I'm finally famous!

I'm not one to watch TV much.  So it came as a bit of a surprise when I learned today that an item I made was presented (on-camera) as a wedding gift on a recent episode of TLC's "Little People, Big World."  Too bad the item is ugly as sin, but that's what the customer insisted on.

Anyway, you can now say in all honesty that you have commenting privileges on a Big Time Hollywood Props Guy's personal blog.  Which, with about $4.50, will get you a small Starbucks.

Coming soon to a restroom near you

Just made my first batch of these signs for a well-known entity that all of you have heard of:

I kinda like the new wheelchair pictogram.  Much more dynamic than the old one.  But the he/she pictrogram is freaking me out.  Most genderless restrooms have separate and distinct male and female pictograms.  Was that really not inclusive enough?  Too binary?  To black-n-white?

I don't even know what else to say...

This is so weak I probably shouldn't post it

Can not / will not ever convert to Islam.  Tried wiping with my left hand one time.  It didn't go well.  #northpaw
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Grocery store was out of "normal" bananas so wife bought "organic."  Might as well have just bought 3 lbs of fruit flies and eliminated the middleman.  #sayyestothepesticides
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I'd pay good money for a Toddlerspeak version of Rosetta Stone.
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The arms race between the TP manufacturers to see who can cram the most paper on the roll has gotten out of hand.  When the roll barely fits in the dispenser that's bad.  Friction, owing to the snug fit, making it tear after every square (maybe Sheryl Crow was onto something?) is bad.  Having to fight with it until 1/3 of the roll is used before it starts to spin freely and function normally is doubleplusbad.  Not sure what I'm going to do about this, but jihad is still on the table.
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The other day, righty blogs had fun with this pic

wondering what the heck MichelleO is wearing.  In her defense, the hips of the person shown here fit on my display without having to resize my browser window.  Therefore, this cannot possibly be Our Lady of Unfortunate Proportions.  #notguilty
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As I work my way through my usual daily reading, I gotta say I am really tired of the schizophrenic "Wooo! Gonna be a Wave Election!" posts one day and "Wave not forming, Dems to hold Senate" the very next day.  The prevailing opinion moves around faster than Rodger's nose.  Wait, who is Rodger?  Rodger is our little white dwarf Holland Lop bunny.  We named him Rodger, with a "d" because naming him "Roger" would have been stupid and lame and unoriginal.  Rodger is the size of a small cat.  On the hardwood, he gets little traction and pretty much spins out constantly.  On grass or carpet, he is FAST.  On all surfaces, he is CUTE.  We got him for free off a craigslist ad.  He eats like a stoned community-college student, though, so he has turned out to be rather expensive for something that was supposed to be "free."  (insert comparison to socialized medicine here)
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$9 for a new electric can opener may seem like a bargain.  Trust me, it is not.  In fact, I'd like to go back to the store and dick-kick the manager of the Small Appliances section for selling me such a piece of garbage.

A whole new kind of pain

So...

I just got in from riding my bike home from work.  It's about 6.5 miles each way and mostly level, so even a sedentary old fart like me can make it without too much difficulty.  Anyway, I'd just crested the last high spot and was cruising along the downhill side at a pretty good clip when...

All of a sudden...

Smack!

A freakin' bee exploded on my lower lip!  For about one second, I thought it was just an "ordinary" insect as I spat out the yellow glop of goop (complete with cartoony "blech!" noises) that had previously been its innards.  But the one second elapsed pretty quickly and I was then confronted with PAIN.  Seems the little bastage did a bit of a Moby Dick/Wrath of Khan "I stab at thee" parting shot on me with his stinger.

Now my lip is all totally McSwollen and I look like I have half a pouch of Beech Nut in my face.

Happy Friday, everybody!

Barry Porous Border

A cabinet meeting.  Usual suspects in attendance.  Obama enters

[Obama] "Good morning!"

[collective groans and mutterings]

[Obama] "What's up?  Everybody still recovering from the weekend?  Dang, Eric, your hair seems to have gotten a lot grayer since Friday.  And you, Joe, look like a wreck.  What's happening around here?"

