Another link because I can't be arsed to get all introspective and write about my life. Sarah Haskins, my imaginary online BFF, talks about chick flicks.




COLIN FIRTH
COLIN FIRTH
COLIN FIRTH
COLIN FIRTH
COLIN FIRTH
COLIN FIRTH

Looking for a free tattoo? Sure, who wouldn't be! Then may I suggest this self-proclaimed "rising artist" in the Spring Hill, FL area, Mr. Meth0d himself? He's been doing art stuff for some time and really hopes to get better! Don't worry, he's done 2 tattoos already, so he is skilled enough to "not hurt or scar you". And you only have to pay for your own needles and drive him to a place where they can tattoo your free 4" x 4" masterpiece! Such a deal! I highly recommend you click on the link he provides to his Deviant Art account. His magnificent colored pencil drawings of fighting dragon sure inspire you with massive confidence in his tatting skills. I'm off to book my appointment!

One of the little mean things I enjoy (besides watching circus animals run amok), is video or audio of public marriage proposals gone wrong. My God, it's glorious! It's just such a perfect storm of assumption and poor planning, I can't look away. It seems to me that if you're the guy proposing, you'd want to, you know, a) discuss marriage with your prospective spouse and b) suss out their feelings regarding public proposals so you don't get a nasty surprise in front fo a bunch of strangers. People go "awwww" but I don't feel bad at all for these presumptuous dudes who put their girlfriends on the spot where, if they don't want to look cruel, they have to say yes, at least publicly. Oh, but so many women say no, right away! My favorite by far is the FAIL proposal that ends with Keyboard Cat. Friggin' sweet, you toerag.

Here's today's does of cute: the website Capybara Madness, at gianthamster.com. It's written by a woman in Texas who has a pet capybara, and it's written from his point of view. Capybaras are one of the best animals ever. Why? They're friggin' 100 pound rodents, for one thing. For another, they are the most droll, disapproving-looking rodents, resembling a caricature more than a real thing. Enjoy!

Also, the most terrifying footstools ever.

The ad claims they're perfect for a child's room. Yeah, perfect if you want to creep them the hell out, or if your child is Ed Gein. You can even use THEIR OWN leggings to outfit the ghoulish things! Best parents EVAR!

Happy Birthday, Jesus! Hope you like crap!

Huh, only 12 bucks a piece? What a steal for such foin, heirloom-quality ornaments.

And the award for Worst Idea for a Pet goes to.....Awesome Snapping Turtle! According to the ad, he "eats awesome", though I can't imagine what exactly that means. This is such a terrible idea. It's not like keeping a pet that could MAYBE hurt you, like a dog that gets crabby and nips, or a boa that gets chokey on an odd day, the animal is called a friggin' snapping turtle! Snapping is what it does, and when this thing gets to be full grown (it's a relatively cute 6.5 inches long right now), it will take your goddamn hand off. Oh well, I'm ok with someone dumb enough to keep one of these losing a finger or a hand, I guess. Dammit, people, not everything should be a pet!

Oh shit, guys! Hurry up! It's an inflatable green furry thing! It looks comfy, and it can be enjoyed by your ethnically diverse circle of friends one by one!

One nice thing about living on a budget is that it has stripped away much of my desire for things. Not all, mind you, I'm still a somewhat acquisitive little monkey who is taken in by the odd shiny thing, as my rock and wee succulent collection can attest. But I can enjoy browsing in most stores without feeling overcome with the need to own quite so much crap.

I've always been like that to a degree, actually. When I first came home from Japan I treated myself to some nice dishware (funnily enough, purchased from the shop where I now work): a beautiful sake set with multi-colored cups and my favorite teapot with 3 cups. I spent well over $150 bucks and it took some convincing from my mom (she of the "you may as well enjoy your money while you have it!" school) to splurge. That was one of the last big "silly" purchases I remember making, but I don't regret it. I love the tea set and, once we have a good place to display it, the sake set will look lovely, even if it's used for beverages other than sake. Is it acceptable to quaff plum wine from such cups?

The point being, I was never much of a shopaholic, except perhaps when it came to Japanese stationery stores where, in an afternoon out with Ursula I could easily drop nearly 1500 or 2000 yen (round about 15 to 20ish bucks) on assorted fine tipped pens and adorable paper and sticker sets. The on to the 100 yen store where another 200 or 300 yen would go to buy a tiny cactus or some amusingly flavored chips. Madness! But I go out and see what people buy, or I ring up people's purchases at my shop, and I just don't see much of a point in 99% of it. Frankly, it depresses me to see people staggering under their bulging shopping bags at the mall.

Working in my little shop is actually a good way to NOT buy things (except stones, natch!) because I get to spend all day looking at and handling beautiful things as though they were already in my living room. When someone buys something I particularly like, I get to enjoy the purchase vicariously, even more so when it's a regular customer I like.

I just thank God there are no Japanese stationery stores around here or I'd be in trouble for sure.

Sarah Haskins does a series called Target Women, which shows the ridiculous marketing that's, well, targeted at women. Her latest: Lady Friends.



Man, she makes me laugh. I especially like the ending tagline: "Friends. What would we buy without them?" I recommend all the Target Women bits. Marketing is so deeply ridiculous, it's laughable and sad all at once.

-Yesterday Paul Reubens (Pee-Wee Herman) came into my store and I helped him pick out a gift: a breathtaking clear quartz crystal cluster. Regular readers may recall that when I worked at MAC, I helped him pick out some blotting papers. At neither time did I get all fangirl gushy or mention that I dressed up as his alter ego for Halloween because I am, you see, a professional. He is terribly soft spoken in person and very polite an unassuming, and I appreciated the fact that he asked if he could use his cell phone in the store.

