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thursday, november 30 I don't think that I've told you about my grandmother. Betty. She wasn't a very happy person and I think that much of the difficulties encountered by my mother and I were most likely a resonance of something that might have happened thirty years before. Whenever the twins, my mother and her brother Paul ran wild, Betty would complain about the her difficult labour delivering the babies. Trouble was, the twins were adopted. My mother found out at the age of twenty one when Betty, in the heat of anger, blurted out "well, you're not my daughter anyway!" Betty became more bitter as she grew older and given the circumstances of my grandfather Ben's passing, it's no wonder. Ben, in the throws of a heart attack, called to her one night from the bathroom. She ran to assist him but they toppled over. Ben was a large man and Betty, a tiny, birdlike woman. Ben died leaving Betty pinned beneath his corpse overnight. Their neighbours became suspicious the next morning when the milk bottles hadn't been collected, and came to investigate. I don't know why I'm thinking about Betty.   ![[pause]](img/pause.gif){kind=small} New at Osil8: Press nothing to continue. The Baby-Distracting Dance. The web cam is once again functional. Stop by and see if you can catch me picking my nose! Tomorrow is World AIDS Day. How will you observe? Merde. What a difference an errant </span> can make. A thousand apolgies if you experienced any layout weirdness yesterday afternoon. I need to pay more attention if I'm going to fiddle with my bits. Yesterday? Inspiration. "At a dance, pointing out to your beautiful partner, the ludicrous vulgarity of man who, she blushingly informs you, is her brother." wednesday, november 29 Inspiration
We at harrumph! have been apprised of the 100% shikse tax - give double presents (not receive) - during Hanukkah. Confirmation would be appreciated. I'm going bananas! Ed's Montreal photos are making me feel somewhat nostalgic. Hit reload! I received the same attachment today. It's good for a giggle. Yesterday? Dildo be thy name. "Travelling in a mail-coach one hundred and eighty miles, and all the way having your nose offended by the most horrible stench, which each of the passengers thinks proceeds from his neighbour, upon arriving at the Swan with Two Necks, discovering that the mauvaise odeur issued from a putrid hare under one of the seats, which, owing to the carelessness of the guard, has been permitted to perform two journeys to town." tuesday, november 28 Straight to hell One of the little perks for becoming a KQED member earlier this year was a subscription to San Francisco magazine. December's issue features "Gear up for the holidays - 10 local stars reveal their shopping secrets." Tips for those of us who might be long on cash and short of ideas. And one of those stars? Craig Newmark. That's the Craig of Craig's List. He's a Cole Valley fixture. Mr. Newmark's advice? "Good friends get a $75 gift certificate to Good Vibrations. 'Even an assertive girlfriend finds it hard to buy this kind of item for herself.' Between the hardware store and the, uh, other hardware store, Newmark keeps to his gift-giving creed: the right tool for the right job." He was photographed at Good Vibrations in front the "non silicone dildos" display. Enticing names like "duke," "emperor chocolate 7," "the joystick," and "champ 1" are scribbled across the surface. I see him on my way to the gym, while I stand in line for tea at Reverie or when I buy unhealthy treats at Alpha and I can't help thinking... "Dildo." Don't get me wrong, he's not a dildo. It's just the word. I want to blush, but I'm years passed that. It pops into my mind and I'm afraid that, one of these days, it will pop out of my mouth. "Dildo." I'm going straight to hell. Don't miss Tom Friedman at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. It's a very fine show. "Have a smell of Panda droppings. This one is very fragrant." Heeellllooooo Shauna! I'm sorry, was that The Legend of Baggy Pants? Yesterday? Fickle style. "The endless interval while you are sitting by a lady, whom you consider it your duty to entertain, but who does not consider it as her duty to be entertained." monday, november 27 Style My new shoes have it. Or do they? There's a fine line between something that's kind of snazzy and something that's downright orthopaedic. Sometimes I look down and I think, "don't they look fine!" In the blink of an eye, they're Frankenstein, baby! Big, square, black and clunky. Style is just so damn fickle. I hate that.  400, baby! Twenty new FOJM brings the total to 404.Likely suspects include Oliver, Stefanie, Issy, Boogie, Randall, Tones, Tom, Scott, Jenny, Kate, Steve, Ismael, Cameron, Rony, Rik, Simone, Tudy, Harlan, and Artboy. There's always room for more. Jakob has a posse! There's a new pixhell over chez waferbaby. Elise is collecting superstitions. Friday? Our home and native spam! "Taking a walk in the garden of a friend with whom you are engaged to dine, unexpectedly passing by the kitchen, and seeing the cookmaid chewing the parsley previous to mixing it with the butter for the fowls that you are to have for dinner, by which process she saves herself the very unnecessary trouble of boiling and chopping it." friday, november 24 O Spam-a-da! "We don't like invading your privacy, but we're scared! Afraid that Canada is becoming