[Holder] "Well boss, my hair isn't so much 'grayer' as it is 'more singed'.  See, I was destroying IRS hard drives like you asked.  But the wood chipper was getting dull, so I started looking for a Plan B.  I got a hold of an acetylene torch.  I figured I'd just cut those hard drives into little pieces.  But I've never used a torch like that before.  There's these crazy gauges on the bottle, and all these valves everywhere.  Valves on the bottle.  Valves on the base of the torch.  I dunno how all that crap works.  But I did learn one thing:  stub out you smoldering choom before messing with acetylene."

[Obama] "Wow!  At least you're OK"

[Holder] "Yeah, but my ears are still ringing and my garage door landed in Hoboken.

[Obama] "Joe!  You must have partied hard! 'Cuz I've never seen a nearly bald guy with a Mohawk."

[Biden] "Umm, well, this morning after I shaved, I noticed my sideburns weren't quite even.  So I tried to trim the one side.  Then it was a little too high, so I tried to trim the other side.  Then it was a little too high, and next thing ya know, I look like this!  By the way, I prefer to call it a 'Joehawk' and I actually kind like it."

[Obama] "Well, enough with the downtwinkles you guys.  We gotta liven this up!"

The pResident steps out and steps back in just moments later, wearing tight black bellbottom polyester pants and a sequined shirt.  A Mariachi band follows him.

[Obama, singing (poorly)] "Far!  They've been travelin' far!  Left their homes.  But not without a Star!" [aside] "Which would be ME!" [points to Val Jarrett] [Mariachi band kicks in, playing exuberantly]

[Jarrett, singing proudly] "Free!  They want stuff for free!  They huddle close, to fit more on the train!"

[Obama] "Yeah!"  [points to SecDHS Jeh Johnson]


[Johnson, singing] "On the trucks and on the trains, they're comin' to America.  Never looking back again, they bringin' in chlamydia!"




[Obama nods and dances.  Jarrett waves a lighter.  Obama points to National Security Adviser Donilon]


[Donilon, singing triumphantly] "Home! Just a Rio Grande away!  Crossing over night and day! We'll put 'em up in a dorm, put 'em up in a dorm.

[Obama, points to Eric Holder]


[Holder singing, strutting about like Travolta in Grease] "Home!  To a new and a shiny place!  Give 'em beds and a parking space!  Freedom's light burning out... Freedom's light burning out"


[Obama] "Everywhere around the world, they're coming to America.  I know I throw just like a girl, still they're comin' to America!"  [Points to SecState Kerry]


[Kerry, singing badly with that snooty nasal/breathy thing he does] "Got a DREAM Act to draw 'em here, they're comin' to America.  Hidden drugs in their underwear! They're comin' to America!"

[Jarrett] "They bringin' in malaria!"

[Donilon] "Bringin' in chlamydia!

[Biden, hesitating] "umm" [sound effect of record scratch, music stops] "Uhh.. Hmmm.  Oh! - bringin' in tuberculosis-uhh" [music resumes]

[All] "They votin' Democratica!  Hooray!  Hooray!  Hooray!  Hooray!  Hooray!"

[Obama] "This country, I piss on thee!" [others quietly echo "hooray!"]
[Obama] "Way too much liberty!"  ("hooray!")
[Obama] "Oe'r thee I reign!" ("hooray!")
[Obama] "Oe'r thee I reign!" ("hooray!")


[Obama] "Well, that was fun.  Who's up for some Chipotle?"

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Here's the real version, which I like quite a lot

World Cup Musings

I have discovered the most satisfying thing in the world:  rolling up an old copy of Car Craft and one-timing a housefly right out of mid-air. 

If you don't know what I mean by "one-timing" then this post is not for you.  Shut off your pink iPad and go get a manicure or something.

But it got me thinking a little bit about hockey.  I am a casual fan.  I don't really have a favorite team.  I used to be into the Penguins back when they had guys like Jagr and Super Mario.  But anyway...  Right now soccer is the Big Deal.  Soccer has a very slight and superficial resemblance to hockey.  Both have goals with nets.  Both have a designated goalie.  Both have somewhat confusing offsides rules.

