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Archive for November, 2012

Mitchell may predict doom and strife over remodeling but this is going well.

Downstairs the ceiling was due to fail.  It got some attention.

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Upstairs (our new room) the walls and ceiling needed to go so we could put in insulation behind the lath and plaster – and that cheap shitty particleboard they put over the top of it.  It’s awful stuff.

Spaced Diode is going to come over Saturday and let me do all the work but he’ll tell me what to hook up to what in order to have my house not burn down.  Yes, it looks like a scene from HellRaiser.  We’ll put a few switches in on another circuit, drop a junction box, and destroy as much as we can get our hands on.

Here is Melody Song, lookin bigger badder and rougher than ever before – 2-1/2 lbs of pure ass-kicking dynamite. Yes, she steals from the bigger cats (15lbs and 14lbs) while they are eating.  She knows she’s got them cowed.   My nickname for Melody is is LBB (Little Black Bitch).

Ferrofluid, which I saw up close and personal and am going to make when I am able…

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Where in the hell is Lemur King?

Busy.  Work has been busy but it is my turn in the barrel for home improvement time.

No, I have not had my testicles gnawed off by rabid weasels.  I have not undergone dramatic reassignment surgery to become Lemura Queen.  I have not been abducted and probed by aliens.  I am not starring in any movies that utilize inflatable sheep.  (thanks to CW for correcting the “gnawed off” omission of the word “not“).

Home remodeling on top of stressful work days plus two kids… I just don’t have the brainpower.

I do have some pics to post tomorrow night – foods, remodel stuff, cat updates.  All the usual shi… I mean… stuff.

Until tomorrow night…

Addendum:  It should be said that while I am at work, CW is doing a huge amount of the heavy lifting on the home remodel – moving stuff to/from rooms, cutting through lath/plaster the hard way (read: w/o a recip saw), moving stuff out to the yard and driveway, vacuuming, etc.  HUGE amount of stuff.

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Crypto-Taxidermy

Merry Thanksgiving.

[Insert_Usual_Tidings_Here]

We’re having beef and turkey tamales.  From scratch.  Lard, masa, meat, corn husks, and hot steam.  The real way.

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I don’t know where Cruel Wife found this and I’m not about to ask.  Crypto-Taxidermists are bizarre folk and I don’t want to know if she knows ’em.

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Artificial eye lenses, but not the way we’ve done them for years.

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Stopping projectiles is a holy grail of sorts.

Not that shaped charges care much when it comes to larger rounds but when it comes to small-arms stuff this is pretty cool from the personal protection standpoint – and making it lighter weight is a bonus if you are on the move.

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Remember, your life could be far stranger than it is now.

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Ex-teacher says school officials told her to ‘train’ her breasts to not make milk at work.  This makes as much sense as telling Johnny to train his testes to lay off the sperm while going all the way with Suzie in the back of his GTO parked up by the lake after a few bottles of enhanced wine coolers.

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Good Grief #379

Today was flu shot day for the kids.

They both have kind of an issue about getting shots so I called upon Daddy Prophylactic Maneuver #379, the threat of Dire Consequences should any bullsh*t be shoveled in the doctor’s office.  Driving down the road I used that captive audience forum so favored by fathers everywhere.

Kids, listen up… If I hear even one little bit of hassle in the doctor’s office when it comes time for your flu shot, I will immediately negate any and all chore money you have stored up over the last week.  I will flat-out take it away and there will be zero chance to earn it back.  The brief sting of a shot is far far easier than a full bout of the flu.  Even if you don’t mind getting the flu, your mom and I aren’t interested in the notion of taking care of you for a week for something that can be prevented.

So.

We got into the doctor’s office and Hacker Boy was a compliant and helpful boy and even relaxed perfectly.  Didn’t even grimace over it.

Lemurita on the other hand, dove for the corner of the room saying “I don’t want your shot.  You can’t make me.  I won’t do it.”

I took the stern tack again. “Lemurita, you are going to get this shot.  It is for your own good.  Hacker Boy didn’t feel a thing.  It’s not that bad.  You’re still going to get it.  Fight this and you will lose your $6.00 chore money and you will still get that shot.  We can do this the hard way or we can do this the easy way, it is going to happen either way, so the amount of pain and suffering is up to you.”

She agreed to come over and sit on my lap but then changed her mind immediately after sitting down.  Instantly I had my arms around her to prevent her gazelle-like flight.

Then it got pretty awful bad.

“NO, I DON’T WANT THAT SHOT!  LET ME GO, NOW!  I WILL NOT HAVE THAT SHOT.  YOU CANNOT MAKE ME!”

