happier than Grandpa Walter. I wonder if the reason he looks so hard-core has something to do with him playing cello in a jazz group... Actually, I heard some Old Family Stories about life in Hiawatha, Kansas, 1923. No doubt they contributed to his stress level, and untimely death at 53 years of age...

At any rate, I was asked to scan this ancient photo (in which everyone is now deceased) for the Preston Love Jazz Museum & Cultural Center in Omaha, Nebraska. My Uncle Earle was a most prominent musician, back in the day, and he continued his musical career by leading an orchestra that played everything from swing to polka! (It was the midwest, you dig). His group even had a contortionist. Now, That's Entertainment.

One of the reasons I posted this photo is because it's just so damn cool. Another reason is to prove to people that there are in fact, short people who were related to me. Sure, you can't tell that they're short from this old photo, but aside from Abraham Lincoln, can you even name 15 tall people from way-back-when? That's what I thought. The final reason (for now, anyway) I posted this, is to demonstrate that The Partridge Family wasn't the first group to travel around playing gigs wearing strange clothing. Grandma was all of 15 years old in this shot, and even played for silent movies in Hiawatha. As for her shoes, hey--I know I'm loving 'em. I must have a veritable shitload of granny boots myself. (We have more in common beside appearance and musical talent--I do believe I inherited her podiatric issues, as well.)

Grandma died in 1998, as did Uncle Earle in 1977. But thanks to the as-yet unknown curator of the Preston Love Jazz Museum & Cultural Center, and the internet, they will not be forgotten. Hopefully, some of the little snots coming up will pay a visit, and give their props to those deserving. However, if they don't, it's all good. Because you saw it here first!

P.S. Isn't it 'deep' that Grandma's maiden name was 'Graves' and she ended up marrying an undertaker?

P.P.S. At least, I think it is. And if you know what's good for you, you will too. I'm enduring killer PMS these days, and don't feel like reading any crap. So just go along with things, until I give the all clear. Thank you.

Don't hate, appreciate.

I did this, because it was on Lee Ann's amazing new blog...

The truth is, the older I get, the cooler I get.
I can't help it.
It's just who I am.
(Can ya dig it?)

This is just a damn shame...

I got no comment, other than keep these freaks away from your kids.

You've been warned.

Layering gone horribly wrong.

Damn. Now that's hideous.



But the site it came from is an absolute riot.

Disgusting things that got my attention.

"Carroll Puzzled Over Flesh Found In Water System"
This is just plain gross.

"Man Says He Bit Into Flesh In Sandwich"
Finger-lickin' bad.

and finally...

"Justin Timberlake's Hose"
Uhhh...no comment.

Kick'em where it hurts (early and often).

If I ever post a link to the world's worst rag (The Omaha Weird-Harold)* they now require registration to read articles at their site. Feel free to use the following:

login: owhregsucks@gmail.com
password: owhregsucks

* They do, however, have the world's hottest sportswriter.

Why so many bags, lately?

Because I felt like it. That's why.

Made from leftover bits of "Lamb's Pride" from the Brown Sheep Company, it employs the Meema's Marsupial Bag & Pouch pattern from the nouveau classic, "Stitch & Bitch" by Debbie Stoller. Only, I didn't make the little pouch, because I have enough stuff hanging off me all day long, for Christ's sake...

Say it loud...I'm multi-colored and proud.

Mother, modelling my most recent poncho creation.

Once again, I used the pattern Villa from the archives of knitty.com. Mother requested something a tad more 'lively' than the green poncho, so I moved ever-so-slightly toward the gaudy end of things.

She's going to kill me for posting this picture of her without any makeup.

