If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

marshawn-lynch-nfl-super-bowl-xlix-seattle-seahawks-press-conference1-850x560

Marshawn Lynch at NFL Super Bowl Press Conference


Friday afternoon. Drizzle and cold, 47 degrees.

Corey arrived home safely yesterday. No word on when he will be called back. I never thought I would wish for oil prices to skyrocket . . .

Bad night last night—too wired to sleep, and the dogs were feeding off that anxiety by announcing a need to go out pretty much once an hour. In between, I was seized with a vicious migraine, and then the ensuing body-itching from the pain medication. Today I plan to do a whole lot of nothing after spending two days cleaning a house that wasn’t really dirty, which didn’t stop me from taking the bottom of the vacuum apart to pull strings from the roller (love that my Dyson doesn’t have any belts). That’s just how I get once I go into overdrive.

Ah, the sweet, sweet joys of my life . . .

More later. Peace.

This week’s headline:

“I’m just here so I won’t get fined.” ~ Marshawn Lynch’s Super Bowl Press Conference

As Jon Stewart pointed out, Lynch was threatened with a ridiculous $500k fine if he didn’t show and a possible other fine for wearing the wrong hat, yet the NFL does little to nothing when it comes to the serious infractions, you know, like domestic violence:

“How is it that this guy is facing international drug cartel penalty money, but the owners and commissioner of the league have no obligation to address stadium financing shenanigans or concussions or domestic violence policies?” ~ Jon Stewart, “The Daily Show” (29 January 2015)

Shakespeare’s tragedies by body count:

Diagramming my life:

Dr. James Barry was a woman:

James Miranda Stuart Barry was a military surgeon in the British Army. After graduation from the University of Edinburgh Medical School, Barry served in India and Cape Town, South Africa. By the end of his career, he had risen to the rank of Inspector General in charge of military hospitals. Although Barry lived his adult life as a man, he was born a female and was named Margaret Ann Bulkley. In his travels he not only improved conditions for wounded soldiers, but also the conditions of the native inhabitants. Among his accomplishments was the first caesarean section in Africa by a British surgeon in which both the mother and child survived the operation.

Well, how could I not include this?

See this? This is not how my dogs would help:

They would either sit on the extended part of the tape measure or take the whole thing and run away . . .

Too perfect . . .

And oh how I wish so many times that I would have been able to say and do something like this:

See—I freaking told you . . .

Things that can happen at Wal-Mart:

“You don’t think that’s a lot of red for a child’s bedroom? We don’t want it to look like the Amityville Horror kill room or anything.” ~ The Ugly Volvo

I have to share this post from The Ugly Volvo with you. I read Goodnight Moon to Olivia every time she spends the night here. And I also read this story to all of my children when they were small. But this is one of the funniest deconstructions of this story I have ever come across. It’s long, so I’m only including the first few, but trust me, you need to click here and read it in its entirety.


 

All of my Issues With the “Goodnight Moon” Bedroom

I’ve read Goodnight Moon almost every night for the past two years. It’s a wonderful book which my son enjoys. Here are some of my issues with the bedroom depicted in it.
aa goodnight moon 11. The Size of the Bedroom
Nice bedroom and/or place to possibly hold the 2024 Olympics

This bedroom is enormous. There is no one, I think, who has not noticed this. As someone who has lived in apartments only slightly larger than “a little toy house,” it’s mildly vexing that this bedroom is the size of a banquet hall in Downton Abbey.

This little toy house would rent out for $2500 a month in Manhattan (not including utilities)

2. The Little Toy house.
This little toy house would rent out for $2500 a month in Manhattan (not including utilities)This little toy house would rent out for $2500 a month in Manhattan (not including utilities)

This is not that little of a toy house. Not only could the rabbit easily fit inside the “little toy house,” the little toy house also has working electricity. Why are these rabbits so civilized? Is this some f**ked up Watership Down sequel???

The color scheme we're going for is "exploded paint factory."

3. This Just-Discovered Transcript of a Conversation Had by the Interior Decorators
The color scheme we’re going for is “exploded paint factory.”The color scheme we’re going for is “exploded paint factory.”

“So what color have we decided on for the upstairs child’s bedroom?”

“Which child’s bedroom?”

“The enormous one. The one with the expansive tomato-colored floor.”

“I was thinking for that room maybe a dark green?”

“Really? Dark green? You don’t think maybe dark green walls with a tomato-colored floor is a bit much?”

“No, it’ll look amazing. We can break up the monotony of the color with some dark green and yellow striped curtains.”

“That’s an amazing idea. On non-matching red and yellow spearhead curtain rods? Do you think a tiger skin rug would be overkill?”

“For a young child’s room? No. Not at all. ”

 

Friday leftovers

This week’s headline:

“To any local Florida officials who refuse to perform these ceremonies: You live in a giant cockroach choking-hazard infested, Hooters-dining, reptile-abusing Everglades-draining, election-ruining, stripper-motorboating, ball-sweat scented, genitalia-shaped, 24-hour-mugshot factory.” ~ Jon Stewart on some Florida counties’ decision not to perform courthouse marriages, “The Daily Show” (15 January 2015)

Um . . . come again?

I don’t think this was what Big Brother had in mind:

Needs no explanation . . .

How cool is this?

Marie Curie: One of the baddest of the original BAMF:

Wasabi is a miracle food as far as I’m concerned. Nothing opens my sinuses faster, and after a good crying jag, wasabi allows me to breathe . . . just saying . . .

