Baby Twitter Poems II

"4 is the loneliest"

There was a lonely time between 3 and 5 that knew not it was 4.

Baby Twitter Poems

Occasionally I writer Twitter poems.
Knowing that they won't get archived there, I'll collect them here:

"Ode To All Day Breakfast"

If breakfast is dinner and dinner is brunch,
Let's meat in the middle and have bacon for lunch.

Say It With Vowels

The Golden Girls

Showoff

There are some new pieces of information that make your life better.
Today I discovered the seeing eye horse - miniature ponies that are trained in the same capacity of seeing eye dogs.

I realized that if they trained Aye-Ayes in a similar way, they'd be called Seeing Eye Aye-Aye. Similarly, if I got trained to help the blind, I'd be a Seeing Eye Lei.
Or, if they trained one of the McDonald's mascots, they'd be Seeing Eye Fry Guys.




Go here if you want one: http://www.guidehorse.org/

Skellies!

In 1940, British colonial officer Gerald Gallagher found a human skeleton and a sextant box under a tree on Gardner Island, a coral atoll in the western Pacific. Colonial authorities took detailed measurements, and in 1998 forensic anthropologists judged that the skeleton had belonged to a "tall white female of northern European ancestry."

It may have been Amelia Earhart.

Still Hallowe'en Week? Check.

Ok, so given that I haven't written or done much of anything at all in the past..oh...4 months, I figure going hog wild on ridiculous costume ideas this week is the most easy, accessible and entertaining way to win back readership.

Today's selection: Costume wearers I'd never trust around young children.

We have everything from the drooling cycloptic patio umbrella...


To Roald Dahl throwback with a transsexual haircut Pederast


To the I'm-probably-56-years-old-and-male-under-here situation


The "Ok now we're really calling the cops. This is the third time we've seen him in the playground this week" (he's new!)


The rotting husk of a wax museum obsessed serial rapist.
So..just...no. Really, really, really just no to this guy as a babysitter.

Silence of the Lamb

Self explanatory.
Although if I could have a theme song chasing me around, it might well be this one.

Hallowe'en Costume Ideas

Sometimes people turn to the web for fun costume ideas.
I turn to the web...and more innocent times.






Note on this last one: if the two false faced clowns didn't do it for you, how about the Oil Derrick children?
There will be blood indeed.

See more here

Unabsurd for a Change

..likely to be followed by a post that is absurd. I lay awake in bed last night thinking about how I live for stories. The stranger the way stories are manifested, the greater the thrill. McSweeneys is excellent for that. If you don't know them, you should. Their publications are packaged as delightfully as the baby smooth prose they house.

I came across this page.
Who knew that spinal columns could be so tasty?

When the warm weather has gasped its last, I'm going to screw with some libraries.

Herewith, a new way of reading:





Go to this place for more spinal chills.

We Push Around a Lot of Old Ladies From Flawrida

I can't believe I haven't put this up before.
Without a doubt, a hidden gem - one of my favourite youtube videos of all time. I don't know if it's the dialogue (choice), the accent (aces) or the wide lapel suit from 1977 that make it, but somewhere - somewhere - in the magical combination of all three, genius is born. It's supposedly culled from the vault of a tv station. A alternative version to a real spot that ran - and ultimately a testament to the warped creative mind of the voice talent.

Approved

For Pomsterity

Have I mentioned how much I love Etsy?
I would like Etsy to be my boyfriend. It has all the qualifications: creative, eclectic, surprising, giving, humorous.

If Etsy and I went on a date, I'm sure he would come bearing treasures untold.
A knitted frog dissection shadowbox, a print of a dashing barn owl, a paper bird.
Perhaps then we would make crafts. Go wild blueberry picking. Rent a rowboat and sing Irish drinking ditties in the cicada filled summer air.
Perhaps not.

Only Etsy could dream this dose of extreme reality.
A weird finger on the weirder pulse of mortality. It may seem sweet, but imagine taking tea over the mortal remains of Captain Joaquin.


According to the vendor,

We offer several different styles of pet urns and several styles of jar urn designs. Our ceramic jar urns can be personalized and customized with the pet/persons photograph, name, etc. Possibilities are endless for the designs which can be done.

See it, read it, buy it here

Yer Toast, Buster!

