Category Archives: Random crap

Some people say that drinking from a slipper is a great honor. They probably weren’t drinking Mountain Dew out of an Ugg though.

Whenever I don’t have enough cup holders in my car I just take off a shoe and stick a drink in the ankle hole because a shoe makes a surprisingly stable extra cup holder.  Except, that is, for when the cup apparently has a slow leak in it and then you end up walking into the house with several drinks and a dripping shoe full of Mountain Dew, and your husband is all, “What happened to your shoe?” and you’re like, “YOUR DRINK LEAKED IN IT” and then he gets all crappy because “WHY ARE YOU BLAMING ME?  WHY WAS IT MY DRINK?” and you explain that you certainly wouldn’t put your own drink inside a shoe so obviously it’s his and then he gets pissed because he suddenly realizes that all of his take-out drinks have been carried about in shoes.  But technically his drinks are insulated by my shoes and so they stay cold longer.  If anything, he should be thanking me.

And apologizing for leaking in my shoes.

And getting me some more cup holders.

The man needs to prioritize, for God’s sake.

Cats never get insomnia, the furry bastards.

An open letter to cats:

A series of pictures of Hunter S. Thomcat:


Meanwhile, I tossed and turned for three hours last night before finally falling into a light sleep that lasted for the almost ten seconds it took you to “inadvertently”  walk on my face enough to wake me back up completely.

This is exactly why people hate you guys.  Because you rub it in.  Well, it’s probably not the only reason, but it certainly can’t help.  Please at least pretend to be bleary and miserable every once in awhile.  Or share your hidden stash of sleeping pills.  Whichever.  We’re flexible.

Hugs,

Everyone in the whole world

I’d kill everyone just out of spite, but I’m possibly too old and might break a hip.

Conversation with the guy at the video game store:

Clerk: Can I help you find something?

me:  I’m looking for a new game.  Something where you explore and solve puzzles but you don’t have to shoot anyone.  Something like Myst, maybe?

Clerk:  I’m not familiar with it.

me: Really?  Myst?  It was a super-big-deal video game.  It came out in the mid-90’s, I guess?

Clerk:  Oh.  Yeah, I wasn’t born then.

me:  Ah.  And now I understand why they say video games make people violent.

**********

And in other news, it’s Sunday, which means its time for the weekly wrap-up:

What you missed in my shop (Named “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

What you missed on the internets:

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you  by the fabulous woman who invented JustGoGirl,  a low profile pad for women with athletic leaks that occur when you run or jump.  Millions have this issue but it hasn’t received a lot of attention because women aren’t comfortable talking about it. It’s light, comfortable and invisible in tight workout clothes.  It’s also good to wear when you’re laughing so hard that you pee.  Just saying.

I’LL HELP YOU.

Hunter S. Thomcat has the unique ability to see things on tv screens.  This means that when I watch Doctor Who, he watches it with me (which is nice), but it also means that he’s constantly leaping onto the screen whenever David Tennant makes a particularly quick move.  Not that I blame him.

The problem, however, comes about when I’m typing, scrolling down on my computer, or watching something on youtube.  Then he attacks the monitor (accompanied by mewling and banging that’s so loud that Victor assumes an angry neighbor is at the door again).  This will go on for hours if I let it.

For the sake of example, this is what happens when I pull up a screensaver that looks like a pug is licking your computer screen clean.

imageedit_3_9295151453

(If I’ve done this right it should be a short gif.  If not, please just pretend it is.)

Honestly, I don’t know whether Hunter is trying to play with him, rescue him, or murder him.  Regardless, it’s adorable.  And almost impossible to work around.

And this is why I need an office with actual doors.

Not a real post, but still quite important.