But there, the resemblance ends.  With extreme prejudice.

For starters, let's consider what parts of the world enjoy soccer.  The poor, third-world backwaters - that's who.  Because any barefoot little brat in one of those countries can go and get, oh, I dunno, an antelope bladder or something, stuff it full of, like, feathers and dirt, and run around thinking he's Pele.  Those screwed-up countries can't afford skates and sticks and helmets.  Heck, they can't even afford ice.  So they run around punting their bladders going by only their given names.  Like "Reynaldo" or "Ru-Paul."  They can't even afford surnames fer cryin' out loud.  What a joke.  The other people who like soccer are the euroweenies.  They have big brother USA defending their countries for them.  Which means they haven't been in a real fight for decades.  Makes them weak.  Makes them gravitate towards games for the weak.  Like soccer.

Who enjoys hockey?  Well, we do, for one.  We like things that are fast and violent.  Russians like it, too - these guys eat beets and pee vodka and like hitting people, so hockey comes natural to them.  The Scandis like it, too.  'Cuz they're descended from freakin' vikings.  Of course they'd be good at hockey.  Canada likes hockey, too.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe because their soccer fields are frozen over for 10 months a year.  But you get the point:  Tough people who don't care if they're bleeding like hockey.

Ever watch one of those soccer nancies flail around in pain from somebody actually touching them?  You don't see that in a real sport like hockey.  In hockey they drive each other's faces into the plexiglass.  If somebody rolls around on the ice in pain, some goon will say "Quit bein' such a Crosby" and skate right over the fallen player's carotid.  Which will earn the goon a 2-minute minor and a lot of applause.  And hockey players don't bite each other like that little soccer punk from Urugay or Paragay or wherever "he" is from.  Don't get me wrong - hockey players would bite each other, but their teeth are all blown out before they even make it through the minor leagues.  They best a pro hockey player would be able to manage is an affectionate gumming.  And you pretty much don't go around giving an affectionate gumming to guys who have razors on their feet.  (though the freaks in the Folsom Street Parade might beg to differ on that one)

Soccer has the "goalie box" which is a pretty chalk line on the turf.  Within those friendly confines, the goalie may use his hands.  Note that the soccer goalie has no special equipment except a pastel shirt and maybe some gloves.  Hockey goalies reside in the "crease" and wear 40 pounds of armor.  Soccer goalies can't (or won't) do anything to players who invade their precious box.  But a hockey goalie has the right, nay, duty, to go all Jason Voorhees on opponents who enter the crease.  Ask Ron Hextall how many people he has killed in the crease.  He won't answer you because he can't remember.  But he made Jason Voorhees look like a Cub Scout.

Alright, I'm just about talked-out on this subject.  We Team USA (I have to avoid the vicarious "we" 'cuz we're talking about soccer) played well enough to advance to the round of 16.  With a 1-1-1 record.  Yay.  The self-important Prius drivers who pretend to like soccer every four years are celebrating a .500 record and spewing their "in a few years soccer will overtake (real, as in "American") football in popularity" nonsense which I've been hearing since I was a little brat myself. 

That.  Will.  Never.  Happen. !!1!

Sochi on the Willamette

Some years here: all winter without any snow
Most years here:  An inch or two overnight that is melted away by the next afternoon
Once every decade or so:  8 or 9" that lingers for a week or so
RIGHT NOW:  14" or so of snow with about 3/4" of  ice on top of it.

Tree decided it didn't want to keep playing the "Support the Ice" game and instead chose to take a nap on stepkid's Civic.  Not sure how bad the damage is.  Yet.

Here's your moron author thinking he could dig out enough to get the bald-tired sedan up the driveway.  Didn't happen.  A more youthful and vigorous man with a better shovel might have succeeded but I am neither youthful nor vigorous.  Plus my shovel sucks.  So I mostly blame the shovel.
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Knowing that the ice storm was aheadin' our direction, I took off yesterday to go into town and stock up on candles, batteries, etc.  I scratched and clawed about halfway up our hill but just couldn't get the traction to crest it. So I decided to go down the hill and take the "long way" into town.  That was a good plan.  Too bad I didn't stick to the plan.  About a 1/4 mile from my place, your moron author instead gets the great idea: "hey, just turn around in the neighbor's driveway, and head back at the hill with a little bit of momentum!

