Dogg Pak

'Divinyl' Homage

2010-02-28T20:54:00.000-08:00

Yes, I've been off the cyberwaves for a long time, so here's a little something to help string you along until my lazy hinder posts again:

I feel more awkward watching this than watching porn... I think it's the 'stoned nipple-twisting' which pushes the limit.
...It looks like he's at karaoke, reading off a teleprompter to his right...

The YouTube profile is Titanic Twins, and there are some videos of brother and sister, together...

And there are a lot of references to Christianity.

To me, it is unclear whether the religious references are sincere or sarcasm, but, either way, it's a huge chunk of awesome.

...and the videos showing full-body dances will have you screeching with happy.

Enjoy.

This Ain't Your Grandpa's Tool Shed

2009-12-28T03:16:00.000-08:00

Please turn back now if you're under the age of 18, or sex toys offend you:

... you have been warned.

Preface: I have friends who work the graveyard shift (or they're insomniacs). Sometimes they get bored. Sometimes, I spend the wee morning hours messing around with them online, like a big happy game of cyber-tag...

Or cyber-"I tagged you with something outrageous, see if you can one-up me."

"Ahoy, matey! Call me Ahab! Thar she blows.... oh, nevermind."

This looks horrifying until you scroll down the stats section and realize it's only 1.5 ft. tall ("assembly required").

But wait! Here's a lovely little soldering gun with holder in girl-friendly pink!

Maybe not.

This one is very Shaun's-uniform-fetish after dark (and I think Chuck would laugh at it too):

Like Dr. Steel (TM) taking over the world, one "goody cabinet" at a time.

Okay, now this is just getting ridiculous!!! If you require heavy machinery, you need to GIVE "IT" A REST!!! Just because you beat the crap out of it [pun intended] before and it bounced back doesn't mean it's going to stay that way!!
Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you keep making that face, it'll freeze like that?!

Okay: stop. Just... stop.

At this point my horror movie-saturated mind pictures mechanical failure resulting in multiple stabbings. It also makes me think there's a room full of heterosexual, male engineering geeks out there who've watched too many episodes of Jackass.

OW OW OW!!! OH SWEET CHRIST! *THAT'S IT!* I'm finishing this wine and calling it a night!!

I have GOT to start going to bed before 4 a.m.

The Muppets Rock

2009-12-08T02:45:00.000-08:00

This makes me so freaking happy.
During the rock crescendo, I instinctively began headbanging.

Happy Tuesday, everyone. Turn up your speakers, especially if you're in a cubicle.

Thanks to Jewels, who is definitely having a wonderful impact on her own little muppets.

One-Sided Conversation

2009-10-06T19:30:00.000-07:00

When you post surveys or meme's on a social site, you should expect most people to ignore them.
To the masses, it's basically a Twitter Monologue.

However, there are those pen-and-paper dorks, such as I, who do most of our casual reading online these days... And read every line of every survey you post, frequently bursting into ironic laughter or verbally barking at the computer screen, "What do you mean you're a 'good girl'?! HELLO?!? Who was the first married lady to get naked in the hot tub at Girls Weekend in Vegas?!"

It's been a bit since we checked in with St. Nick... And guess who posted a survey.

"Let's Get Ready To RUMMM-BLE!":

Who do you think reads these?
no one.
[Oh, you foolish, foolish man.]

Are you reading any books right now?
The Yeats Reader but I got a bunch more for variety :)
[Good literary choice to balance out those bodice-rippers.]

Have you ever peed in the woods?
well yeah, who hasn't, you're not a whole person unless you become one with nature by peeing on it.
[But have you ever peed on yourself while peeing in the woods?]

Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing?
there's always music, in my head.
[Like your own soundtrack? I'm thinking yours is Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees.]

Do you chew your pens and pencils?
nope, more of a suckle, lol, jk
[Please tell me there's a blackmail photo on the web.]

What is your "Song of the Week"?
Simply Irresistible "She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force You're obliged to conform when there's no other course She used to look good to me, but now I find her

Simply irresistible"

[That's so St. Nick.]

Is it okay for guys to wear pink?
no
[Please, like you're not wearing a pink polo while you sip sangria and thumb Yeats.]