the 51st U.S. state, while the politicians and media say nothing! Here's why we're worried: [snip - blah, blah, blah, blah] The Canadian Action Party (CAP) was formed because Canada is headed for trouble! Our country and our democracy are in danger. On November 27, we need your vote to keep the True North strong and free! Please forward this to your family and friends -- because every vote counts. Click below to find out more about the critical issues at stake in this election -- and how the Canadian Action Party is fighting to protect Canada for future generations! O Canada or No Canada? The Choice Is Yours! Thank you for your time, The Hon. Paul Hellyer, Leader, Canadian Action Party Authorized by the Official Agent for the Canadian Action Party" I don't think that anyone will ever again contest the idea that a single vote doesn't count, but receiving spam from a numbered MSN email account with an url for a page that has gone 404 doesn't really inspire voter confidence. "Home, home is where you wear you hat. I feel so breakup, I want to go home." "Laugh while you can, monkey boy!" "Remember, no matter where you go, there you are." "We'll have no unnecessary floating aboard this ship." "Gee frank, do you have to be so technical?" "The valley is mine, everything in it is mine, including you." God bless the SciFi channel, movie marathons and holidays. The day before yesterday? Crap-o-la, baby! "When you are peaceably reading your paper at a coffee house, two friends, perfect strangers to you, squatting themselves down at your right and left hand, and talking across you, for an hour, over their private and utterly trivial concerns." wednesday, november 22 Crap For the past three days I've walked into the corner store multiple times each day with a single goal in mind. Toilet paper. It happened again this morning. Toilet paper and milk. Two simple items, right? What did I purchase? Raspberries, seedless green grapes, three beautiful navel oranges and a litre of Diet Coke. The milk? Nope. More importantly, the toilet paper? That's a negative. Merde (that's a fancy way of saying "shit" in another language)! I'm going to commence a scientific study to determine average toilet paper usage, with the added allowance for an unforseen drippy nose, tears, spills and visitors. With data in hand, I'll schedule a recurring delivery. If they can bring water to my door on a regular basis, they can surely bring the object to deal with the end result. In the interim, Bounty has, quite literally, saved my ass. They don't call it the "quicker picker upper" for nothing. This mental lapse has been such a bummer. Somehow, paper towels in lieu of toilet paper seems like a step back on the evolutionary scale. I must get my shit together. jezebel was mentioned over at THREE.OH this morning... I'm tickled pink. Brad's "continuing compilation of encounters with the culture of celebrity." Elise 1, SUV 0. Ha! Friday is Buy Nothing Day. Step away from that register, baby! Happy Thanksgiving: When you care enough to send the very best.... How about Get Stuffed! or Eat me? Send your own. Yesterday? Brushes with celebrity. "On entering the room, to join an evening party composed of remarkably grave, strict and precise persons, suddenly to find out that you are drunk, and (what is still worse), that the company has shared with you in the discovery." tuesday, november 21 Spooky "uh, i can relate to your story, 'fuck you harvey keitel'. i was on the upper east side years ago walking with all my 'art school girls of doom' equipment, feeling downtrodden, when this crazy fuck jumps out from a tiny unmarked doorway wearing just a tattered gray bathrobe, grazing me with his garbage bag. He came out of the doorway so quickly that I froze in fear. I stood there staring at this man for a second and as he turned and started back to the doorway i saw that it was Christopher Walken. He's just as spooky in person as he is in the movies..." - Catherine Christopher Walken! If it was a Dead Zone Christopher Walken, well, it wouldn't be too bad. But Prophecy III Christopher Walken? That's downright scary. Prophecy III Christopher Walken looks like he's dishwasher safe. What about you? Do have any odd brushes with celebrity? {fray} asks what are you thankful for? Separated at birth? Perhaps this has been noted elsewhere. My apologies if so. Good news. The web cam will be back in action next week. It's going to take a trade-in as yet another manufacturer, who will not support Windows 2000, is more than happy to take my money in exchange for another product that will work. Merde. Oh, everything worked out with the pooch. He's crashed out, post beach run, over in the corner. Happy Thanksgiving: When you care enough to send the very best.... How about Get Stuffed! or Eat me? Send your own. Yesterday? Giving thanks. "While very poor, and likely to remain so, the tantalizing task you have imposed on yourself of continually adding to your visionary catalogue of the books to be bought when rich" (Amazon wish list? Ed.) monday, november 20  Giving thanks I have much to give thanks for this year. It's been quite the year of change and for the first time in a long time, most of the change has been good. Actually, good doesn't even cover the half of it. And the not so good stuff? I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it will work out in the long run. I had a dream that was like a television action drama. The female