Moonlight Mohair Madness

Here is a pic of the poncho/shawl/wrap, etc., I made using the free pattern courtesy of Lion Brand Yarn. I chose Moonlight Mohair in Safari 203, rather than Purple Mountain 206 used in the pattern photo, because I'm difficult that way. Actually, I found this color to be a bit louder than the purplish shades, and after having been subjected to so much beige for the last few months, something gaudy just felt right. It knits up quite fast, with size 13mm needles. (What this really means, is that I have yet to get the stronger progressive lenses I so desperately need). Therefore, I shall continue to knit with bigass needles until said eyewear has been purchased.

Word.

A slot maven, I'm not.

Please forgive me if I've offended those of you who really enjoy wasting time and losing coinage in casinos. (If you're the type who wins a lot, I'm hating all over you right about now, but that's not important now).

The thing is, I have two more bags to felt, and I'm desperately short in quarters. Actually, I'm desperately short of money, but hey--things are tough all over. I'm not at all lucky when it comes to anything that involves gambling (or hell, winning). Therefore, trying to win a stash of quarters so I can finish the bags isn't bloody likely.

Meanwhile, here are some pics so you can get an idea of what said bags might look like...eventually.

N.B.: I really wasn't going for a camo theme on the smaller bag--it just turned out that way. I have been feeling particularly aggressive lately, but not G.I. Jane-ish or anything.One thing's for certain--I'm feeling the green thing very intensely!

Must Corporate=Evil ?

I've been trying to shake the vestiges of these cluster headaches which have been wrecking havoc on my being for several weeks now. Just as I was about to return to health, I go in for my weekly volunteer gig at a not-for-profit agency, and am slammed between the eyes with the news that one my favorite employees (and friends), is, as the expression goes, "no longer working there..."

Suffice it to say, my headaches have returned in full glory, and I'm really getting sick of this whole corporate thang--no matter what their particular profit motive is. Supposedly, her job has been eliminated, etc., etc. Riiiiiiiiiiight. I know what that means. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say no more...

I'm too queasy to rant right now, but I"ll get back to this topic later. Meanwhile, I have pills to eat, and pain to ease. (Physical and otherwise).

Pearlie the Piggy & Yet Anotha Felted Bag

Pearl is getting a pedicure tomorrow. If she's good, I'll drive-thru Wendy's and share a salad with her. If she's not, I'll probably do the same thing. Who can resist that furry little face? She's such a sweetie!

The correlation between game & hideousness.

This is just plain wrong, but I have to concur with the Sam Cassell and Larry Bird thing...

Big ups to The Phat Phree site for breaking it down for us all.

Best of all, it qualifies as Can-Con!

You too can make a wallet from duct tape. Courtesy of our friends at 3M.

Plus, it makes a great gift!

Fingercorn.

I just made up a word. See, all this obsessive knitting, combined with my lousy-yet-inventive technique has given me this weird looking bump on the front of my right index finger, just between the first joint and the bottom of my nail. It just sort of sat there for about a month or so, and I wasn't even sure if it wasn't one of those mid-life finger crisis things that I'd imagined, so I didn't mention it to anyone. (Seriously, I was worried that it might be a wart, or something I've prided myself on never having, you know--like lice). But after consulting carefully with a trusted few, it appears to be like a corn on my finger; hence, the word "fingercorn".

I figure if you can have peppercorns, why not fingercorns?

I've tried using those little Dr. Scholl corn and callous removal products, but they're not particularly helpful. Dear Glenda from Touché told me to try Neosporin, while one of the SNB knitters suggested Bag Balm. (This is after all, an agricultural region. If it's good enough for udders, it's good enough for my fingercorn, n'est-çe pas?)

I'll keep you updated on developments as they shrivel up and go away...because anything less would seriously impair my career as a hand model. And we just can't have that.

Mama's Got A Brand New Bag.

This is another attempt at bag felting. I gave it to my mother, because she tries to bring the entire effing office home with her each evening. Once she gets home, she likes to complain about how her shoulder hurts. Gee, I wonder why... I decided to make handles from leather straps because I got lazy, and didn't feel like making an I-Cord. It's just as well, because now she can cram even more stuff into it. See how practicality can be big fun?!