Whats your favorite love movie?
Before Sunrise..Sunset
[Okay, those are the favorites of the relationship/emotionally-challenged... and also Starshine's favorites... 'nuf said.]

Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?
N/A
[BTDT. But were you wearing booty glitter at the time?]

What's upset you the most in the past week?
a cold onion, quatro, jager, whiskey, and beer.
[You and you macho man breakfasts, sheesh.]

When is the last time you said "i love you" to your number 1 on your top?
doesn't quite fit.
[Um, huh? Was that supposed to be "to your number 1 while they're on top"?]

When was the last time you cried?
When I had some super strong coffee and didn't blink for like 20 minutes.
[Ha ha; you rock.]

Is the last person you kissed more than a year older than you?
Dude, I went to a wedding, there were grannies there, so technically, many years older!
[Nothing says 'sexy' like the sweet taste of Bengay and Fixodent.]

You have to get a piercing, what do you get?
brow i suppose
[And if we bet you a lot of money on a dare?]

Do you like when people play with your hair?
Love it!
[...When it's old ladies fresh from bingo with a big jackpot to spend.]

Oh, St. Nick, how we enjoy your delicate balance of smart-ass and clown-with-disturbing-smile. I think it's time for more Pho, yo!

Friends and Breakups

2009-09-24T23:41:00.000-07:00

One salvation from breaking up with a 'significant other': Friends.

When a relationship turns a corner, it can sometimes lead to hurt feelings or a broken heart. During these times, we lean on our friends and console ourselves with favored indulgences.

For most people, that means caloric food [booze counts] and autopsy of said relationship.

We talk about how it began with such hope and light-hearted aspiration.

We dream of surpassing past heart breaks and failures, to discover something wonderful...

But, the dark, maligned stars reveal the truth: you're dating the Douchebag/ette, the Princess, the Coward, the Whiner, the Mooch, the Mama's Boy/Daddy's Girl, the Hoochie, the Gay-In-The-Closet-Who-Adores-Johnny-Depp-More-Than-You, or myriad other Imps of Disaster.

Where's the cosmic fairness in that?! Didn't you do a good job this time around?! Why the hell can't you find someone 'stable'?!

*Grrrrrr*... GESTALT THERAPY!!!!

*WHAP* *SMACK* *RAWWWR!*

Oh, the humanity!! Is there a fried foods specialist in the house?

*OM NOM NOM NOM*

Problem solved.

*urp*

Thanks to Yolandar for reintroducing me to the fun of 'finger food' and presenting a clear perspective on relationships. Pass the blood sauce.

One Boy, One Towel

2009-09-10T22:10:00.000-07:00

One boy... with a love of talc. One towel.

Cue hysterical laughter.

Oh, I so want to 'out' you, but I'll give you this one as a 'freebie'. Thanks for the unintentional giggle fest.

Leeroy Jenkins!

2009-08-09T18:00:00.000-07:00

For those of you who have circulated beyond the reach of computer game enthusiasts, "MMORPG" is not a NASDAQ abbreviation or something you contract by french kissing livestock.

It stands for Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game.

Otherwise known as the precursor to humanity's imminent assimilation:

...Because the more you play, the more stationary you become, and the easier it is for the tentacles to wrap and lock.

Some may concur with this summation:

And the marketing companies know just how to make a mundane carbonated beverage full of testes-shrinking Yellow Dye No.5 look like The S**t:

What they've concealed are the side effects of 23-hour gaming days and 12 cases of Dew:

When you have intravenous injections of high fructose corn syrup, who needs fresh air and physical human contact?

Okay, okay, I'm poking fun at the millions of people who truly enjoy such artistic digital masterpieces as World of Warcraft, Neverwinter Nights, Halo, Half-Life, etc.
Even lacking basic comprehension of MMORPG operation, you must have laughed at something related to the culture; therefore, you have benefited from their existence.

You can't tell me this doesn't brighten your day:

And remember: there's still a need out there for us pen-and-paper types...

[click on graphic for large, clear pic]

Big thanks to Bunny (recovered gamer) and Eshin (level 80 WoW Gawd) for their blog-inspiring input.

Adventures in Pussy Stroking

2009-04-04T23:50:00.000-07:00

...Um, I mean "Cat-Sitting".

...With Yolandar's Crazy Cat, aka "Sunny", aka "Vampiric Furball Who Likes to Suckle Your Wrist Blood... And Nosh on that Potted Plant":

Having spent many, MANY hours with kitty, starting at age eight weeks, I have had time to become accustomed to the oddities of feline behavior, including Sunny's love of high places, such as a person's neck:

"I'll take Whiskas and dish of Pellegrino..."

"Bish, where my crunchies?! Don't make me slap you twice!"

Not to worry; ~~Mary Poppins~~ Auntie Ravedogg comes equipped with the proper medicine:

Nothing like a little kitty chronic and a plastic bag toy:

"Sweeeeeeeet."

My clever girl has all of her humans well trained for co-habitation:

When Mother's boyfriend snores?
Paw to the face.
...Followed by WWE wrestling move akin to smothering.

When Mother isn't up by breakfast time?
Paw to the face.
...Followed by facial drumming in tribal rhythm.

When you don't get immediate recognition of your feline greatness?

Poop in the shoe.

Works every time, sweetness.

Thanks (and happy belated birthday!!) to Eshin for introducing me to the animation of Simon Tofield (Simon's Cat). Wicked funny, that.

Silly Gumby: You Must Be Punished

2009-03-17T03:00:00.000-07:00

I stumbled across this clip, and jacked it from Mental Floss. It reminded me of a few heavier Gumby and Pokey clips.

Interestingly, I know several people (myself included) who, as 8-year-olds, would have thought this this was freaking awesome...

Darkchyldren, this one's for you:

And top o'the witching hour to ya, me little Blarney butts.

Bootylicious Bakin'

2008-12-17T17:15:00.000-08:00

I jacked this from Eshin... Whom I blame for infesting my brain with this tune... So I thought I'd spread it around (ha ha):

UPDATE [3/17/09]:
Crap... Ridiculous superfluous lawsuits over copyrights!!! I used to have an odd music clip here, but it was pulled from YouTube and I cannot find it elsewhere... Poopie.

Oh well; get stoned and watch the LazyTown vid three times... Or just think about the tabloid headlines that pink-haired girl will be inspiring in 4 years... "IT'S MILEY!!"

(~The Soup, trademark, copyright, all rights reserved, soooo meaty, etc.)

Eat Me, Drink Me, Play With My Manhole

2008-10-19T03:42:00.000-07:00

Excuse me!?!

Once upon a time, there were two ~~office employees~~ magical fairy princesses assigned to clean out a storage room full of rat turds and fist-sized spiders. Reaching a bejeweled hand into a box of moldy books, one ~~office beech~~ princess cried, "Look! I have found a wonderful game! Let us rest and play with..."

Enticed by the vivid colors and modern art, the pair sat on their giant toadstools and began to 'fantasize' about 'exploring' the wonders of the Manhole:

Somehow, the lighthearted and whimsical tone seems mitigated by the force of the Manhole...

MANHOLE!

... because it's laced with GHB.

Or maybe they're subtly cautioning against, 'if he offers to slip your manhole a hot biscuit'...

Remember the days when software manuals were this simple?

Installation, huh? On most models, that comes standard.
(If this were a drinking game, "hard disk" would get you wasted in 10 min.)

The sequel, "the Womanhole", follows the same format of 'interactive exploration', but they keep that one locked up behind the counter.

FYI: I've been to The Mineshaft in Long Beach, CA. I argue that explains my jump into perverted reverie. Don't know about NotAvril... What's your excuse, lil' bit?

[Big thanks to NotAvril - a great coworker with a sweet nature and delightfully bent sense of humor, without whom this post would not have been possible. Good luck at grad school!]

Lizard the Beautiful

2008-10-17T08:57:00.000-07:00

Beautiful without and beautiful within...

She understands fashion.

She has the 'snark'.

She's brilliant and talented... Even if her cohorts don't appreciate her sense.

She's grounded and wise... With a great dose of heart.

She's been with me for decades, despite all changes in our lives.

She makes me laugh, she makes me think... She's strong and yet human, a real work of art.

She speaks her mind, but never spews hate.

She lives with a balance of sarcasm and truth... I've seen her like marble; I've seen her concerned.

She relates life case by case; commentary is just that. She's wise and observant: no two lives are the same.