As you might know, I have a talent for crashing websites (particularly mine) and it always ends with me eventually screaming “IT’S NOTHING HARD LIQUOR AND A HAMMER WON’T FIX” and Victor hiding the mallets while he curses and struggles to fix whatever I’ve done.  I’ve been told that WordPress server/sites/whatever are almost unbreakable and so we’re going to put that to the test.  It may take a few days for your personal ISP to switch over to the new site (which is the same address as the old site but is located in a different place and I have a headache just explaining that) so if you don’t see a new post by next week that means you might need to tell your internet provider to refresh their DNS settings.  I’ll have a new post up on Thursday and you should be able to see it if everything switches over quickly like it should for most of you.  Until then, please go and read yesterday’s post about the best taxidermy finds of my entire life.

Also, hat-tip to the multiple brilliant readers who realized exactly what that strange, unidentified taxidermied creature was that I brought home:

PS.  Scrot is short for Scrotum.  He also goes by Phteven.  I may have spelled that wrong.

PPS.  Giant thanks to Pete, Nate and Nick at WordPress.com VIP, who’ve worked very hard with an extremely grumpy Victor to make this switch.  They assure us that if we still manage to break the site it’ll be free ponies for everyone.

PPPS.  You won’t be able to leave a comment until your DNS picks up the new location.  The blog will be in maintenance mode for a little while during the switch.  It’ll say “Comments are closed” on this post until your ISP updates to the new location.  Once you can leave comments again on this post then that means you’ve made it back home.

Be careful out there, you guys.

We’ll see you on the other side.

Horrible, wonderful taxidermy. Someone up there likes me. And hates Victor.

I don’t even know where to start with this, so I’m skipping right to: “OMG, YOU GUYS, I HAVE FOUND HEAVEN AND IT’S ONLY SLIGHTLY MORE CORPSEY THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT.”

Long story short, this weekend we went to a tiny town near us to go to resale stores because we’re strange people who like weird, used things.  As you might know, I have a particular penchant for badly done, super-old taxidermy that makes me laugh and makes people who have to visit my house very uncomfortable.  By late afternoon we came across a large odd store filled with so much weird, half-price shit that it was like coming home.  In fact, I fell so in love with one section of the store that the guy in charge told me I could come and bring my laptop, get into bed and write there after they were closed if I needed quiet time.  It was so awesome I suspect it’s some sort of set-up to arrest me for arson I haven’t yet achieved.

Taxidermy, old books, an unmade bed. These are a few of my favorite things.

Regardless, I have to share a pictorial essay about the amazingness you can only come across in Texas.

Just a fraction of the frightening, vintage taxidermy we saw when we first walked in. Victor and I were both like, "WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS?" but I suspect we were saying it for different reasons.

Every corner had something amazing to behold:

Do you know what a lion looks like when it's horking up a hairball? Well, you do now. I don't know what that thing is on it's back. I thought it was a dog but it might have been a small bear or a preemie sasquatch.

Most people just throw away their fish heads, but apparently early crafters realized that if you nail them to a plank they look just like Christmas carolers hitting a high note. I suspect this is going to be the newest DIY thing on Pinterest.

This was actually from the shop next door but it still seems to fit here:

Of course, I couldn’t buy them all, so I settled on my three favorite friends.

I don't know what this is, but I love it. The pine-cone fell off when I got home...

…so I replaced it with a tiny mug, except now that I look at it, it sort of looks like he's relieving himself in it because he really, really needs to pee, or was interrupted when giving a sperm sample. Regardless, I think we can all relate.

Ferris Mewler was impressed.  Or hungry.

I also got a…weasel?  I don’t have a name yet, but she’s very well dressed because I have insomnia:

She wears a fez now. Fezzes are cool.

She also has excellent taste in books. It's pretty obvious she's classy as shit.

And my personal favorite…possibly the derpiest taxidermy animal in the history of ever.  I cannot walk past her and not laugh my ass off and that makes her the best investment ever.  That’s why I own taxidermied animals instead of a 401k.

There is not an angle that she looks bad in.  She is the gift that keeps on giving.  She needs a name.  Feel free to give suggestions.