Friday, December 23, 2011

Fa La La La La! Part V

Ode to Soy Nog

Soy to the world! the Nog is come;
Let earth receive it's treat;
Let every cup prepare it room,
and vegans and the lactose intolerant drink,
and vegans and the lactose intolerant drink,
and vegans, and vegans and the lactose intolerant drink.

Parts 1,  2,  3 and 4.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Let's make cookies!

Today I looked at the grout in my kitchen and became depressed.

Three years ago I looked at my kitchen floor, which was then covered in impractical white linoleum, became depressed, and then I did this to it:

That's a banana sticker to the lower left.  I left it on my floor because it had personality.

Two years ago, after slowly removing all my impractical white linoleum and living on a concrete floor, I put down tile all by myself and it was beautiful and I was proud:

That's grout dust left on the floor.  I chose grout the same color as the tile and sealed the grout like a good handywoman should.  Grout sealing smells lovely and after sniffing it for as long as the directions suggested I should leave it to dry, I felt an urge to invite transgendered unicorns to tea and bake sugar cookies shaped like genitalia.

So, today, my grout looked like the wrong end of a Tijuana donkey show, which struck me as sad.  Not sad because I've never seen a donkey show but sad because my kitchen floor, as much as I cared for it, looks like what I'm assuming the cheap seats at a donkey show would reveal.

I mean, one day you have a new floor.  A shiny floor.  A floor you could roll sugar cookie dough on it if you were inclined to.  The next day you've got sticky greasy donkey residue all lurking in the cracks.  Nothing stays the same.  What you put value into doesn't last.

The novelty of new wears off.  That's when you're on your hands and knees with an industrial sized toothbrush and a can of cleanser with bleach which also has a delightful scent.  Do you have a pony?  Does it like chamomile?  If you have a donkey it's not invited.  I'm making snickerdoodles.

It's after the tea cools that you remember that you're lucky to live in a house with a roof and a floor.  Lucky to have access to household cleaners.  Lucky for fresh water coming right out of the tap on a whim.  Lucky to have the two dollars to purchase a brush which is only used to scrub grout.  Lucky to have a body that can do the work.

My grout is beautiful now.

...and a thankless chore, which ultimately no one will notice, has cleared my head, which isn't lucky...

It's wonderful.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Santa is going down your chimney.

Since the gods of the internets have debuted the new xxx domain designation, all the world's movers and shakers have bought up their names with a porny ending.  This is because when you own your own porn site no one else can besmirch your good name with it.  Instead you can besmirch your name yourself without abandon because you own the right to.

After all, protecting your interests is a good idea for anyone and just about anyone can purchase a domain name.  I purchased this one for way less than it would cost to sponsor a child in a third world country.  XXX domains cost much more than the plain old dot com kind but that kind of puts it all in perspective doesn't it?  I could buy up my pervy domain name for my own protection or I could buy a few bags of wheat and some canned goods.

It might be nice to spring for some xxx domain names for my friends and family for Christmas.  There is no use buying them any more useless appliances or trays of baked goods.  Gonna buy them a gift that keeps on giving.  Many names are still swinging around untaken. 

Doesn't everyone want their own adult domain?  Especially one in which you could cater to people just like you?

Some of my friends are into running marathons barefoot.  Imagine the possibilities of an xxx domain based on that.  Close up photos of bare naked feet on just warming blacktop early in the morning or pictorials of hot chicks running and sucking down that nasty glucose energy goo, running down the corners of their mouths and dripping on their irritated nipples.

Some of my friends are into secondhand shopping.  There are whole realms of fetishes we could delve into on  Refurbished furniture, collections of mismatched glassware, crafts for old jeans and wool sweaters.  Donated crutches and walkers...oh god yes!

A lot of my friends are geeky sorts with pasty skin. There simply aren't enough sites on the internets catering to that demographic.  I could think of hundreds of combinations of programming languages and body parts to add an xxx to.  Play hide and seek with your thumb drive.

My mother enjoys vacuuming.  She really enjoys vacuuming.  Here ya go mom -

My Dad is restoring a 1955 Buick Special Convertible - or

My sisters have all manner of hobbies and I think I could lump their domain together.  I'm sure there are some that would be interested in a group of sisters and their hobbies.  Groups of sisters bowling, or playing softball, or gardening or baking cookies together.

My husband is into poetry.  I dunno.  I'm unsure if anyone goes into the xxx realm looking for a nasty simile or prurient alliteration in iambic pentameter.  Sorry Justin.

Could buy a couple for myself to in some acceptable xxx vernacular.  It'll be a good investment.  Buy a bunch of housewife-y sounding domains and sell them later for moooolaahhhh.

My heart is turgid with Christmas spirit!!

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

I can't find my bedazzler and I need it desperately.

You think if I removed any constraining underwear and poked my tongue between my teeth I could get across the idea that it was foggy in my town today?

Honestly I've started writing about the fog that shows up here every winter around ten times.

Shows up in my head too.

Like wads of cotton in aspirin bottles.  Keeps anything worthwhile from shaking loose before you break a nail prying off the cap.

I'm creative in short nervous bursts.  I spent five days sewing a new bathmat for my master bathroom.  It's still not finished.  It needs a non-slip backing.  That detail is something I remember every time I step out of my shower.  There isn't a danger of falling and cracking my skull necessarily, I just might forget how to step out of my shower in the first place.  A non-slip backing may save me from myself.

Pin It

Lookit that...I added a Pinterest button to the post because I got my crafty recycling on.  What was previously stretched across the butts of my family has been made useful again on my bathroom floor.  Oooh.  Ahhh.

I'm also sewing strips of denim for another rug, squares of denim for a quilt, and there is a pile of old jeans in a cat chewed box waiting to be cut up into some sort of utility.  Then there is the series of drawings coming in licks and spits, which I'm long overdue in completing for a friend and at least four costumes under construction.

Then the blog with ten unpublished posts with only a very poorly constructed first line written...

...And Christmas.

This fog could last weeks or could be done tomorrow.  Both the weather and in my head.  It comes and goes.  It's always better in warm weather.

No matter how foggy it is tomorrow I'm going out to get some sunlight.

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