Umm.

We had punched out early at work, and I had very little trouble getting around [rainmanvoice]of course I'm an excellent driver[/rainmanvoice] in it only an hour or so earlier but this time I was bested.  Stuck in my neighbor's driveway.  I huffed and puffed my cold little feet up to their front door and told 'em what happened.  They didn't seem to concerned.  Certainly not concerned enough to offer to help or anything.  "Oh, no worries.  We won't be heading down that driveway anytime soon.  Good luck!"  So a couple passers-by with 4x4 trucks got me back on the main road.  I built as much speed as I thought I could handle, and made it up the hill.  Yay!

Further up, I had to face the decision of whether to take the gently sloping side road or try to make it up the steeper section to get to the state highway.  If the light was green, I'd be golden.  Red light, come to a stop?  Dunno if I could get moving again.  So I took the gently sloping side road.  There was a pickup spun out, blocking most of the road, and a pedestrian in the way.  Traction was scarce...  Barely making it up this gentle rise.  Must not lose momentum... I WILL STOP FOR NOTHING!!1!  Lay on the horn to spook the pedestrian off into the ditch, and keep on driving!  Woohoo! I get to to flat spot where this side road intersects the main highway.  And what to my wondering eyes should appear?  A chained-up ambulance getting crossed up and stuck in the intersection.  I needed to go left, but the ambalamps was in the way.  Screw it!  If we lose power, we have blankets.  We can sit in the dark and make pillow forts and curl up in our blankets 'til we die.  So I turned right, and went home empty-handed.

Which brings us to the picture above.  I was getting a little cabin fever today with the three grandbrats running amok.  (Yes, there are three here now) so I figured I'd try to liberate the car from the frozen funk.  If I could just.  get.  up.  the.  driveway, the roads were starting to clear.  I would have a few moments of white-knuckle-snowy-road-no-chains-bald-tires-I-don't need not steenkin' chains peace and quiet.  But no.  Could not get the car unstuck.  So I walked to the little country store about a mile away and helped push a stuck car back onto the road.  Good deed status: DONE. 

Remember that part up above where I mentioned the 3/4" ice layer on top of the snow?  I break right through it as I walk, but the dogs only break through on about half their steps, and go skating with their other feet.  It is hilarious.  Yes, I am snowed in and reduced to getting my tee-hees from watching my dog try to get into proper pooping posture only to have his feet slide out from under him.  Such is my life.

Barry hellish healthcare debacle

Late at night, a sleepless pResident paces around the bedroom.  Nearby, MichelleO snores noisily through her CPAP mask.  The pResident takes a deep breath to build his resolve, and heads toward the bathroom.  He takes a quick look at his haggard face and shuts off the lights.

[Obama] "One bloody Marx.  Two bloody Marx.  Three bloody Marx." [turns lights back on]

The half-smiling, half-glowering face of Satan appears in the mirror opposite the pResident!

[Obama] "Lu, we gotta talk.  Step through the mirror please."

The Devil steps through the mirror and appears in corporeal form.

[Devil] "Yeah, 'Bams, whassup?"

[Obama] "My second-term agenda is more gummed up than the plumbing under a Guatemalan hair salon.  And it's all your fault!"

[Devil] "My fault?  Moi?  I'm flattered that you think so, but I'm sure you're mistaken."

[Obama] "Our deal was that you'd get me comprehensive healthcare reform in exchange for my soul.  Now everything sucks so bad I'm probably gonna lose the Senate majority and there'll be Tea Party freaks running all over the House.  This is NOT what I signed up for!"

[Devil] "Did you even read our contract?"

[Obama] "It's like, almost a thousand pages long!  Of course I didn't read it!"

[Devil] "Savor the irony!  What our deal actually said, was, that you could write any healthcare bill you wanted, and I'd get it passed.  In exchange, I'd get your soul to put in a jar on my mantle.  You could have gotten the public option!  You could have gotten single payer!  But no, you didn't read our agreement!  You just merrily handed the whole thing off to Baucus and Pelosi and Sebelius.  That you would do something so stump-humpingly stupid is very much NOT MY FAULT!"