lead wore a striking ring that had a human eye imbedded in plastic. The eye was "alive" and could still see, moving left and right. She went to a party where she met a man with one glass eye. He followed her home on the bus. We, the viewer, could see that his "good" eye and the one within her ring would turn in unison, and we knew then that she had "stolen" his eye. He followed her into her apartment where he attempted to kill her to retrieve his eye. He tried to stab her with a knife but she pulled out a gun and shot him through the head. She then stooped and scooped out his remaining eye. Doggie dilemma. I'm the interstitial dog sitter today (Tuesday). Between Tim & Tom leaving and Julia coming to retrieve him early this evening, Dixon is supposed to hang out with me. While I'm pretty thrilled with the prospect of having a pooch chez moi, Dixon is decidedly un-thrilled. He's growling at me. This doesn't bode well. Any suggestions? Happy Thanksgiving. When you care enough to send the very best.... How about Get Stuffed! or Eat me? Send your own. EOD: "But that still doesn't excuse the dildo." Just can't get enough of that "d" word. behold: seeing beauty. Must submit! Mononoke LEGO. Eric, aka Mr. Lego, gets fancy. Need I say more? Farscape Action Figures. More fodder for the holiday list! Yesterday? Inside, outside, upside down. "Finding yourself reduced by your own stupidity either to beg for an explanation of a joke that all the rest of the company are enjoying, or to keep your gravity, while you are longing to lose it." sunday, november 19 Inside, outside, upside down "Why is it that children can be so hateful towards one another? Perhaps as adults, we've learned to temper our actions but childhood trauma can be long lasting. One lunchtime, when I was in grade six, sitting on the rolling hill behind the school, the group of girls that I hung out with, many for a number of years, said "Heather, we don't want you to hang out with us anymore." I remember standing, turning and walking back down to the school. I stood just inside the doors watching them, wondering what made them so different from me. I wish I could have been stronger. I wish that it hadn't mattered to me so much. I wish I could have said "fuck you," held my head high, but you're not equipped to deal with events like this at that age. That single moment has coloured much of my life. It has made me doubt many of my relationships as I always wait for people to realize that I am unworthy of friendship. I've long fantasized about meeting those girls, of running into them someplace, looking them straight in the eye and saying 'you don't know what you've missed.'" I wrote that back in March. It was very cathartic. I felt years of anger, doubt and pain wash away. If you think you're standing on the "outside" looking "in", or standing on the "inside" looking "out", you're fooling yourself. Walls only exist within your mind. Free yourself.  This weeks FOJM is quite the globe trotting adventure with photographs from New York, New Orleans, Singapore, Seoul, Dubai, Coventry, Calgary and Melbourne (among others).It's a global thing, baby! Likely suspects include Sam, Amber, Bryan, Suzen, Evelyn, Boogie, Karl, Claire, Hillery & Barb, Michael, Chris, Michele and Kelly, Simon, kkurtz and Sabi. There's always room for one more. Picked up Caleb Carr's Killing Time. I quite enjoyed The Alienist and The Angel of Darkness - hopefully my enthusiasm will survive the leap from Victorian-era New York City to the year is 2023. How could I pass on: "Since the E. coli breakout of 2021, hamburgers have become a luxury, the oceans have become lifeless masses of brown sludge, and the air in New York has grown so polluted the mayor advises citizens to stay indoors for anything less than an emergency. But that's not all: A staphylococcus epidemic decimated 40 million people worldwide in 2006, and a devastating stock market crash leveled global economies in 2007. More importantly, the information age has not made good on its promise of a "free exchange of knowledge." Instead, societies have fallen victim to a "love affair with information technology," and their citizens have been virtually brainwashed by information under control of the nations' leaders." My own proclivity towards E. coli makes it a natural. Credit, where credit is due: "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. I've got something large stuck in my ear!" - Derek M. Powazek (who was not harmed in any way during this utterance). Want to add discussion to your Blogger blog? Check out BlogVoices. It's the thing that's powering harrumph! discussion. [Thanks to Prol for the reminder] It would appear that Jezebel was a recent HotPick over at WebbieWorld. Thanks for the honour! We're thrilled. Friday? Ants, ants, ants! "The joys of reading in bed in the Winter, i.e. overlaying one of your arms till it is cramped, and exposing the other till it is frostbitten ... with the relief, however, of perpetually shifting from one uneasy posture to another, from the advantage either of fumbling over the leaf, snuffing your dim light, or preventing the partial eclipse occasional by intervention of that opaque item, your head, from becoming total." friday, november 17 The little bastards "I'll never be a good buddhist!"  