The Singing Cowboy
The Democrats must cringe every time Harry Reid opens his gob. As usual, Michael Ramirez was a day ahead of me and had a better punchline. Dude is my hero.
By the way, I know there are peculiar liabilities to every job, but how many of you have ever thought to yourself, “I’m drawing Harry Reid’s crotch right now”? Yeah, that’s why I gave him a gun.
Oh! And I talked to my chicken pusher this morning. He hasn’t hatched any Pekin Bantams this year on account of it’s been too cold. He’s got some in the incubator now, should be out in a week. I want them about six weeks old (so I don’t have to faff with heat lamps), so we’re probably talking early April.
And having read everywhere that chickens love cabbages — we have kzillions of cabbages that need uprooting before the Spring planting — Uncle B and I chased chickens all around the garden with cabbage today. I think it’s fair to say, they are fucking terrified of cabbage. And completely uninterested, even when it’s torn into little chicken-beak-sized bits.
But it did bring up an interesting question: do chickens fart? The answer is no. Probably.
Good weekend, everyone!
March 11, 2011 — 7:32 pm
Comments: 23
President Firstlady
So the whole Middle East is bursting into flame, the Mid West is exploding in union thuggery, public broadcasting is disappearing up its own asshole, they’re holding hearings on radicalized Islam on Capitol Hill…ummm…two wars, economy in meltdown, and the President of the United States is holding a two day summit on…bullies?!
Are you fucking kidding me?
Is there no-one in his entourage who gets how big the office is, and how small this makes him look? This is the kind of pointless frippery First Ladies wile away their tenure on. He looked more presidential pardoning the freaking turkey last year.
All politics aside, this is not good. These are serious times; an unserious president puts the whole West in danger.
— 12:42 am
Comments: 29
The one on the left, not so much
The Telegraph says chickens are capable of empathy. Huh. They don’t know Mapp.
I got nothing today, so I might as well give you a chicken update. The picture is the girls from last year, but we are hoping to pick up a couple more pullets this month. Gots to get on the phone to my chicken pusher.
We haven’t decided whether to stick with an E.F. Benson theme, or to call the new birds Betty and Wilma or Peanut Butter and Jelly or Sturm and Drang or something. I suppose it’s best to go birds first, then names.
Mixing in new chickens is going to be fun. It’ll be like the Crips and the Bloods out there until pecking order is established.
Oddly enough, Mapp is easily the most aggressive, adventurous and downright manic hen, but gentle Lucia is Boss Chicken. Cluck softly and carry a big beak is her motto.
Got the first egg of the season last week, and three more since. Still pretty sure it’s just Lucia laying, though.
The day something large and hard comes out of Mapp’s bottom, there’s going to be a BE-GACK heard ’round the world.
March 9, 2011 — 11:27 pm
Comments: 29
This will not end well
You know the people who are saying Charlie Sheen might actually do better without his sitcom gig, now that he’s internet famous? Yeah, I entertained the thought, until I saw that last video.
Dude looks like shit.
Old. And sick. And beat-down.
And crazy, of course. The crazy goes without saying. You can be as balls-out crazy as you like, but if you want to hang on to your celebrity status, you simply cannot look bad.
March 8, 2011 — 11:48 pm
Comments: 36
The cheese stands alone
I’ve always found the phrase incredibly sad and disturbing. This is what it looks like in my head.
Poor cheese. Poor damn cheese.
Is that all I have for you today? No, of course not. I also have this.
PocketFart ™ uses advanced flatulence simulator technology to produce custom audio events, anything from a short and sweet toot to an epic monster blast…With just a finger gesture, you can stylize one-of-a-kind farts. Modulate qualities such as fart duration and sphincter tightness, allowing you to produce unlimited combinations!…Many kinds of farts included: O Tight One, Monster Butt and more…Convenient fart playback styles for added flair…
Today’s secret word is cheese.