And punctuating her every word was violent thrashing and whipping of her head.  The nurse left for a bit for us to get her calmed down and her arm shirt-free.  We had to forcibly get her arm out of her shirt.  By now, I had each of her wrists, right wrist in my left hand, left wrist in my right hand, both legs around her, and my head was up against the back of her neck so she could not pop my teeth or nose with the head-whips.

I said reasonably quietly and calmly, “You already lost your $6.00 but you’re still getting this shot.”

She started bucking even harder – full-body undulations.  The force of her movements moved me and the chair.

At the top of her lungs she was screaming:  “NO YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO THIS!  OW, YOU BROKE MY ARM!  YOU’RE HURTING ME!  YOU LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!  I’M NOT GETTING THIS SHOT AND YOU BROKE MY ARM LET ME GO I WON’T DO IT OW!!!”

“Relax or the shot will actually hurt, and yes, you are still getting it.  No your arm isn’t broken.  Now just relax.”  I manacled her wrists and pulled her arms tight against her sides to minimize the flailing.

In went the needle with a quick jab.

Shot done.

Bit more kicking and screaming and hollering went on and then stopped as she realized that struggling after the shot just seemed silly.

We walked out to the car.  I told her that I wasn’t embarrassed by her behavior but that she probably should be.

“I don’t care,” she said.

“Okay.  I’m okay with that.”

We rode home in utter silence.  Not a word was spoken.  I had traction control turned off

As we pulled into the driveway she said

And Dad, I don’t feel any grief about the $6.00.

There is no doubt that it was the equivalent of a sneer and two extended middle fingers.

I laughed so hard I think I pissed her off a bit.

Cruel Wife looked at me and said “If you had even a tiny bit of doubt that she’s your daughter, it should no longer exist.  She is your girl.”

Apparently that is a classic trait of my personality, to tell someone to f*ck right off even if it destroys me in the process of doing it.  One time I was fired and re-hired in the space of ten minutes.  I was in the right but my handling of it could have been better.

I’m so proud of Lemurita’s wording when she’s pissed off.  She is going to be such a force to be reckoned with.

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Riots ensued.

My daughter Lemurita went to a birthday party of a boy – a critter with XY chromosome pairing, who is by definition my sworn enemy.

She said it was a riot.
“Wait! Riots are a blast!”

“It was not a riot-riot, just a bunch of kids fighting over…”

“No, riots are fun – the thrown glass the pitched bricks, the burning cars and broken windows, the burning tires… and if one is really lucky, flipped cars.  And then the police coming in to beat heads and knock skulls.  Man is a good riot where it is at.”

“I suppose you’ll tell me that you and your little friend who is a boy (and whom I must treat as an enemy regardless of how nice he seems) are fast friends and that he is a wonderful boy.  Well, that may even be true, but he is the enemy.   Men in my family have been making hell the lives of young men chasing after the women in our family a living hell.   How long util we stop doing so?  Until there is no doubt that we are all cray enough to wipe him out and put the body where no one would ever find him.

We do it out of love.

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The Lazy Post.

I stopped at 12 hours (work).  I was fried by 8 but needed to do more.

And accomplished nothing of value in spite of all my efforts.  Damn.

So this is a lazy post mostly to let you know that I’m still alive and have not stepped in front of a bus.

Wildlife – a cougar in a tree.  (h/t to my dad’s friend Loose Screw)

Those Nat’l Geo photographers really know their stuff.

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Last night I was trying to talk to the family and realized that although we were all in the same room we were none of us in the same room.  After I realized I was being totally ignored I started saying all manner of things to see if there was anyone out there, using the Elaine Method from Seinfeld.

  • NASA called… I’m going to the moon.
  • I am moving out of the house and going to live in sin with the dog three blocks over.
  • Tomorrow I’m getting a turkey surgically grafted to my elbow.
  • Geez, did you see the size of the elephant that just stomped on the cat?
  • (dryly and calmly) Oh look guys!  We’re being attacked by rabid skunks.  Hold on to your butt.

I can see Hacker Boy spacing me out but Cruel Wife and Lemurita totally missing out on that was a low blow.

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At work I found a giant permanent marker, about 1-1/2″ in diameter.  Stinks to high heaven and you know it has been uncapped even if you are 30 feet away.  I’ve taken to walking around with the cap cracked and pretending to sniff really deeply, remarking “Damn, was that ever a good week in markers.”

I even left it on the conference room table by my office with a note “Please try out our new line of fragranced markers.  First whiff is free.”

Last week was a granola bar on the table with a note that said “Help Washington and Colorado – we’re sending munchie boxes soon, please add snacks – they will need them.”  Not everyone got that one.

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We met with Spaced Diode over coffee this morning and he and Lemurita played a game of chess while we ate onion rings and got really amped on caffeine.  I admit to stealing onion rings from my family.  I’m in the wrong there.  I suck.