The little fuckers are driving me bananas. They don't bite, they don't nest, but they're pushy little buggers who insist on carting away the detritus of my life. There's nothing like a few ants to question your suzy homemaker skills. It shouldn't be much of a surprise to know that I'm not a slave to my vacuum cleaner. I hate cleaning. It makes me grumpy and I can think of a thousand and one things that I'd rather be doing that forcing my Electrolux around the ranch. So, I've taken to spaying Black Flag Ant & Roach Killer (with a fresh "Pine Scent") to keep "them" at bay. It makes me just a little more than uncomfortable to be using anything with the following Precautionary Statements:"Caution: May cause skin irritation. Harmful if swallowed or absorbed through the skin. Avoid contact with skin and clothing. Avoid breathing spray. Avoid eye contact. Wash thoroughly with soap and water after handling. Do not apply to humans, pets, dishes or utensils. Do not use this product in food areas of commercial food handling establishments, restaurants or other places where food is prepared or processed. Do not contaminate feed or foodstuffs. Do not allow children in treated areas until surfaces are dry. Do not smoke while using. Provide adequate ventilation of areas being treated."I may get rid of the ants by spraying them with this toxic cocktail but I'm lost likely doing myself in at the same time.I've got ants in my pants, baby!Literally! Dildo Training: "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. I've got something large stuck in my ear!" As some suspected, Dildo Training is in fact, something. Thanks to Anil, I'm more the wiser. I'd love to tell you, but I can only blush so many shades of crimson in one day. An exercise in national unity! Help force Stockwell Day change his name to Doris Day. So far 623,486 have signed the petition! [via Aaronland and Consolation Champs] Meg pointed me to Disturbing Search Requests. Nuff said. Loobylu's Celebrity Chef might provide some relief from my ho-hum diet. Yesterday? Search me. "Reading newspaper poetry, which, by a sort of fatality that you can neither explain nor resist, you occasionally slave through, in the midst of the utmost repugnance and disgust." thursday, november 16 Search me Some search strings that appear in my referrer logs give me pause. You have to wonder if they were disappointed? "rats that live in chernobyl" "piggyback strong woman" "very large image of barbie" "freaks who suspect" "dildo training" Oh, I know! It must have been from that now infamous rats/chernobyl/piggyback/barbie/dildo post. "It has come to my attention that there are freaks who suspect that there are very large rats that live in Chernobyl. Rats the size of China or at the very least, larger than my miniscule apartment. You've seen the apartment so don't think of pish-posh-ing me. C'mon they are large enough to piggyback a strong woman. Not some stringy, young chicken thing, but a good, strong woman. Strong woman is unflattering you say? Well, strong woman doesn't mean that she isn't attractive. A strong woman is a woman who eats her Wheaties. A strong woman is a woman who isn't confused by poorly designed ballots. You might even mistake her for this very large image of Barbie. [image] Oh well, we better commence our dildo training now in the event they (the rats, not the freaks) make it this far. I'll be posting your equipment list shortly...." Dildo training? It shows up with alarming frequency. What can people be searching for? dictionary.com: "An object used as a substitute for an erect penis." The use would seem pretty straightforward, don't you think? Some of your thoughts on my career change "Dingo Inspector - Second Class in Perth, Australia. The Dingo Inspection Agency (DIA) is trying to integrate its employees and bring more women into the fold. The pay is okay, but the perks, whoa baby, the perks are wonderful. I quote form the DIA's recruitment pamphlet, 'Full body search of a dingo? Hell, mate, it doesn't get any better than that!' " - bakiwop "Being psychic as I am, I have always felt like elephants (yes, to a psychic, "elephants" is a feeling) when I read your web page, and yet I have never been able to put my finger on why. Then it hit me - you should become an elephant trainer! Sure, it may not sound glamorous, but believe you me, it is. Also, there is no downsizing of the circus either (how would you downsize an elephant?) So, being an elephant trainer, you would have all the benefits of a great job. Interesting co-workers (i.e. the Bearded Woman and that guy that walks on his hands all the time), job security and wouldn't it be cool to say "I'm going to the Big Top" and mean that you're going to work??" - Damon I think you should become a usability expert. It's obviously very profitable - but be sure to become a "guru" as a opposed to an "expert". After all, "gurus" are like "super-experts" - Chasson "A princess. No doubt about it. You got the Grace Kelly thing going on..." - Davezilla Ha! More proof that golf is ee-vil! I'm going to leave it that. I'm not going to to into my well rehearsed diatribe about how golf is sucking the life force out of the planet. I'll spare you that. Today. Yesterday? Get a job. "After a long and animated debate with a friend, in the dark, and just as you have drawn forth all your strong arguments, ad are beginning exultingly to infer from his long silence that you have completely worsted him, and that he has not another word to say - receiving his answer in a strong, steady snore, which shows him to have been in a sweet sleep for the last quarter of an hour." wednesday, november 15 Insert something mildly pithy here There's not much love here today at harrumph! Don't take that the wrong way. I love you. In fact, I love you this much (open your arms wide). Life is a little less stellar than normal. It's just that I find myself in the unenviable position of looking for a new job come the new year. Just another statistic of the grumpy market. We have no love for the market here at harrumph! So, I was thinking that this might be a fine time to consider a career change. What do you think? Ballerina, fireman, navy seal, belly dancer, magician, magician's assistant, burger flipper, beautician, camp counsellor, librarian, princess? The possibilities are endless. Clarification. It has come to my attention that yesterday's post might have been somewhat confusing. The new roommate to whom I was referring is a small rectangular box of black metal with TiVo branding. It wasn't my intention to besmirch the television viewing habits of my favourite bi-ped. No. 2 (Blue, Red and Green). Rothko abstract fetches $11 million at record-breaking Sotheby's sale. Brig is posting sillys: "To the citizens of the United States of America, In the light of your failure to elect a President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today." Judith spotting: Tuesday, November 14, 2000, Palermo long-distance... Yesterday? The A-Team. "Being on the bri ... on the bri ... on the bri ... (sneezes) ... ink of a sneeze for a quarter of an hour together; and yet, with all your gasping and sobbing, never being able to compass it." tuesday, november 14 My new roommate and I are having a few issues when it comes to what we should watch on TV. He wants to watch the A-Team and Street Fighter. He was up all night making sure that they were recorded for posterity. And, just now? I just caught him trying to record Agnes of God. Again! Jane Fonda, Anne Bancroft, Meg Tilly and Montreal. What more could a girl ask for? Science fiction, baby. That's what I want. If it happens here on earth without extenuating circumstances like being able to become invisible, leap tall buildings or turn into an alien, well, it's just not my cup of tea. I want deep space, funny polyester uniforms and multiple instances of body parts like eyes, ears and other small appendages. I should qualify that. Anything with very large explosions, and limited, stilted dialogue is somewhat ok. The A-Team? Perhaps he was slightly confused with all the hooey floating around regarding elitism and the mythical "A-List." That's a completely different show. It's just as formulaic, but far less interesting. I will confess to a fleeting fantasy of a May-December fling with Col. John "Hannibal" Smith aka George Pepard some years ago. It must have been the way he chomped on that nasty cigar. Someone with an oral fixation like that might have a few tricks up his sleeve. This weeks FOJM update added twenty-nine new photographs including the likes of
Sam,
Erica,
Aaron,
Mark,
Crazy Uncle Joe,
Tina,
Dominique,
Lori,
Jay,
Nick,
Michael,
Amy,
Kaite,
Brett
Miriam,
Beto,
Tim,
Hovie,
Roberto, and
Eloy & Valentina.There's always room for another celebrity. Judith spotting continues. From Caterina - "I heard she was last seen on the arm of some renowned Sicilian rake! Oh my god! Should we intervene?" Jason's sister needs a few good people to answer TV Commercial Advertising in the Age of New Technology. It only takes a minute. Have I mentioned how much I love Nerve magazine? Candy Land is coming. I promise. Yesterday? A day without weblogs. "On the morning after entering your name in the book of arrivals, perceiving with astonishment that, wherever you appear, you are the mark of general whispers, accompanied with a sort of curiosity equally pointed and unflattering, till, at the moment of your departure, the mystery is unveiled by the casual discovery of the truth - that your are indebted for this singular reception to the accident of bearing both the Christian and surname of the most notorious murderer in the country." - Miseries of Watering Places, The Miseries of Human Life monday, november 13 I can't say this more eloquently than Brad: 
World AIDS DayFriday, December 1, 2000 "Each December 1, World AIDS Day, the creative community observes A Day With(out) Art, in memory of all those the AIDS pandemic has taken from us, and in recognition of the many artists, actors, writers, dancers and others who continue to create and live with HIV and AIDS. A Day Without Art was created by the group Visual AIDS in New York City. For the past few years, Creative Time has organized a Day Without Art observance on the worldwide web, encouraging diverse website designers and administrators to darken their site and convey AIDS prevention and education information to their visitors. Last year, more than 50 webloggers observed the first Day Without Weblogs. Since then, the personal web publishing community -- weblogs, journals, diaries, personal websites of every kind -- has grown significantly. Once again, I invite everyone who produces personal content on the web to participate in this global observance." Please participate. Here's the full poop. The A List. Lovely folk. They come to brunch and they camp out! Not that I mind. In fact, they could all move in. TiVo. "It's TiVo calling for Mr. Champ!" Future travel plans? Fly over that big red bit in the middle. Red Planet. Not as bad as Battlefield Earth (which doesn't say much - Battlefield Earth completely realigned my evaluation scale) better than Mission to Mars (which says a little more). Add this to my holiday list. Jeffrey has an unwanted visitor. If it's Monday, it must be John: Ask a brilliant but eccentric sleuth who is as mysterious as the many legendary crimes that he has solved, and who has since gone into hiding. Thursday? Burn, baby, burn. "The top of your tea-pot suddenly slipping off while you are cautiously dribbling it's scanty contents into your cup. Or, a tea-pot that won't our except through the top - that which you intend your cup trickling instead down your fingers, into your sleeve and over the cloth." - Miseries of the Table, The Miseries of Human Life thursday, november 9 Playing with fire  Fire dancer, Cellspace open house Somehow I don't think that there's going to be a group hug when this is all over. I just hope we don't get burned! "We seek her here, we seek her there, Those Frenchies seek her everywhere. Is she in heaven?--Is she in hell? That demmed, elusive Pimpernel?" I've been remiss in not reporting the successful conclusion to oogey smell problem. My wee "curious George" of a nephew, Eamon, had squirrelled something oogey into the plastic watering can. The oogey thing had spawned a whole bunch of other oogey things. All these oogey things, old and new, were smelly. Really smelly. All have been removed though the plastic watering can may never been the same. Lesson learned? Toddler = squirrel! System status: Mars is awash in feathers. It's quite lovely. I wanted to run out and dance in the eddy's of circling goose down in a Busby Berkeley extravaganza of one. Somehow, I don't think the neighbours would approve. Yesterday? You're a star! "A bad Exhibition! Being obliged to admire a painting that is but a lurid whirl of miscellaneous monstrosities - this obscure and turbid fermentation of flounderings abortions, which would seem to be inhabited by beings - or rather, ambiguous and reserved innuendoes of beings - fluctuating somewhere among the shadowy and unsettled nomenclatures of incantation, demon, wizard, griffin, goblin, &c., &c." - Miseries of the Fashionable Life, The Miseries of Human Life wednesday, november 8 "Holy fuck." I'd had to sign a release for the image that appears on page 102 of the November 13th New Yorker. The image appeared small, dark and scratchy in the fax that had accompanied the release. So, imagine my surprise when I cracked open a copy while standing in line at the corner store on Monday afternoon. "Holy fuck." That's what I said. Loud enough for the two gentlemen standing in front of me to turn around and glare at the potty mouth behind them. I blushed crimson and murmured an ineffective apology. It's huge! It's in colour! It's FOJM in The New Yorker! But, here's the best part. If you're a FOJM, you are a "Web celebrity." "The picture was posted on a Web site belonging to a friend of Meg's who collects photographs of the mirrors of Web celebrities." Baby, The New Yorker has confirmed something that I've known all along! You're a star. I find Caterina's comments about the fibromyalgia article in the New York Times very interesting. I'm feeling rather down about doctors and health care at the moment. A general feeling of ooginess led me back to the doctors a couple of weeks ago. Turns out that my wee friend E.coli made a return visit. Yeah for antibiotics! Isn't it a bit odd that it would reappear after only six months? Who knows. Did I leave feeling like a hysterical female? Yes. Did the doctor seem at all concerned? No. The whole experience has left me feeling rather flat. I'm thinking of finding another doctor. New in {fray} : I voted 2000. I'm thrilled to make my debut as a fray author. I bought a TiVo today. This is why. Yesterday? Crazy-assed dreams. "After having left a company in which you have been galled by the raillery of some wag, thinking, at your leisure, of a repartee, which, if it had been discharged at the proper moment, would have blown him to atoms." - Miseries of the Social Life, The Miseries of Human Life tuesday, november 7 The black balloon I had the most crazy-assed dream last night. I was sitting in a large, open meadow of long rippling grass. The meadow stretched off in every direction as far as the eye could see with the hills and valleys of some old, beaten down mountain range barely visible off in the distance. My father, who just happened to be Cary Grant (circa To Catch a Thief) and I were seated, enjoying the warmth of the pale, spring sun. I was younger, wearing a long blue, sort of Laura Ashley dress, with thick red tights and black patent shoes. Perhaps it wasn't me. We can only hope - the outfit was atrocious. We were talking, watching the beautiful green grass ripple and everything smelt clean and fresh, just like a sea of grass would on a sunny day. My fingers popped the two brass clasps on the old, small, brown, leather suitcase in my lap. I opened it to reveal my treasured collection of black and red plastic lint brushes. The lint brushes were of all shapes and sizes, artfully arranged in some semblance of Mondrian's Broadway Boogie-Woogie. I smiled at my father, jumped to me feet and ran towards two rocks which were just visible above the horizon of the grass. The smaller of the two was a stepping stone to the second. Above both rocks hovered a large, black weather balloon with a long, thick, black rope, attached to a black handle. Hopping from the first to the second rock, I grabbed the balloon's handle and immediately sailed swiftly upwards. My father was running after me shouting. He became smaller and smaller below me, crying words that I couldn't hear. My right hand firmly gripped the handle and in my left, the small brown suitcase full of lint brushes. Filled with an incredible joy and happiness, I sailed over the approaching mountains towards the wide blue sea. Is Dr. Freud in the house? What does this mean? You tell me! Judith had a fabulous Monday evening. At her insistence, we caught a plane to Las Vegas and gambled into the wee hours, only to return to San Francisco somewhat poorer early this morning. Her confused coworkers wondered that she was wearing the same outfit as I dropped her at the office direct from the airport. She wants to do it again tonight.... I'm a little bit worried about her. The Soapboxgirls have conducted The women zinester survey. Yesterday? Kibble and bits "Living in chambers under a man who takes private lessons in dancing" - Miseries of the Town, The Miseries of Human Life monday, november 6 I got my hands dirty on Saturday. Really dirty and it felt fabulous. I don't know about you, but I find that pushing pixels around a screen can lack a certain something when it comes to truly tangible results so I signed up for a pottery course down in the Castro. We began our journey with wheel throwing. Expect an excessively ugly, lopsided, personalized mug for the holidays. What do you do to let off a little steam? Comment, baby. This weeks FOJM update added twenty-eight new photographs including the likes of
Sam,
Melanie,
Brian,
Phil,
Dexter,
Rebecca & Cal,
Monica,
Eloy & Valentina,
Bruce,
Erica,
Vojtaz,
Mike,
Yael,
Jason,
Peter,
Nicolas,
Rick,
Jeri, Tones, John, and
Artboy.Won't you join us? Remember to get out and vote tomorrow. If you can vote and you don't, I'll personally come over and spank you. Tip 'o the day. Pouring hot water over ones hands is not a good idea. Dack has a few highlights from the GQ's September Boo hoo. "It was pretty damn easy to purchase pills and lines or anything else in that office. One time in the London office, we passed around a CD cover with lines of cocaine on it." Damn... His name is on the tip of my tongue, but it just escapes me. I think that we've all met or worked with someone like that. Ed and Aaron redecorate. Surprise Wedding update. THEY ALL SAID YES! Are you as horrified as I am? Don't get me wrong, I've very happy for all the brides and their grooms. I wish them every happiness as they step forward onto the freeway of life, but don't you wonder? Wonder how it will all turn out? These men didn't want to get married. They had their various reasons for not wanting to say "I do." Perhaps FOX will follow up in a year to see if they're all together. Merci milles fois to all those who endured the second hour and emailed the gory details. Friday? Surprise! Haiku was halcyon and Rumi was ruminating... We're off to quite different pastures. I mined the following gem while toddling through the sales tables at Books Inc. "In early 1806, James Beresford, an English rector, published The Miseries of Human Life. The book lists, in excruciating detail, and with the utmost elegance of expression, the multitude of petty outrages, minor humiliations and tiny discomforts that make up everyday human existence. Beresford arranged his pageant of calamities in a series of "Groans" about the body, about travelling, about social life, about life in town and life in the country, among other unspeakable horrors." And without any further ado, I bring you the miseries of human life... "Sitting down alone in a large party upon a sofa that makes an equivocal noise." - Miseries of Social Life, The Miseries of Human Life friday, november 3 Surprise! Ok, ok. I'll confess that I'm both appalled and enthralled by Surprise Wedding. Fox, those charmers, who brought, or rather foisted, the "Who Wants To Marry A Multi Millionaire" debacle on us earlier this year were at it again last night. "Most women dream of a lavish wedding with friends and family gathered in an intimate setting. For a frustrated few, however, a national primetime audience will have to do! The real surprise is that there are also a few guys out there begging their women to settle down. Tired of waiting for their partners to commit, these men and women have agreed to a Surprise Wedding!Utter crap! I wish that I'd taken notes. Some of the teasers were downright appalling.... Something about a last ditch attempt to convince their poor, bewildered beau to do the right thing and say "I do." Can't really say that this is the way that I would want to spend "the first day of the rest of my life." Why didn't I just change the channel? I was rubber-necking with a capital "R." It had all the fascination of a slow motion train wreck. You know that it's going to be bad. That's a given. It's a stinker. We have to assume that every extreme car chase, every extreme animal attack and every other venue for extreme bad taste in television has been exhausted for Fox to continue forward with Surprise Wedding. The horror.... Missed the conclusion.... and it's impossible to find anything online this morning (which is most likely a very good thing). Who knows who said yes, and who ran screaming from the studio? Ahem.... If you know, then please, for the love of god, tell