I'm proud to call her 'friend'. I'm honored to let her in.

In the back of a church, I said "I love you" to a young woman in a white dress... I meant it.

This is friendship. This is true.

May we live another fifty years to see it through.

Thank you.

[Thank you for taking my late night call. Thank you for making me laugh. Thank you for listening in this difficult time.]

DaFoWo Show, Yo!

2008-10-04T10:37:00.000-07:00

This dry, witty, and well-scripted weekly serial out of Dallas-Ft. Worth, TX, is always a giggle. It's a local news review and social commentary, but that doesn't make the humor any less accessible to people across the country. If you let the player run for a bit, older episodes will continue playing.

Normally, I use nicknames for Pak members, but John was born to be a star! When we were children, he was always the sweetest kid. As an adult, John is exceedingly clever and his intellect surfaces in razor-sharp wit tempered by kindness and good manners...

Just plain adorable all around. Where is Hollywood with the big contracts?! Move it or lose it, people!

Thank You For Bein' a Friend

2008-09-23T21:06:00.000-07:00

Puppy,

How do I adore thee?
Let me count the ways:

You never perceived a difference,
A separation between 'you' and 'me';

You just kept on 'til I answered the call.
You never gave up on me.

You pushed when I pushed back,
Gave me the necessary 'reality attack'
When you pissed me off, you kept me afloat;

Practical and fair, you were there.

How you knew what I needed...

Perhaps it was just your way:
Being real fixed me today.

I never would have pressed on
If you hadn't pushed me up.

You are a good friend and an example
Of what 'support' truly means;
It's the little things which make
More than a simple human being.

Thank you, Puppy. You are one in a million.

Buggin' Out

2008-09-11T10:18:00.000-07:00

Previously, I posted a little tribute to Chuck, whose LJ pieces keep me chortling day after day.... That's right: chortling.

Chuck always finds great material I could never find on my own. This made me cough Cherry Coke Zero into my nose:

If you want to play with this fun digi-racnid, Chuck found the home site:

http://www.onemotion.com/flash/spider/

Warning: For 'spidee'-lovers this thing is Cute Level:Addictive.

Never Too Old To ROCK!!!

2008-09-09T10:54:00.000-07:00

My favorite aspect of this vid clip: how serious the lead singer is about her craft.

Oh, man, that's EXACTLY how members of the Pak have described their ideal 'Retirement Era'. I know what I want to be when I grow up.

(Credit for this goes to FuriousBall, who posted the link on his 'mood indicator', which only makes it funnier. Van, your output just gets better and better - rock on!)

Happy Birthday, Little One

2008-09-08T21:04:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday, Sweetie! It's your special day! Do want a puppy?

How about a kitty?

Something more exotic?

Well, lets start the celebration with a creamy treat! To the outdoor market, everyone!
Oh, look! Ice Cream!

Okay, just this once, Sweetie, you get to double-fist the cones. Remember to breathe through your nose...

Don't deep-throat it, honey, you'll get brain freeze.

(Big thanks to Puppy for this one... Messed up, dude.)

No, I'm Not Your Stalker (Reprise)

2008-09-05T14:20:00.000-07:00

I will be attending Conflux in Portland, OR, next month, so I cruised through some websites of local clubs, bands, DJs, etc., to get a feel for the Darkchylde community's building energy...

And that's when I found him.

Shaun of the Dead

Yup. I stumbled onto his site and actually squealed at my desk:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAA! Ohmygawd - is that really...? It is!! It. Is. AAAAA ha ha ha ha!"

Luckily, no one's in the office, today, or I would have had a lot of explaining to do.

I make a sincere effort to protect the identity of those persons mentioned here, so there are a few things about this gent I left out or altered just a bit.... I only reposted his picture because it was already accessible through a club website.

But I knew it was him, and, after spending 30 minutes absorbing all the little details, my suspicions were confirmed.

And he knows MST3K.

I'm such a dork.

... I need a new hobby.

Desert Adventures

2008-09-04T11:44:00.000-07:00

"Who wants to go on vacation to Nevada and Arizona in August? Anyone? Anyone?"

Meeeeeeeeeee!

Before you question my sanity, allow me to elucidate...

In early August, I joined a group of lovely ladies for a Bachellorette Weekend in Sin City... Although there wasn't much sinning, just sunning. And a lot of cocktails.

NO! Not THAT kind of cock tale! (good lord)

We all stayed at The Palazzo, sister hotel to The Venetian, and were delightfully surprised at the spaciousness and numerous flat screen TVs, but, due to the airlock death grip of their ventilation system, could barely get into the room.

My childhood friend Lizard - an ex-ballerina with fabulous taste in shoes - was almost wrenched out of her stilettos, putting her entire body weight into the door. Seriously, it was like watching a fashion model try to open a 10,000-pound Fort Knox vault. At night, we'd be awakened by a banshee's howling screech, only to realize it was just suction created by another guest opening their door across the hall.

The room was tastefully decorated in soft shades of green... Except for the couch, which was gold velveteen. My other childhood friend, Woogie, remarked it was reminiscent of 1970's Boutique de Boo-tay, and did inspire one to jump up on the somewhat dented coffee table and belt out a few bars of "Brick House".

While the majority of the party chose to be ~~rotisserie chickens~~ poolside bathing beauties, Lizard and I undertook a Girlie Quest for makeup and chocolate, weaving our way through cavernous casinos with as little outdoor exposure as possible. We ~~sweated~~ glistened our way to Sephora, the heat on the Strip melting the lip balm in my purse, and nearly caused my precious chocolate cargo to do the same...

Voges Haut-Chocolat, Las Vegas

Or as I like to call it "Oasis of Decadent Goodness in Ceasar's Palace" (nom nom nom). Word of advice: in the Dead of Summer, always protect the goods - take a cab back to the hotel.

My favorite part of the weekend? Saying obnoxious things just to make the bride blush and giggle... FYI: pink bondage tape makes a great shower gift for the Ann Taylor/J. Crew set.

[C.D. and River have since been married - CONGRATULATIONS!!!
You are a seriously awesome couple - next round is on me!]

After brief respite in California, I joined Yolandar in the lazy comfort of Phoenix... Okay, we were actually in Scottsdale, which made us some of the sexiest beeches at the Retirement Center pool.

We spent most of the time by the pool and in happenin' restaurants/bars, eating great food. Okay, mostly drinking great food.

"Of COURSE margaritas count as lunch! Geez!"

After dark, we went for a walk in a beautiful lightening storm, which, as the rain broke, turned into an unintentional wet T-shirt contest. People either thought we were crazy or wanted to buy us drinks.

Compounding this insanity, we climbed Camelback Mountain, only to discover halfway up we had turned onto the 'advanced' trail. I was in admiration of the leathery old farts who made me eat their trail dust. If I trained as hard as they did in direct desert sunlight, I wouldn't be a buff senior citizen, I'd be more like

The vacation was chic-flicktastic. We laughed. We shared. We fell in love...

With puppies:

My expression behind the camera phone was along the lines of

Yolandar is an amazing vacation buddy and graciously allowed me to drag her around... Even to the puppy store. A must-stop in Scottsdale is Pet's Landing, where they let you molest the puppies and kitties until you're completely smitten and have to resist the urge to buy them in bulk... I almost hooked kittens to my shirt and stuffed wiener dogs in my pockets.

Hey, I needed my hands free to snag a Welsh Corgi.

I always do my best to protect the identity of my Pak and their loved ones, so I won't go into a lot of detail about Yolandar's brother and his family... They invited us to dinner at their home, which turned out to be a drool-inducing fajita smörgåsbord. There were several cute moments: her brother intentionally burning steak because I like carbon coating on my meats; the sister-in-law who risks life and limb and back surgery to repaint the house by herself; their adorable punkette daughter; their World of Warcraft-addicted son who fuels planes in death-inducing temperatures at PHX.
One very awesome family.

All in all, an absolutely wonderful August with some very wonderful people. Thanks, my pretties.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to wring out my liver.

More Shiny Bodysuits

2008-08-19T10:58:00.000-07:00

Okay, I promise I am trying to compose a post with wit and adoration, describing the wonderful people I met in Las Vegas, NV, and Phoenix, AZ, this month...

In the meantime, you're stuck with this:

Brings to mind this little bit of joy, which iTunes has yet to embrace.

