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:

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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)

“What I sometimes mistake for ecstasy is simply the absence of grief.” ~ Sarah Kane, from Crave

Robert Demachy Mignon 1900 photogravure
“Mignon” (1900, photogravure)
by Robert Demachy

 

Friday leftovers, sort of . . .

Friday afternoon. Cloudy and a bit warmer, 53 degrees.

Today is my father’s birthday.

I feel a bit better today, but Bailey seems to be ill with the throwups. Anyway . . .

Robert Demachy Figure Tragique 1899 photogravure
“Figure Tragique” (1899, photogravure)
by Robert Demachy

In this particular dream, everyone makes an appearance. I have gone to stay with a friend, someone who is much richer than I am, and I believe I have overstayed my welcome. The mother, so kind at first, is now snippy and bitter. And I have run out of formula for the baby with me. Finally, my parents come to retrieve me. The mother acts snooty, saying something to my father like, “Oh, senator. I’m so glad to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.” And my father just looks confused, and I say, “That’s not a senator. That’s my father. My. Father.” And the mother just gives me one of those creepy smiles to show that she knows perfectly well that my father isn’t a senator, but then my dad surprises me and begins to play along. Skip to another room. My dad sits down next to me and tell me that I am never, ever to associate with these people again. I pretend to comply, but he knows that I am hedging, so he repeats himself. I am so startled that I tell him, yes, of course. The daughter with whom I am supposedly friends comes into the room and asks why her bedroom door is gone, and the mother tells her that she doesn’t need a door. The father in the family sits next to me and whispers that he is so sorry for how things have turned out, and I wonder why he is even bothering. At this point, other people appear, including the Hunt brothers from my youth (Chris and Dave), and they are wearing tacky tuxedos, and I could just kiss them for their brazenness. I can tell that their appearance is really offensive to the mother, so I stop everything to introduce them to her. The mother begins to clean around us, but I refuse to let her get the best of me. I begin to wrap some books to leave for my friend, and the mother comes over and tells me that I have made a mess, when I clearly haven’t. I just smile at her, one of her own smiles back at her, and I keep wrapping. Then I tell my parents that we have to stop and get formula for the baby, who at different points in the dream switches back and forth from a dog to a baby.

I wake up to Bailey throwing up on the bed.

No plethora of leftovers this week. Only a Jon Stewart clip because it is so awesome:

and as an added bonus, this one featuring a new addition to the show, priceless:

More later. Peace.

Music by Tame Impala, “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” (love this video)

                   

For the young who want to

Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.
Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.
Genius is what they know you
had after the third volume
of remarkable poems. Earlier
they accuse you of withdrawing,
ask why you don’t have a baby,
call you a bum.
The reason people want M.F.A.’s,
take workshops with fancy names
when all you can really
learn is a few techniques,
typing instructions and some-
body else’s mannerisms
is that every artist lacks
a license to hang on the wall
like your optician, your vet
proving you may be a clumsy sadist
whose fillings fall into the stew
but you’re certified a dentist.
The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.

~  Marge Piercy

 

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

Friday evening. Partly cloudy and cold, 49 degrees.

Corey just left to take Olivia home. Yesterday when I told her that she was going home, she said, “No.” She wanted to stay with us; truthfully, she probably wanted to stay with Corey, who seems to be her most favorite person, and don’t think that he doesn’t love that! Anyway, now I am better able to see both sides—parent (dismay) and grandparent (humorous pride)—of the situation as Alexis always wanted to stay with her Oma and Papa. And the sun rose and fell on Alexis as far as my dad was concerned . . .

History truly repeats itself.

This week’s headline:

“That’s a gang sign? All this time I’ve been the lead-in for a notorious gang member  [Stephen Colbert]. . . which means, unfortunately, it’s time once again to update our ‘List of innocent things that black people do that look suspicious . . . don’t wear a hoodie, don’t carry skittles . . . and now, don’t point.'” ~ Jon Stewart, “The Daily Show” (November 12, 2014)

I still love Tobey Ziegler (“The West Wing”):

I hate everyone

Me, every single time I get behind the wheel of my car . . .

Oh, how I can relate to this . . .

This is what happens in my head every time I’m near one:

Photo: The pain! The agony!

Literally . . .

Moral of the story? Hire a koala as your hitman. Wait. No. What?