me. IBM does have a sense of humour! Surprised? I was. The Web 2000 party was littered with "IBM supports creativityTM post cards. "The use of the word supports in the statement IBM supports creativityTM in no way indicates emotional, financial or any other manner of support." "Of the many shades of blue, some lighter, some darker, IBM is the biggest." The text is rather funny and covers most of both sides. It's the small print, baby! I picked up a few extra. Canadian Favourites: A unique taste of home. Oh, my god! Vachon Cakes! President's Choice Chocolate Chip Cookies! Shreddies! Pirate Peanut Butter Cookies! Maple Leaf Cream Cookies! Merde. Who needs an Amazon Wish List. Just buy me one of everything if you love me! [Thanks Mike] Lynsey is familiar with the Dead Mouse Smell. Yesterday? Stink pot. "You have said what your are. I am what I am. Your actions in my head, my head here in my hands with something circling inside. I have no name for what circles so perfectly." - All In Battle, The Essential Rumi thursday, november 2 Steenk pot! The above is pronounced with a faux French accent. Steenk pot! Code word for the day here chez moi at casa harrumph! Can't quite put my finger on the source, but there's a distinct oogey smell eminating from somewhere over near the sink. I found myself walking around in a Tai Chi + modern dance ballet, sniffing, trying to suss out the culprit. Couldn't find it but I'm sure I entertained the neighbours. I am Isadora Duncan, I am Polibolus, I am LaLaLa HumanSteps. Missed my true calling and the world of modern dance will never know what it has lost. Ya... Right! Back to the smell. Every once and awhile my nose is hooked by a thin, tendril-like finger of scent, somewhat akin to the green hand of death in The Ten Commandments. It's not a "something crawled under the stove and the died" smell which was a recurring event during the years when I shared quarter with a cat. Princess Dorothea Blanche Champ (aka Dot) had never been much of a killing machine. She was born deaf and always followed her own drummer. The whole age-old cat vs. mouse thing just didn't seem to blip on her radar. Until the day of death. I opened the front door to a scene that resembled The Killing Fields. There were dead mice everywhere. Who knows what switch flipped in her little kitty brain but she became Dot the Magnificent Mouse Killer. One escaped her mighty paw though, and crawled under the stove. Course, we didn't know it that day, or the next. But then.... There is absolutely nothing like the smell of a dead mouse. Even one whiff remains imprinted on your brain forever. The next and subsequent times you smell that smell your brain immediately responds "yup, that's a cold, stone, former mouse, there... and if I'm not mistaken, well, it's been there for some time." Come out come out wherever you are, you stinky thing! Surprise wedding? Hasn't anyone learned anything about anything? Shoot me! Oh, it's on right now. Channel 2. Yesterday? X-men! "When a wind of personal reaction comes, I do not go along with it. There are many winds full of anger, and lust and greed. They move the rubbish around, but the solid mountain of our true nature stays where it's always been." - All In Battle, The Essential Rumi wednesday, november 1 X-men "I had a dream that I was having an affair with X." "I had a dream that I was married and having an affair with X." So, who the hell is X? Damned if I know. Sissy Heather, who kept a dream diary a number of years ago during a somewhat emotionally turbulent time of her life, didn't seem to want to mark down the names of the two individuals with whom she was having naughty nocturnal dalliances. Damn! I really am a wimp. Waiter, a spine! I'll just add that to my holiday wish list. So far, I've listed a fancy Casio watch, a fruit cake and now a spine. Here's a dream (no X's though): "I had a dream that Frankenstein like monsters were trying to kill the human race by taking people apart and then putting them back together using different bits and pieces - except the soul would be left out. At the end of the dream I was trying to kill the monsters by hacking their heads off with a lead pipe. I awoke wretching." Dream 51 The Lemon Daughters was another. Common threads within the diary appear to be running away, costume balls, suicide, and murder. Dr. Freud? Eric's Slashdotted again! That's number three, in case you were counting. And the cause? Not to let the grass grow under his feet, he followed up on the Lego Desk with Mona Lego. "It required over 30,000 pieces, including over 8,000 red 1x1 bricks, 3,000 black 1x1s, and 4,800 green 1x1s." Just goes to show you that a little chilly weather can kill a few brain cells. I'm a little frosty on the idea. CherryMag has re-printed Penis Envy. It's in the "Doodle" aisle. Lots of goodies in the mail yesterday. James and I are doing a little free trade. He's sent me a Canadian World Domination t-shirt in exchange for a FOJM. What he didn't mention was that he was going to send an entire box of the ever so yummy Ah Caramel delights. Here's the only way to eat one of these little puppies. In case you were wondering, no, that wasn't a giant spliff in my mouth, despite what some people might think. Yesterday? Vote, vote, vote! "Gamble everything for love, if you're a true human being. If not, leave this gathering." - The Three Fish, The Essential Rumi |
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