Saturday, December 11, 2010

Robot Owen Wilson is Freaking Me Out


One day I will forget what humans look like and just go around hugging mailboxes and shaking hands with trees all day. Doesn't sound too bad.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Ultra-petite daywear.

One of my remotest friends had himself a baby earlier this year, which, you know, finally. Babies are nice, because they don't mind if you make an irrational fuss over them. They don't give you the eyebrows (you know the ones). They feel they're worthy of your devotion. It must be a nice place to be! I've also heard that they vomit unexpectedly and can be cantankerous, but I think that happens behind closed doors, with mother, at 3am. I'm very inexperienced. More of a baby tourist, over here.

As such, I like to dress them up like little squishy dolls!


Green because she is sort of a redhead, as far as I can tell. Those buttons are like tiny sheriff badges. I die.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Quiet humour.

Yesterday I listened to this, which is a humorous essay on opera by Armando Ianucci. (Armando is a harmonized Scottish/Italian blend, which I think is nice!)

Armando! This horse cannot play clarinet AT ALL.

I am also reading The Best of Modern Humor by Mordecai Richler (1986). Both of these things are meant to be funny, and they are! But for the most part I have not been injuring my ribcage over them. There has been nose wrinkling, and I've had to re-read some passages; sometimes it seems like I'm the one being laughed at, for being generally knuckle-headed. Sometimes I make a face like I've just been handed a particularly lurid piece of birthday cake. Sort of a stifled grimace of amusement.

I get a strong sense that this kind of humour is maybe the most sophisticated writing there is, and maybe it is up to all of us to try to appreciate a little bit of it, lest our civilization's funny index be abandoned to the evil whims of John Travolta's hairpiece.

But it's not a chore, I swear! You will love not laughing at things.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Bread Thursdays are All for Loooooove

It is totally Bread Thursday. Does that need any explaining? NO.

These are rolls made with sourdough starter, which makes the dough nice and moist. Make a snake, tie a knot, tuck one end into the middle of the bread and the other end underneath. It is easy.

In fact, everything about making bread is shamefully easy, especially when you factor in that bourgeois classic wedding present, the Kitchenaid Mixer (insert angel choirs here). I am 4 serious Holmes, do not buy bread unless you are currently working three jobs and are just too busy. Or maybe you have a nice relative who makes all of the bread, I don't know. At least, do not buy it from the grocery store, that stuff is like, pudding with crumbs? And petrochemicals probably? Who knows.

These buns also have oregano in them, so your sandwich is extra faboo automatically. Here, I will take you INSIDE THE BREAD:

Terrifying.

What you do then is just stow it in those big freezer baggies, and remove from freezer as necessary for mid-afternoon carb-gorging. Preferably while watching 80s classics! OH LLOYD.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Najibullah Quraishi, can we be friends?

Dear Mr. Quraishi,

Here's the thing: I realize that for you it would be like being friends with a flatworm, but at the same time I would like to ask you some questions. For example, should I be supportive of the Canadian mission in Afghanistan right now? If yes, what should we be doing differently? Should I quit my job and just storm parliament already? What I'm hoping is that you will tell me what to think about the issue, whereupon I will feel more politically confident, and at the very least I will know what to ask for, despite our government's probable unwillingness to provide it. They seem to have their own very fixed ideas. But I'd still like to know.

It might seem like laziness on my part, but then don't you think it would be presumptuous of me to make up my own mind, given my cushy situation? Google Maps cannot even give me directions to Kandahar from here. So you see Naji (is it okay to call you that? I hope so), I'm just looking for some expertise. With your excellent moral compass and range of experience in the field, you're really the most qualified person I can think of. In return, I am knitting you a jumper. What size are you? Do you object to having "JUST A SUPER GUY" emblazoned across the front? I could also go with "FEAR ME, JERKS." Your call.

Sincerely,
Emily.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Gingerino

My brother was ten when we went to Italy, and he remembers nothing of the experience - except the gingerino. Those suckers have old fashioned bottle caps, not twist-off tops, so once you open them you either have to drink it or pour it on the pavement. One relative gave the three of us two bottles each, setting them in a row and then attacking them, overzealous-bartender-style, snapping the little lids off before our startled eyes. And the thing is, the only flavour you could discern in those things, if you could call it flavour at that high concentration, was ginger. As advertised! I would not describe it as a sophisticated taste experience. You may as well drink your mother's vanilla extract from out of the baking cupboard. It goes down your tongue like a bowling ball covered in tacks.

The website suggests some fun-type mixes. To which I say NO. Do not sully the pineapple juice and vodka with this crap. It is like cough syrup without the numbing and possibly harmful drugs. I do not understand you, gingerino, but there are lots of other Italian things I don't understand too, so maybe it is related.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

He knew he was right (and also a bit of a jackass)


Anthony Trollope makes fun of himself, his readers, his characters, his book, literature in general, and the world. Andrew Davies completely fails to televise it, but can you blame him really?

Monday, February 15, 2010

Nielyo

The LIVE BAND in STRIPED SHIRTS with HORNS at the Richmond Ohhhhlympick Oval just played 'Sweet Caroline' and everyone in the house sang along, it was magic.

If you are interested in coverage sans Brian Williams, sometimes it is available, like right now for instance over here.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Who's responsible for airline safety?

Not this guy, he's way too busy drizzling himself with butter under an industrial heat lamp.

Cheap joke!

But seriously, this is just freaking me out.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Extreme ladydom



Argh, Casey from Ninja Turtles!
Okay, for the record, strippers.

Things that everybody knows:

- Strip bars are way less interesting in real life.

- Strip-choreography is not generally as creative or interesting as one would like.

- Strippers' bodies are largely plastic, surreal caricatures of womanhood. This makes the experience of seeing them naked equally plastic and surreal. Last week I was in a public washroom when a woman decided to pee with the door wide open, and it sent me running down the hallway of the professional building. Running. Whereas the strippers are just kind of there, you know?

- It's a living, even though most people's moms don't want them doing that.

- It is cruel to refer to an actor who is just doing his job as 'Casey from Ninja Turtles'.

- Stripping is probably forever, barring some nuclear incident, and even then you could take your clothes off for cash in a fall-out shelter, although what you would then spend the cash on I don't know. Maybe you could create some sort of ultra-primitive economy where everyone is simultaneously a stripper and a voyeur, and you all just run around in the shelter shoving money in each others' underwear.

- Don McKellar and Sarah Polley directed by Atom Egoyan in CANADIAN FILM ABOUT LIFE COMPLICATED.

Look into his big pretty eyes, he is having feeelings.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Whoopsum Leap

By accident today my computer thinks it is American and I suddenly get aaaaall the TV.

Shhhh.


It could disappear at any moment, so I am quickly absorbing much Quantum Leap. They must have really wanted that sucker to get pickup, because the Bakula spends 3/4 of the first episode with no shirt on, looking quite Harrison-Ford-y, actually, although with roughly 6x the eyebrows.

UPDATE, 4pm:


I am sure no good will come of this.

Friday, January 08, 2010

The Edible Woman s13e73

This morning my tea smiled up at me with five thousand tiny, shiny bubble eyes. "Charming," you might say. I let it go cold and then tipped it in the sink (after grabbing the appropriate evidence, as you see).

That book is just totally self-indulgent, isn't it? I'm sure that's why I like it. BARF.