[Obama] "Why do you hate me so much?"

[Devil] "Nothing personal.  I hate everybody.  Seriously.  Well, except that fat little bastard from North Korea.  Kim Dong Poon or whatever the heck his name is.  He's pretty cool.  The rest of ya, well, I want to ruin everything and then kill you.  Tell you the truth, though..."

[Obama] "Wait.  I though you were unable to tell the truth.  Father of Lies and all that stuff."

[Devil] "I can tell the truth, when it is to my advantage.  I don't like it much, though.  Makes me nauseous.  After speaking truth, I have to visit an inner-city Planned Parenthood and watch some crackhead pseudodoctor cut up babies for a while.  You know, to settle my stomach.  But what I was about to say is that I'm not so pleased with our little deal, either.  I was expecting to claim the soul of a Great American President.  One beloved and accomplished and adored.  Now, I'll be lucky if I end up with the soul of an inept Chicago thug.  Lemme tell ya, I already have a warehouse full of those.  Not really jazzed about getting another."

[Obama] "Hey!  I am beloved and accomplished and adored!"

[Devil] "Really?  We need an impartial judge.  I'm gonna go wake MichelleO and see what she thinks."

[Obama] "No!  Do not interrupt Sleeping Booty's slumber!  That is EXTREMELY unwise!  There'll be, er, hell to pay!"

[Devil] "Ha!  What could be so bad?  You're just afraid she'll side with me!"

The Devil pokes MichelleO in the forehead with the point of his tail.  She bats it away and rolls over, without waking.  The Devil repeats this maneuver,  but more forcibly.  MichelleO sits up abruptly in bed and throws her CPAP mask aside like a Philadelphia Flyer might cast aside his helmet before a center-ice brawl.  She graps Old Scratch by the lapel and pulls herself within about an inch of his face.

[MichelleO] "You will pay for you insolence!  First, I will devour you whole, like that hamhock the other day...  Then I will slowly digest you...  And when I am done adding your evil to my own, and all that is left of you is that which feels pain...  I will slowly, over the course of a thousand years, crap you out over a giant heap of burning American flags... Where you will writhe in powerless agony!"

[Obama] "It's like falling into the Sarlacc, but worse."

[Devil, visibly panicked] "I've seen her naked.  It'd be WAY worse!" [closes eyes] Like a good neighbor, Statist Farm is there!"

Poof!  The devil disappears.

[MichelleO, angrily] "Grah!" [makes Sith gesture towards closet.  A broom flies out, straight into her hand.  She mounts it, and heads off in pursuit of Satan.


A few minutes later, the Devil returns.

[Devil] "I think I lost her."

[Obama] "As I was saying, I *am* adored and accomplished and all that.  Even the wingnuts can't help but honoring me.  They call me TelePrompTer Jesus.  And you know how  much those clingers like that Jesus dude."

[Devil]  "They're actually calling you 'TelePrompDerp Cheezits.'  I thought for sure those elephantine ears of yours would catch that subtlety.  Disappointing, really."

[Obama, getting his hissy on] "You're a liar!  And so is your boyfriend!"

[Devil] "Hey, now, let's leave Eric Holder out of this!"

[Obama] "Catch faceAIDS and die in a fire!"

[Devil] "Oh yeah?  Get dickscabies and fall off a cliff!  Like your approval rating!  Ha!"

[Obama, regaining composure] "Alright, alright.  We're both horribly dissatisfied.  Let's work together and make this a win/win, OK?"

[Devil] "Oh, I'm way ahead of you.  Have you been wondering why Boehner is on such an amnesty-fap lately?  It was my idea.  I just whispered it in his ear.  America has been a powerful force for good in the world.  You've tried to bring America down.  I admire that.  But you're just not up to the job.  We need a couple million more Dem voters on the welfare roll, so we gotta pass us some amnesty.  That'll bring down the Republicans, *AND* ruin America!"

[Obama, megawatt grin] "Now we're talkin'!"