                    

Music by The Neighborhood, “Let it Go” (no, not that one)

“Drowning. Strychnine. Self-cannibalism. Scabs. Scarab beetles. Soul-abortion. God-divorce. Apostasy. Voice box autopsy. Hydrogen peroxide. Why can’t I scour below the pores? Possible cracked scapula. I didn’t dare go to the doctor. The X-ray would show no bones like the mirror confesses no reflection. Broken camera. Slow shutter speed; same photo over and over. Alchemy. Blood. Heart pumping mud. Black magic. Skin turned to stone. Slaughterhouse. Should have known better. Should have known better. Inadequate gravity. The earth cast off its axis; I’m fighting for an atmosphere somewhere in Andromeda.” ~ Deanna Larsen, from “What Rape Is Like”

I ran across this incredible article on my tumblr dash a few days ago, and I really want to share it. It’s too long to post in its entirey, so I’m giving a link. It’s a good read, but I have to include a trigger warning.

Prey

By Kathleen Hale

In the aftermath of rape, and throughout the two-year-long rape trial, I was obsessed with dangerous animals. This is how I went from prey to predator.

My obsession with animals preexisted any trauma in my life. As a five-year-old I wrote a fully illustrated book titled Tigger Maskkir about circus animals that revolt and eat the clowns. My teachers thought I was becoming deranged but my mom explained that it had been going on since before the divorce. I interviewed neighbours about their dogs. I put my teddy bears and stuffed lions to bed every night under blankets of washcloths—I couldn’t fall asleep until they were safely arranged like Tetris pieces on the floor, covering every inch of carpet. I once stood for an hour with my face against the glass at Sea World, trying to make meaningful eye contact with a manatee.

My ritualistic obsessions are no longer limited to animals (currently, they include Diane Sawyer, The Slender Man Stabbings, and eating bacon every day for lunch). I never look for things to grab me. They just do, and once they do, the obsessions usually continue until I’m so sick of them—or of myself for enacting them—that suddenly, and with a sense of great relief, I’m repulsed.

On other occasions, it’s as if I can’t stop. Like on my 18th birthday.

The night was raucously fun—I must have stolen the karaoke microphone 11 times—but as dawn broke, my friend asked if I could please stop singing Limp Bizkit. She needed to sleep.

“Believe me, I’d love to, but I physically cannot.” I was tired, too. I’d sung “Faith” twice, but five was my number and I was halfway there.

And sometimes I worry that telling the story I’m about to tell you is a compulsion, like counting. Giving testimony under oath was supposed to bring closure. But here I am, so sick of my own voice. The urge persists.

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Noooooo………


Argh. I forgot to hit schedule. Dang it all…………..

This week’s headline:

Done . . .

Meanwhile, in Canada:

Um . . . excuse me? You fed the pears?

This:

What a charming place to wile away the afternoon . . .

Another doggie for you:

I have come to love Key & Peele. In this clip, girlfriend Meegan is the worst moviegoer ever:

A few facts for you from :

  • Dr. Dre has made more money from selling his popular Beats headphones than he did making music.
  • The North Korean World Cup soccer fans are actually hand picked by the NK government and are also made up of Chinese volunteers since North Koreans are not allowed to travel.
  • US President Harry Truman fell in love with his future wife Bess in Sunday School when he was 6 years old and she was 5. He never loved another woman.
  • A gamer once complained on the Runic Games forums that a specific camera effect made a game unplayable for her due to a rare eye condition. Mere hours later, and early on a Sunday morning, the developers released a patch that added a user toggle for the effect.
  • The “Gangnam Style” video has surpassed 2 billion views on Youtube and is the first Youtube video in history to do so.
  • Netflix employs a team of “taggers” who are paid to just watch movies/shows on Netflix and tag the content.
  • The astronomer Tycho Brahe not only owned a tame moose. That moose died by falling down a flight of stairs while drunk.
  • In 1971, a thief broke into a house and was shot in the legs by a trap set up by the homeowner. The thief then sued for damages—and won.
  • The Egyptian–Hittite peace treaty concluded around 1259 BCE is the oldest written peace treaty that still survives today.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

If it’s Friday, it must mean leftovers . . .

Friday night. Clear and cool, 41 degrees.

Woke up with a migraine that left me puny for almost the whole day . . . Le sigh . . .

This week’s headline:

“You’re maudlin and full of self-pity. You’re magnificent!” ~ Joseph L. Mankiewicz, from All About Eve

The philosophy of Calvin and Hobbes:

Calvin: They say the world is a stage. But obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines.

Hobbes: Maybe that’s why it’s hard to tell if we’re living in a tragedy or a farce.

Calvin: We need more special effects and dance numbers.

Finally, I have found the perfect graphic to illustrate my complicated relationship with math beyond algebra:

So Ellen does Matthew McConaughey’s Lincoln Commercial, and it’s soooo much better:

And speaking of women making it better, you must read the Amazon comments for this product:

And continuing with the education themes . . . this teacher does it for the win:

I can’t believe I ate the whole thing . . .

A possum broke into an Australian bakery and ate so many pastries it couldn’t move. This is how they found him.

Things that make you go hmm . . . Yes, these were real ads (click here to see more):

Speaking of the past . . . things Olivia’s generation will never know:

incredibly long download times for one song . . .

Saving homework on one of these and then losing it . . .

Twitter turns Time magazine’s proposed ban on word feminist into Princess Bride tirade:

Dogs can be such dweebs:

Music by who else? Pink Floyd, “Another Brick in the Wall”