My friends Katherine and Jim and their kids were at an outdoor event when a small, dirty, scruffy, friendly little beast decided upon them as her family. After depositing the creature in a shelter and waiting the requisite time, the now-named Coconut was brought home.
She immediately took on the obnoxious little sister role to Kirby (who is only two, himself) and fun is now had by all.
Note Kirby’s brilliant bull-doze technique in the last video. And, yes, that is the voice I use when I talk to animals. And babies. Sigh.
To make the video play, press the large play button to start the slideshow, then the small play button on the first picture at bottom. Technology rules!
I had an interesting few days, when everything in my body decided to exit out in a most garish and horrifying manner, accompanied by a constant, low-grade fever that roasted me slowly but in no way deliciously. Fortunately, it was foul but fairly brief — like being trampled by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. (I’ve always kind of dug the Four Horsemen imagery. Where did that come from? I’m too trampled-feeling to look it up right now. It’s not a biblical thing, is it? Uh oh I’m digressing, linear thinking was the first thing I threw up, apparently)
Ok! So! Since this was going on the second half of the week, I was home anyway, and supposed to be working at my nonprofit job (a job that doesn’t offer sick pay). By yesterday I kept thinking that I was well enough to sit up and do some work, so I’d lurch out of bed then trace a loooong, slooow arc around my apartment before collapsing back into bed, where I’d get sucked into another nap and another few hours of television.
And, since my body really would like me to be a nocturnal creature (complete with giant eyes and a pouch!), I found myself awake and almost perky at random, wee hours. I kept the TV on and would absorb programming at intervals. Here are three totally wacked out moments that came my way:
A “Land of the Lost” parody that was just so weirdly hilarious. I had to look that one up: it was Saul of the Mole Men on [adult swim]. Somebody, go watch it and see if it’s funny when not accompanied by a 101 degree temperature.
On yet another home makeover show (they are the cancer of cable TV these days, good god), a bedroom was being demo-ed and reno-ed (or whatevero-ed). The host and homeowner were standing in the bedroom, the doorway of which was fitted with a flimsy aluminum door. The host said “shhh, watch this!” and made a elaborate show of silently peeling a banana. Suddenly, the carpenter smashed through the door, grabbed the banana, and devoured it with blank-eyed intensity. Later in the same show, the carpenter was made to sit in the corner because he damaged some molding. Odd and amusing exception to the prefab dialog dreck that normally grace these shows.
Triumph the Comic Insult Dog interviewed Ralph Nadar on Conan O’Brien. I’ve always felt lukewarm towards the Triumph bit, but good god, he just went at Nadar, accusing him of fucking up the 2000 elections while Nader stammered and yammered and made bad jokes. I usually am much more softhearted and hate attacks like that but oh, it felt so good. Insane. Insane that it took a man attached to a weird, rubbery hand puppet to say what I’ve been silently screaming these eight years.
I found the clip online. Here’s an excerpt of the transcript:
Triumph: Admit it: you just tried to get your name out there, right? ‘Why did Al Gore lose? Because of Ralph Nader!’
Ralph: Dogs should not tell lies. The Republicans stole it from them…
Triumph: They stole it but it would’ve been harder to steal if you hadn’t campaigned in Florida!
Ralph: No, actually.. Gore won the popular vote..
Triumph: You did — c’mon, you screwed Al Gore! You campaigned in the swing states!
Ralph: Politics has gone to the dogs with two parties …
Triumph [in singsong voice:] You campaigned in the swing states! You campaigned in the swing states!
Postscript: I’m going to have to track down that home makeover clip. The I think about it the more it seems like delirium. Also, I’m feeling better, thanks for asking, but still experiencing intermittent heave-ho in the stomachal region. Many thanks to Gary, who brought liquids that first really bad day. Someday I’ll eat food and see humans again. Maybe I’ll eat some humans, too. What? Hi!
His pictures and descriptions are charming (especially “A Great Big Convoy of Vintage Delivery Vans w/ Matches“) and all sellers of stuff should take a lesson from him on how to make a customer feel like they are being offered an opportunity to buy a little bit of magic.
Andrew and I have an enduring bond over our mutual love of the Pretty Things. Decoration is not a frivolous “extra” for us; the objets that we choose to surround us with are bits and pieces that make up to the plot of an eternal inner narrative; tiny, shiny mirrors reflecting a little bit of our thing — soul? Essence?
I know they’re only things, but isn’t life so much more interesting when RoboFan is in it?
The very first quilt I ever ever made was in 2001. It was a baby blanket for the offspring of my good friends Danny and Alison. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, hacking squares and feeling my way along. But thoughts of the baby kept me working and hoping. After enlisting the help of my friend Nancy (story detailed here), I got it done and bestowed, then lovely Henry came and all was well with the world.
I don’t have a picture of that particular quilt with that particular baby, as I was not an obsessive life-documenter back then. However, since ’01 was the Year of the Infant, I had a chance to make a similar one not long after, for Al and Dewey’s little Pepper Rose:
I know. One cute baby.
Back to that first quilt. Time moved on. Henry stopped being a baby and, a few years ago, Alison joined the world famous band The Sippy Cups. Suddenly, the quilt found new life as padding inside her keyboard case. The quilt hit the road! Such exciting and unexpected new life for a humble little patchwork.
And then, a once in a lifetime opportunity. The Cups is a rock band for kids, and their stage show is fabulously circus-like. At a gig this summer, the giant flower prop broke! They had to jury-rig the stem, and find something to cover up the damage. So, guess what?
If a comment you have made has subsequently disappeared, it’s me. My fault. I accidentally designated a page of valid comments as spam, and I might have done it before, too. My comment management system has no “oh shit! i take that back!” dunce-proof feature, so your thoughtful and always-delightful comments are gone. Gone.
I’m sorry. And sad! Please carry on. And:
Don’t give up on us baby
Don’t make the wrong seem right
The future isn’t just one night
It’s written in the moonlight
And painted on the stars
We can’t change ours
Don’t give up on us baby
We’re still worth one more try
I know it would have last one by
Just for a rainy evening
And maybe stars are few
Don’t give up on us I know
We can still come through
I really lost my head last night
You got a right to stop believing
There’s still a little love left even so
Don’t give up on us baby
Lord knows we’ve come this far
Can’t we stay the way we are
The angel and the dreamer
Who sometimes plays the fool
Don’t give up on us I know
We can still come through, ooh
It’s written in the moonlight
And painted on the stars
We can’t change ours
Don’t give up on us baby
We’re still worth one more try
I know it would have last one by
Just for a rainy evening
And maybe stars are few
Don’t give up on us I know
We can still come through
Don’t give up on us baby
Don’t give up on us baby…
I was idly reading this article, Bill Would End Virginia’s Sangria Ban, when huh, I wondered, what’s the deal with sangria? Apparently, Virginia had some kind of oddball law prohibiting wine with spirits. Wine with spirits? What th’?
I Googled sangria recipes and, contrary to my assumptions, sangria often contains more than just red wine and fruit. It often contains other alcohol, as well — brandy, triple sec, even sometimes gin. Uh oh.
{Cue montage of Becky swigging sangria all over the United States in her younger years. The montage becomes darker as we see her getting ejected from ChaChaCha — twice. She spills a glass of sangria all over her aunt’s shoes at Easter. She corners actors at a party in San Francisco and does her turkey impression — over and over.}
Soooo, there’s hard booze in sangria. Not just wine. That explains a whole lot.
For your inner starling (or whatever that bird is that likes to collect the bright and the shiny), may I direct you to the 