March 7, 2011 — 7:14 pm
Comments: 25
Honk shoe, honk shoe
March 4, 2011 — 11:15 pm
Comments: 23
End of an era
No, no…not poor old Jane Russell here, who fell off the twig this week, age 89. Bless her heart. There’s always something disturbing about visualizing the old age of people known primarily for their scorching hot sex appeal.
No, I mean Steamboat McGoo, who’s giving up blogging to spend more time at Denny’s. About his scorching hot sex appeal I do not wish to think.
If there’s one thing Ms Russell and Mr McGoo had in common, it was an almost mystical belief in the redemptive power of the booby.
G’wan over and wish the old coot well.
Me, I’ve got a routine blood draw tomorrow, so I’ve had nothing but oatmeal all day, nothing but water from now until morning, and no booze tonight. In a word, meh.
March 3, 2011 — 10:59 pm
Comments: 20
The more you know…
Did you know, Providence, RI is the home of the diner? I did. And then I forgot. And then my mother-in-law called up all excited to tell me it, after she heard it on the radio late last night.
It says here, Walter Scott pulled a horse-drawn wagon up in front of the offices of the Providence Journal and sold plain grub to the newspapermen in 1872.
It’s hard to believe that was the first time anyone pulled food by horse and cart to a line of hungry men, but Providence is jealous of the title, so humor them. To this day, there are a bajillion excellent vintage diners in and around Providence. I’m pretty sure I’ve hit every one on this list.
The American Diner Museum isn’t actually a museum yet, but they’re working to restore a couple of old classics. Some neat info there, including a list of diners for sale. I totally think you should buy one.
The diner in the picture is still going strong in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. I used to live in Pawtucket — Land o’ Limericks — and many’s a hearty Saturday breakfast I’ve eaten at the Modern. Mmmm-mmm!
No idea who the old geezer in the picture is. I stole it off somebody’s blog or Flickr stream or something. His name is Bob, apparently.
Everybody, wave to Bob!
— 12:51 am
Comments: 22
Aw, adorable stoat baby
My new all-singing, all-dancing, 64-bit butt kicker graphic computer has allowed me to revisit all kinds of funness. Like Second Life.
I opened an account at Second Life four years ago (long-time readers almost certainly will not remember Monkeyface McShavedperson). But my old computer and my busy life meant I didn’t spend much time at it.
So, take two. New computer, no life. Until I am clever enough to build my own avatar, I had to buy one. Closest I could get to a stoat was this here albino ferret. Close but not quite right.
Fortunately, I was able to upload some graphics that were a little more…me. Here’s my game face.
I’ve already made one girl scream. Yay!
Anyhow, that’s the signal characteristic of Second Life — users can make things. There’s a simple 3D builder program and scripting language built in, and you can upload images and textures (for a small fee). It’s lead to a thriving online economy in virtual objects. A sort of Market of Weirdness.
Of course, this also makes SL laggy and hinky. You have to stand in one place for a while before you’ve downloaded all the custom objects and textures and your surroundings settle down a little.
The real appeal? I take a sneaking pleasure overhearing conversations, especially between users who have voice enabled. It’s like the old days when the phone lines would go fuckup and you could listen to a mystery conversation between strangers miles away. I’m not proud of this.
Also, people seem to love to say “Stooooateeeee.” I am proud of this.
Also, it’s in the back of my mind I might some day make my living crafting really good furry porn.
March 2, 2011 — 12:09 am
Comments: 22
Fact check? My ass!
I swear to god somebody in my Twitter stream or a blog or Drudge or something said today was the anniversary of the founding of the GOP. So I did this stupid drawing, and then I went to authenticate the story. As far as I can tell, February 28 has no significance what-so-ever to the Republican Party.
Shit.
Screw it, I’m running with it anyway. This thing has Monday written all over it.
First person that says “measure twice, cut once” — I’ma pop you one.
February 28, 2011 — 11:31 pm
Comments: 23