Hmm . . .

Um, perhaps texting is not for you?

23 Reasons Why Parents Shouldn't Be Allowed To Text 12 - https://www.facebook.com/diplyofficial

Me, responding to my kids’ texts when I just can’t take it any more:

Photo: It actually does take more effort to spell incorrectly these days via text.

I love Key & Peele:

We, as humans, have the imaginations and capabilities to do ingenious things like this, so why don’t we do this more?

Commas—they really do make a difference:

Photo: What a difference a comma makes!

Again, Toby remains my hero:

Really?

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

Late addition:


 

Friday afternoon. Partly cloudy and temperate, 62 degrees.

My computer is dying and that is the least of my woes . . .

Having a really bad November 7. No words . . .

This week’s best news exchange:

Jon Stewart: But first, team coverage at various campaign headquarters.

Jason Jones: Incredible night for Money in politics . . . all $6.5 billion that participated in this year’s election are here tonight . . .

Jon Stewart: Sam Bee is at money’s opponent in this year’s election: Ideas.

Sam Bee: As you can imagine, it’s been a tough night for Ideas. Just minutes ago, Ideas conceded to Money. Obviously, it was a collect call. Ideas is in rough shape.

Jon Stewart: I think a lot of people didn’t even realize Ideas were on the ballot this year

Sam Bee: Ideas didn’t put up much of a fight, appeared in very few ads, certainly didn’t show up for any debates

Ear worm:

So, yeah. Science. Love that stuff . . .

I am such a sucker for things like this. I cannot believe that LeBron James made me tear up. No, I’m absolutely not sniffling and stuff . . . and besides, it’s Ohio, and Corey and stuff . . .

Jon Oliver’s “Last Week Tonight” takes on couples shopping at Home Depot . . . Can sooo appreciate this . . .

I really have no words for this . . .

Photo: It's nacho problem.

And not sure I have any words for this, either:

[Mom] comes into the classroom with a pan full of treats and brings them to me and says with a smile “I decided you can use these to teach the kids about the woman’s vagina today”. Baffled and completely caught off guard I slowly peel the aluminum foil off the pan to behold a plethora of sugar cookie and frosting vaginas. Not just any old vagina, but ALL KINDS OF VAGINAS… I give the parent the most professional look I can muster and quietly reply “I’m sorry Autumn, but I can’t give these to my students. This just isn’t appropriate.”

I don’t have an image for these educational cupcakes, but if you want to see the rest of the story, including the mother’s rant, click here.

I mean really, second graders? I. Just. Can’t. Even.

In our continuing coverage of social media fails:

Jumping on the Ebola bandwagon:

Photo: You knew it was coming.

Really? You had to add that disclaimer? Sheesh.

“Merica…………..

More ‘Merica……….

Just remember:

This is too cool not to post: Wes Anderson Centered

Just two of many reasons to go to Norway:

And because I am forevermore a Star Wars nerd . . .

“You know what? It’s a different kind of war, and if you’re sitting around getting massages all day, then you’re not going to last very long.” ~ Rep. Louie Gomhert (R), on gays in the military

Thursday evening. Clear and cool, 55 degrees.

I took Olivia home late this afternoon and then went to the movies with Eamonn. He has really wanted to see Fury, so I said that I would go with him. Got home just a bit ago, and boy, am I tired.

Catching up on the backlog on the DVR. Jon Stewart has been in Austin, Texas all week, and it’s been exactly as you would have imagined it. Here, have some “Daily Show” sarcasm:

From “The Daily Show” (October 29, 2014):

Al Madrigal covers the immigrant problem in Texas

                   

See the full clip below:

Friday Leftovers—Late Addition

2:30 pm EST, it’s da-lovely outside . . .

. . . and inside someone is so confused

I swear that right up until “The Daily Show” came on last night, I thought it was Friday, but then I had to stop and mull it over because “The Daily Show” doesn’t air on Friday, and there it was on my television, so someone had messed up . . .

Okay, since I was obviously the one who had messed up on the whole Friday leftovers post by posting it on Thursday instead of Friday and then moving it to Friday with a caveat (still with me?), I figured it wouldn’t matter if I just went one step further and added something that I would have put in if I had posted it on Friday instead of Thursday (huh? huh?) . . . Anyway, I give you Latte-gate: