Yet More Doodles You've probably heard of "Labradoodles."


And you might have heard of "Goldendoodles."



But get ready ladies (and gentlemen), because now there's...




Chippendoodles!




Joke courtesy of my husband, who for some ungodly reason wants credit for this concept. Well, nevermind about that. He withdrew support after seeing this post.  ¶ 2:49 PM 5 Comments

  Do the crime, do...nothing? I learned today that for Nicole Richie, hours of drugging and drinking before driving, and thereby risking killing yourself and several other people, gets you a prison sentence that can be measured in minutes.  ¶ 4:30 PM 2 Comments

  Basic Instructions
Since Tiny Dog has decreed that we will now be blogging about comix, I decided to do my share.





Basic Instructions has been making its way around the office where I work. The protagonist looks, speaks, and behaves exactly like our manager Chase; Chase denies drawing the strip, but no one has ever seen Chase and "Scott Meyer" at the same place at the same time. In fact, we have no proof that "Scott Meyer" exists anywhere except in the fevered sarcastic imagination of the walking HR violation that is Chase.

Labels: comix, work

  ¶ 3:28 PM 0 Comments

  Speaking of annoying cartoons...
Luann...need I say more?

Yes, I do, because on the Luann website there is an ad for a new release: "Luann: The Musical." You can even download some tunes.

This makes me want to get drunk and jump in a cage of bears.  ¶ 10:31 AM 1 Comments

  "Only an idiot would jump into the bear cage"

 

Indeed.

I guess this is why they had Hempfest at the Sculpture Garden.

  ¶ 1:19 PM 1 Comments

  Ned Tanner
I've been an off and on reader of FOOB my whole life (FOOB, if you did not already know, is of course, For Better or For Worse, the Canadian soap opera comic strip that has been running approximately since the dawn of man).

FOOB is a controversial comic, routinely dissected and mocked on the interwebs for its use of corny puns and its progression through actual time, a rare convention in the comics world, in which characters usually remain a certain, indistinct age for the tireless lifespan of a strip.

I mention FOOB today because I was visiting the strangely elaborate FOOB web site today, catching up on the latest permutations of the Granthony storyline, in which Elizabeth returns, chastened, to her hometown to hook up with her spineless, formerly-mustachio'd high school sweetheart, when I noticed this weird product for sale.

Ned is apparently an "anatomically correct" man-doll, once featured in a handful of FOOB strips. Ned allegedly attaches himself to smooth surfaces with a pair of suction cups, and once played a fictional role in the rescue of a soused elderly cat lady.

In an act of life imitating art, Ned Tanner appears to be for sale, so that you can stick his anatomically correct self onto the closest smooth surface, and possibly employ him in the rescue of downed elders.

Make the purchase today.

Labels: FOOB, For Better or For Worse, Ned Tanner

  ¶ 8:27 AM 3 Comments

  Whatever happened to… Ice Milk: Ice milk was a light, flavorless ice cream replacement, that got forgotten after the frozen yogurt craze took over the world. It couldn’t possibly compete with all those toppings. I only remember eating it a few times when at my grandmother’s house. It was around the time when society was in a furor over the revelations about high cholesterol, and senior citizens were anxiously flocking in droves to purchase early-version imitation dairy products, which were later found to have similar properties as plastic.

Stir 'n Frost Cakes: In between baking-from-scratch and the Easy Bake Oven, Stir n Frost Cakes were an 80’s staple for binging Gen-X tweeners (before any of that vocabulary for an era of pre-teens was invented).

Watermelon with Seeds: Does anyone buy these anymore? Are they still available? Is this genetic engineering?

That's all I can think of right now, but your contributions to this list are encouraged.  ¶ 8:59 AM 2 Comments

  Lame! Would you like some sexist cliche with your coffee, sir? Warning, I wouldn't click it at work-- the front page is innocuous, but subsequent pages would leave corporate e-mail spies at your job with the impression that you use company time to look at stripper Halloween costumes.

One thing about this business model that confuses me... aren't lattes kind of a soccer mom thing? I mean, do the kinds of guys who frequent strip clubs really grab vanilla lattes at drive thru coffee stands?  ¶ 7:59 AM 1 Comments

  Clothes off Once upon a time, far far away, there lived a girl. The year that this girl graduated (sorta kinda) from high school, there was a song that all the people were singing, and it had the following lyrics:

"We don't have to take our clothes off
To have a good time
Oh no
We could dance & party all night
And drink some cherry wine
Uh huh"

The girl (barely) survived the thousands of times she had to listen to this song before the song fell out of favor. Decades later, she heard the song again, and it made her laughed until her sides ached. She sang it to all of her friends so they could mock it too.

But secretly, quietly, she couldn't help but wonder that she and the world had once been that uncomplicated, and if there was any way to get that simplicity back.

But not so dumb this time.  ¶ 4:23 PM 0 Comments

  Write your own caption...   ¶ 11:03 PM 3 Comments

  Miyokochan Yesterday after church, my friend E and I drove down to the childhood home of our friend S.

S moved back to Seattle 10 or so years ago to take care of her father B, who was dying, and now she is taking care of her mother Miyoko. S basically leads a team of hired caregivers through the tasks of Miyoko's daily routine: Checking blood pressure, pulse, temperature, blood oxygenation; administering medications for heart failure, lung failure, bone pain, mental anxiety; feeding, diapering, entertaining...Miyoko is not sick enough or dying fast enough for the hospital, so all of this happens at home.

S spends her rest and relaxation time at her job.

A member of the caregiver team had to be fired, and so E and I went to assist S for the afternoon.
*****

Miyoko was a Japanese war bride married to a black serviceman. When she and her husband moved to their new Skyway home, no one wanted them there, although the neighbors were divided as to whether the problem was his race, her ethnicity, or the mixing of the two. Still, folks came up to the front door, rang the bell, and told them 'We don't want your kind here.'

Now decades have gone by. The bigoted neighbors have left, or maybe just their bigoted attitudes went away. B is also gone, and Miyoko is left a widow. None of us is sure what to pray for--that she goes quickly, that she stays here for a while, that she doesn't suffer for more than 4 seconds when she goes, that she has enough time to set things right and say proper goodbyes.

In my life to date, I have learned one Japanese word at Benihana, another word from watching Shogun, and E taught me a third Japanese word yesterday. None of them are of any use in the situation at hand. I'll be back assisting S in the weeks to come, God willing, and so perhaps I can learn some more words, helpful ones this time. But I don't know what words to ask to be taught.

Toward the end of our shift, S and E used bedsheets and traction to rotate Miyoko in bed from her back to her side, while I handed over pillows to be tucked in beside Miyoko so that she would not fall out of bed. I saw Miyoko's skinny legs, her skin grown loose and pale, her vulnerability and weakness and mortality and finally, her gratitude.

Even though we can barely speak to each other, still I understand: She's one of my kind.

Labels: friends

  ¶ 3:31 PM 3 Comments

  Goodspaceguy Nelson
I believe tiny-dog has already ranted about the quality of candidates running for obscure public offices, but I think I might have a winning candidate for the most "out there" (bad pun intended). Meet Goodspaceguy Nelson:  ¶ 9:07 PM 3 Comments