As we left the coffee shop we ran into people from the stuffed teddy bear factory on the corner who were dressed in full teddy bear suits.

Kids.  Do NOT feed the bears.  Don’t run from them and don’t tease them… Do NOT look them in the eyes!  It’s a sign of aggression!  Don’t look at them!   – Lemur King to his children upon coming across two adults in giant teddy bear outfits

Yes.  I really said that.  No, I don’t know what the people thought.  I didn’t stick around because adults in giant animal suits kind of creep me out.  That sort of thing should remain in the bedroom between consenting adults.

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Ran across a blog I’d seen for the first time quite a while back.  The section I enjoyed the most was “Steve!  Don’t Eat It!”  I threw the quote up at Nazi Surf Kittens Must Die because it hasn’t been touched in months.

In general I’m looking for things that are apolitical.  I’m sick of politicians.

The only thing weirder than me drinking breast milk, is the fact that milk is coming out of my wife’s chest in the first place. It sure as hell didn’t do that when I met her.  I’m telling you, the whole thing is lunacy.  I love my wife, but does she really have to be such a mammal?   – Steve, at “Steve!  Don’t Eat It!

I have to say, that’s comedy gold, especially if you have experienced the situation yourself.

If you feel inclined to answer what is normally an admittedly socially inappropriate question, how many female mammals who read this blog have… uh… previously lactated and tasted what was on tap yourselves?

I expect zero (0) answers to that question, but dammit, I’m curious. 

Also, I just realized today that NSKMD is over two years old.  Two years since the starting of that thing.  I remember with crystal clarity discussing the idea with taobmaetS ooGcM, as if it was yesterday.  He said something that I can’t quote exactly and I am unclear on what I said in return but it was all pretty profound.  He fired it up anyway because hey, blogs are cheap.

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For Halloween I read Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” to Lemurita with the promise of some HP Lovecraft when I can find a good story to get her started in the genre.  Last night during dinner Lemurita made me so proud… she said “Dad, can we read some Shakespeare sometime?”

My jaw hit the table.  The greatest wordsmith in the histoory f humankind – the Chopin of the literature world – and my daughter wants to read at least some of his works with me.  She isn’t even ten yet.
I tried my damnedest to recite from Hamlet from memory – failing, however devoutly to be wish’d that I could do otherwise – but she got the idea.  Cruel Wife doesn’t personally enjoy his complicated thought structure but she was supportive.  I find this particularly amusing because within the last two weeks I tried to get CW interested in watching a modern adaptation of The Tempest with me.

No, it is not a great adaptation but I liked the Mirren version of Prospero (Prospera) and I thought Ariel was creepy-fantastic.  It wasn’t awesome but it wasn’t awful, either.  It just was.

CW opined that Lemurita might first enjoy “Much Ado About Nothing” on video first, then move into the written form.  I think that’s a fair compromise.  I did read to her a portion of MacBeth for grins and giggles because I thought she’d enjoy the imagery from the witches’ brew and their troublemaking.

And she did enjoy the imagery.  Grossed her out with the “finger of birth-strangled babe” part though.

I cannot wait until she’s old enough to read Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo

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We watched Paul last night (Simon Pegg and Nick Frost).  It is not as good as Shaun of the Dead but it isn’t bad, either.  Paul, the beer-drinking weed-smoking alien was pretty good CG.

Paul: This is America. Kidnapping a Christian is worse than harboring a fugitive.

Heh.  Paul fell shy of encompassing a hat-tip to Redneck Rampage but it didn’t do horribly, either.  It could have used a Vixen and some Moon Pies but I don’t expect Pegg to be particularly knowledgeable about Moon Pies.

Graeme Willy: You are an alien!
Paul: To you I am, yes.
Graeme Willy: Are you gonna probe us?
Paul: *Why* does everyone always assume that? What am I doing? Am I harvesting farts? How much can I learn from an ass?

Anyone out there know how probing came to be associated with aliens?  I mean, who decided to “go there” with that idea in the first place?  Of course… it really is proof that aliens are real, isn’t it?  Obviously no normal person would just make the probing stuff up, right?

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Apparently some people in Chicago don’t understand that a “Job Fair” isn’t where they hire you, it is where people sniff butts and network – job seekers meet employers, blunt character assassinations take place, oppression and exploitation of the downtrodden, etc.  At least those were the only behaviors at all the job fairs I ever went to.  I never saw a job application at a job fair.

Rodney Booker said, “I stood in line for four hours. They better give me a Wal-Mart gift card, or something.”

Rodney, you just provided a potential clue as to why you might be out of work right now.  A large number of people are looking for gainful employment and many of them are smart and capable people but there is also a percentage like yourself that might – just might – be looking because… you’re an idiot.

“… better give me a Wal-Mart gift card…” –

Seriously, is this something you believe?

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