-While making cut rate liquid latex scars, I have accidentally found a way to make rubber vomit. So if anyone here needs some fake puke, just hit me up. You want carrots? Gummie bears? Corn? I'll add it! 'Cause I'm classy! Probably I'll just make a few hilarious puddles for my own amusement (and possibly my mom's).

-Today's winner of the Finding Your Niche Award goes to Scary Woman, from craigslist. When I saw the title, I thought it was a movie casting for someone to play a scary woman. But no, it's a woman who apparently is just really good at making scary and weird faces, and she's lookin' for a job. Also, she was a drunk for 30 years. I guess we all have to sit down and evaluate our skills to find our niche in the world, and this woman discovered that looking scary was hers. Best of luck, Scary Woman, I hope you get a call from someone in casting.

I think that's it for the novelty roundup tonight. Honk honk.

Mark and I had a bit of a laugh at Barnes & Noble today. We were looking at the discount books, specifically the ones in the dog section (we just like looking at pictures of dogs and puppies, ok?). We saw a book called Designer Dogs, and next to it one called Mutts. Both books were full of doggie cuteness to be sure, we just found it funny that there was a bit of overlap in some of the breeds between the 2 books. Oh, that's not a mutt, that's a Jackachi (Jack Russell+Chihuahua).

I know that in theory, reputable breeders of designer breeds (a term that makes my flesh crawl with its preppiness) carefully combine screened, AKC certified dogs while taking into account possible health effects of combing different breeds whereas most mutts come about completely haphazardly. But we couldn't help thinking that damn, most of those designer dogs looked an awful lot like regular ol mutts. The difference being that a mutt can be busted out of animal control for 45 bucks, while a Puggle will set you back quite a bit more. Silly silly people.

Also, these lofts in Denver. Very funky! Do want!

So you jaded internetters think you've seen cute shit online? Think nothing can shock you with its cuteness? Well then prepare to have your fuckin socks knocked the fuck off by the cuteness that is My Milk Toof. It's the work of a woman named Inhae and it chronicles her life after her baby teeth (or teef, if you will) return to live with her. I can't handle more than a page at a time because my squees soon reach ear-piercing and I end up breathing into a paper bag. Enjoy.

From geekologie.com, a blog post about the Ms.Taken fake engagement ring that comes on a keychain attachment, presumably so you can slip it on on the sly as soon as some creepy dude slimes up next to you in the bar. I have mixed feelings about such subterfuge, like the fact that the only way to deter some sketch dude is pretending that you're already "taken", but I can also see the efficacy of it. Some assholes will only step off if they know another man has already "staked his claim" (barf), and in a loud bar or club it's often easier to flash a ring than try to shout over the noise that NO, YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED, REALLY, JUST OUT WITH THE LADIES TO DANCE!!! WHAT?! NO!! I admit that I've flashed my wedding ring in a club before because it's the only thing that gets through to some dudes, though I usually try the polite head shake and nothankyou in case the guy is genuinely nice and just taking his chances.

What made me giggle was the video that goes with the ring a variation on Incredibad's Jizz in My Pants. Here's Jizz.


Their version is Puke in My Mouth, and gets points for the facts that the women in it do some hilarious physical comedy in the mouthpuke arena and that is references masturbating AND farting in the tub all while dissing pushy dudes who want to put their boners on you on the dancefloor.

When Mark and I have our first child, this is definitely going on the To Buy List:

Young Mad Scientist Alphabet Blocks.

How could I possibly NOT get this for my kids? It has letters like:
D=Dirigible
G=Goggles
T=Tentacles
Z=Zombies

I dream about sending my little one to kindergarten as the only kid in the class who can say and correctly identify a dirigible.

Pretty much all of thinkgeek.com is full of stuff I like. For my birthday, Mark got me my very own Dismember Me Plush Zombie. Now there's a man who knows how to pick out a gift!

Been on a Fight Club kick the last few days. I blame it on the fact that, while Mark was doing some paperwork for the Coast Guard, we played, like, 3 of the movie commentary tracks. I highly recommend them, by the way. The next day I started rereading that book. I feel like now I can let myself appreciate it more than when it first came out and everyone was all, "Oh my God, this is so amazing!" Book and movie really are quite good, and one of those cases where the movie actually did a fair bit of justice to the book, even if it focused less on the love story aspect of Tyler's manifestation than making more of a rebellious split.

I laugh out loud every damn time in the movie and the book when the protagonists' boss see him at his desk all bloody and disheveled and asks, "Is that your blood?" and he responds, "Most of it is." Ha!

I'm nursing real life wounds of my own. A couple night ago Bailey and Tex were roughhousing (for all his naughtiness, I'm glad we have Tex if only to give Bailey another dog to wrassle with) and Tex decided I needed to join in. He's a Jack Russell, so when he gets wound up, he gets WOUND THE FUCK UP. He playfully jumped on me and on his way down pert near laid open my thigh with his pointy little terrier claws. Yowch! No sticthes, just an angry, seeping seam that I forget about juuuust long enough to bang against something.

But I've said too much already. The first rule of Terrier Fight Club is you don't talk about Terrier Fight Club.

Ooo ooo yes yes yes! Please please please please let me live here, pleeease? Artist lofts in the art district of Denver. *drools, falls in puddle of drool*

The irony is that we would only move to Denver if one of us got a well-paying job out there, probably better paying than their income limit. D'oh! Glad they have that, though, so that actual emerging artists can afford to live there rather than wealthy established types or millionaires who want to play at being artists.

Unintentionally hilarious craigslist ad of the day: Need a Frig. This made me giggle, especially when you include the body of the ad, and especially when you imagine T-Rex from Dinosaur Comics saying it.