I read a...well, no.
I SAW a strange picture today. Captured my imagination. Then I read on about it, and yea, there are theories, but I would like to posit my own and you be the judge.

THIS thing washed up on shore in Montauk.



Now, theories about neighbouring government animal testing facilities have been put forward. Then some claims about it being a part of a (rather sinister) viral marketing scheme for the Cartoon Network. Then some guy saying that photoshopping a turtle shell on its back will say everything.

These don't satisfy me. I think the answer is one that is more obvious, but perhaps more terrifying as well.

To me, there is little doubt that these are the remains of the hellbeast Zuul.


I think you'll agree.

Peep the original article

Hello, Nightmares



To all those vegetarians out there, recognize that nature can go naughty, leaving us cowering in its wake. (Cower! :D)
In this case, mad cow disease takes on sinister dimensions that I tremble to contemplate.

"When his chickens started disappearing a few weeks ago, a farmer in eastern India figured dogs or jackals were to blame - until he discovered his calf making a meal of his poultry. "I've never read or heard about cows turning carnivorous," said Mihir Tripathy. "They eat grass and other vegetarian food but not fish or other non-vegetarian stuff." (examiner)

via Trendhunter

Rice to the Occasion


I'll bear this in mind when I start wondering how to really please my man.

This One's For You, Heath



I have to give you something Bat themed because I'm going to see the Dark Knight tonight.
So following up on my blobfish post...I give you...
Batfish!

One of more than 60 different species of fishes found in warm sea, this fish has a broad head, slight body, and is covered in large gnarled lumps. Batfish are not good swimmers; they use their pectoral fins to "walk" on the ocean floor. When the batfish reaches adulthood, its dorsal fin becomes a single spine-like projection that lures prey. Batfish eat shrimps, mollusks, small fish, crabs, and worms.

Sub Aquatic Species resource: Pbs.org

Superlative Imperative


So I sent out a Tweet a week or so ago that will act as my springboard (ed. note: ok, I automatically fail here because I'm blogging about twittering. I could just stop but I like the sound of my own keys.)

I know when I've had a rough week, and being a writer of sorts means I strive to capture - in words, mind - that feeling. Thinking about this brings me to the simplest and trendiest way of putting it: Epic Fail.

But the internet stops there. I mean, what if something put it all over the top and Epic Fail fell short. Dare I say it - failed?

Needs be, I consult Thesaurus and see if I can cobble together a fun synonym for the Odyssey of Failings of Monday July 7 - Tuesday July 15. Thus far:

Saga of Suck

.......err. anyone?

It Was Bound To Happen. I Have Become Paul Reubens.



As anyone entering unfamiliar territory knows, you have to OBSERVE to BLEND.
So though I lived all my life in an East End Toronto neighbourhood, I processed the behaviours of my new West End Toronto neighbourhood to get hep.
Three seasons in, I realize I will have to flirt with one or both of the following :
An interest in jogging (unlikely to achieve)
A jaunty bicycle and a sundress (more likely to achieve).

Having read somewhere that picturesque gardens, pleasant neighbourly small talk and a yen for organic produce is generally the monstrous sociopath guise of choice, I decided I needed a bicycle. To like, fit in and stuff.

But hot damn if it ain't a trial to find a 5-speed cruiser of pleasing appearance in June.

Months and curses later, Craigslist served it up to me: a red bike, contoured like a Greek God (if they were bicycle shaped), with 5 speeds and a mushy seat for my bummish parts.
Granted, it's a Tim Horton's 40th anniversary bike, won through Roll Up the Rim to Win. But I think we remember how fond I am of Roll Up the Rim to Win, so the minus is actually a plus. And I've never been good with math anyway.

It rides like a wing chair on wheels. I barely feel massive clefts in the road. I am followed by a perpetual rendition of 'Sunshine and Lollipops'. My heart is filled with summer glee. More importantly though, the act of mere ownership will help me survive the night - my neighbours content that I have surrendered to the Annex in earnest.

But now I have an issue. My new velo smacks of THE BIKE from Pee Wee's big adventure.
Take a look. It really, really does.
So now the question remains: do I find the requisite tiger headed horn? The banana seat? Dear God - the streamers? Do I tempt neighbourly disdain (even bloodlust?) and throw myself to the mercy of Large Marge?