Do As I Say




Never EVER as I do.

To Go With My Race Car Bed

I bathe in a bathboat. Do you bathe in a bathboat?

Old Superheroes Never Die

They just get...really...not...good.

God Warrior



No relation to The Ultimate Warrior (I checked). But just as sane.

Capital Laptop Machine!

Good news - I've finally found (a working) laptop that's old-timey / steampunk enough for a future-past antiquarian such as myself. Good day to you Starbucks, warm beverage emporium.

And... if anyone so much as looks sideways at me for taking up one of the cafetorium tableariums while I hack the complimentary intermatrix transmission, I'll put down my coffeeweed toddy and give them a swift but sound thumping.

And that's what's what.

Jolly Jingles

Well now, this sho' is apropos of something. An associate of an associate recently unearthed this little gem at an estate sale:

Published in 1907, it's not quite as 'Beatrix Potter' as the cover suggests:

The image above is a bit hard to read. So get the kids and gather round:

We're two jolly little coons,
You cannot find our match.
We're just as sweet as sugar plums,
We never bite or scratch.
We play together all day long,
From care and trouble free.
Our life is just a pleasant song ---
Two little coons are we.

Final Thoughts On Easy Targets

Sure, dropping the N (cluster) bomb was awkward. But the rest of the performance killed. Has anyone bothered to post his bit on Ovaltine? Where does he get this stuff? Michael: we shall overcome.

Self Portrait With Crayons

Admittedly more interesting than most crayon self-portraiture I've come across. Could this be the new pointillism? ASCII art? Lite-Brite?

Edu-sturbing Docu-sationalism



To be fair, I DID warn you yesterday. I mean, it would have been cruel not to warn you. Funnier but cruel.

Okay, One Last Cheap Laugh...



I'm no fan of Ferguson but some of these are pretty well done. Besides, it's late. And I'm tired. And when you see what's coming next you may very well long for a bland and inoffensive copout like this.

'Tis The Season Shot



With both American Thanksgiving and Chirstmas fast approaching, I thought I'd offer up a DIY alternative to the butchernistas strangehold on the holidays. We all know how personally gratifying it is to eat what you've killed (from a distance). But picking buckshot out of the carcass can be annoying and time-consuming for any hick's wife.

This year, load up with Season Shot, Ammo With Flavor:

"The seasoning is actually injected into the bird on impact seasoning the meat from the inside out. When the bird is cooked the seasoning pellets melt into the meat spreading the flavor to the entire bird."

As inventor and founder of Season Shot Brett Holm says, "No glop. No dentist. Hello world! Let’s eat!" I know what I'm thankful for.

Next up: is there a faster way to spread Christmas cheer?

Stop Making Sense(ory Deprivation Tanks)

What? That's a terrible title. Seriously though, fairly warned be thee; they're full of weirdness and bad news.

In the interest of science, carpe diem and alleviating guilt by finding a solution to our long-standing paradox of doing something while doing nothing, Brock and I decided to increase our theta brainwave output by exploring the exciting domain of flotation-entertainment.

One hour of complete sensory deprivation in a small egg-shaped pod. Just you and your breathing, naked and floating freely with the help of over 2000 cups of Epsom salts.

This kind of claustrophobic solitude sounds like a great idea. But the potential for bad vibes and freakouts can quickly outweigh the weightlessness.

To wit: Brock later admitted to experiencing nightmarish scenarios involving Bobby McFerrin and her grandmother.

I was overtaken by a messianic complex (not unusual in Quebec). I thrashed about for twenty-some minutes, my eyes burning with corrosive salts, screaming in Latin. I was then politely removed and restrained by four hippie attendants who, despite my demands of allegiance, calmly insisted that I was not their Pod Godling.

The good news – today, I’m back on my game and my skin looks five years younger.

Know Your Homosexuals



Feel like taking a ride in the shadow of death? Be honest.

Goodbye Dumsfeld: We Hardly Liked Ye

Fiiiinally. Rummy, shown here attempting to hypnotize the press corps into making out with each other, is resigning. Hold the applause - there's a fish in a barrel I want to shoot.

Who could forget your steadfast optimism about Iraq:

"Which view of Iraq is more accurate?" The pessimistic view of the so-called elites in our country or the more optimistic view of millions of Iraqis and some 155,000 U.S. troops on the ground?"
(December 2005, washingtonpost.com)

Except maybe you:

""I have never painted a rosy picture. I've been very measured in my words, and you'd have a dickens of a time trying to find instances where I've been excessively optimistic."
(August 2006, guardian.co.uk)

To be fair, the former quote was a dickens of an open-ended question.

Missing him already? Fear not. DumDum will still be around as a honourary member of The Avengers.

Meet AMNESIATOR - able to induce Memory Distrust Syndrome with a single spin. His one weakness: the internet.

He-Man Would Like To Talk To You About Your Body.



Methinks Orco doth protest too much. Next up: GoBots on cold sores.

Things Piled On Other Things That Become Completely Different Things



Is it just a bunch of household crap thrown together to make an ungainly bookshelf? Philistine. Of course not. It's a bunch of BURNT household crap thrown together to make an ungainly bookshelf. It's in the same price range as a Hyundai and is a shrewd commentary on object beauty and intrinsic worth. As if that weren't value enough, it also reflects the violence of our times and has a horn that can hold a fern.

It's called "Hey Chair Be A Bookshelf" and is produced by Dutch designer Maarten Baas as part of his Smoke series of burnt furniture.

So fuck you and your highly functional non or non-professionally burnt Billy bookcase. You're out and I'm in.

Weekend = Lazypost ©

Look gang - Gmail is now available to work as poorly on your mobile phone as it does on your computer.

Speaking of Google's lacklustre products - remember Blogger guys? Think you might consider, y'know, fixing it one day so that it, y'know, does what it should do? Y'know, work?

This past week shore ain't been easy, what with being locked in constant struggle with the Bloggerbeast. But is it fair to blame the sporadicience of my postaritude on Blogger's inablogability? You bet it is. Fucks a lot Googs.

But on with the show. Been meaning to post this for a while. Thom Yorke performing an acoustic version of "Analyse" at the 2006 Mercury Prize award show. The pre-vocal death stare and post-song smiley face make this performance rank a solid 7.5 out of 10. That's pretty Yorkey.

Putting Things In Other Things

For as long as people have been putting clocks in things, so too have they worked tirelessly to put radios in things as well. Not surprisingly it was widely theorized that the clock radio would be the nadir of thing-in-other-thing innovation.

It wasn't.

Today, scientists are able to put things in other things previously thought to be "stand alones". This is helping to change the way we enjoy fake fireplaces. For the better.

1. Music Fireplace. Features built-in speakers and an adjustable sub-woofer for use with any MP3 or portable CD player. Pop in a "Sounds of the Fireplace" CD and see if anyone can tell the difference between you and someone who can afford a real fireplace.

2. Wine Cooler Fireplace. Finally - a unit both beautiful and practical enough to properly chill (and showcase) the L'Entre-Cote. Hello ladies.