(Today's little distraction was jacked from deathrockluv on LJ, who really makes me want to visit Denver for the Darkchylde scene.)

Only the Strong Shall Thrive

2008-08-17T18:31:00.000-07:00

I found this vid clip on my own and it defies words. When I'm feeling pissy about something, I can watch this and be inspired by a person who has the strength to press onward.
I cannot praise him or his friends enough. They are 'real' together and a true Family of Choice unit. Loving someone despite day-to-day obstacles is never easy. There will be emotional turmoil and consternation, but friendships which survive adversity are true and priceless.
I will never view Zack Weinstein as 'disabled', for he has the beautiful ability to appreciate life.
Way to achieve, Zack. You put the rest of us whiners to shame:

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Productivity Watershed

2008-07-17T17:00:00.000-07:00

Arrived at the office feeling drained, yet content, when what to my wondering eyes should appear? A quick morning e-mail from Bunny...

Which led to a day of online gaming...

Stealthily conducted under the noses of supervisors and coworkers.

Let's just say Eve is layin' the SMACKDOWN on Baby Jesus!

K.O. in the manger, Bee-ach!

If you only have ~~four~~ 5 min. to ~~save~~ end the world:

AAAA! Watch out for the clowns!

"Nothing is scarier than a clown."
Especially when they jump out of the toilet.

And I am digging Viva Caligula.

Oh, look: pagan prostitutes on fire...

It's like the original computer version of Grand Theft Auto: all directional arrows and rapid key-stabbing to commit acts of virtual violence... But I haven't uncovered the 'have an orgy with your sister' action, yet.

[adult swim] and William Street Games rock my world. Enjoy.

(Big thanks to Bunny, who knows just how to make me laugh 'til my nose runs... But if I get fired, I'm so living in your van.)

These Kids Will Wipe Your Butt in 40 Years

2008-07-11T12:29:00.000-07:00

The future of America has never looked so ~~bright~~ apocalyptic:

Well, my mother is a malignant beignet because she bakes me.

Uh, huh. Hope you have a backup plan.
And which came first, 'collage' or 'college'?

Meaning he doesn't understand the games, just wants the latest scoop on A-Rod?

I are facilitate with bad grammar.

If you say that with a Scottish accent, it doesn't sound so bad.

Perhaps, I am being a grammar and composition snob. I certainly do not live up to my education all of the time. In an era of increasing disparity between wealthy and poor, comfortable and struggling, I should give the benefit of the doubt to children who may have difficult lives, which affect their ability to learn.

Or I could just benign the bacon pizza.

NOTE: Clips were taken from 9th grade vocabulary tests during the middle of the year. These children are not remedial, nor are they English Language Learners, nor in the juvenile court system.

(Thanks to G-Chen of SoCal: a lovely lady with lots of wit, energy and smiley goodness. CONGRATULATIONS on the new job! Good luck with the rugrats, my dear... And the censored language.)

Candy and Robots

2008-07-09T11:40:00.000-07:00

This one's for Puppy, who loves robots and says "gummy buffalo" with an Eastern European accent... Which always makes me laugh until I'm winded ("Is that so wrong?" LOL):

ITT VAN A GUMIMACI (The Gummy Bear Song - Hungarian version)

Giving my source credit where it's due, I yanked this from Brother Walrus, who posted the lyrics on his site... Pay him a visit if you can't understand what the fudge they're saying.

(Sex) Changing the Baby

2008-06-30T19:58:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have discovered these in your e-mail box, but, after getting into the intentionally wry (and humorous) debate over the Miley Cyrus picture flap on Chuck's blog, I felt the need to share:

You had a baby, but Daddy always wanted a little Jr. to whom he could teach the joys of sports and urinals? Or Mummy wanted a lace-covered lovely?

No longer a problem!

They even have a convenient payment plan, which helps ease the burden of all those necessary follow-up procedures, like little Timmy's breast implants at age thirteen.

With years of hormone injections and body-waxing ahead, a parent or guardian should do a lot of research on their child's primary health care provider(s).

Remember: Selecting a provider based solely on cost can have dire consequences. Your wallet may feel the pinch, but think of how much you'll save on therapy bills down the road....

Umm... There's a reason to have the entire staff review the company logo before moving ahead with the sign order:

Oh, well... Nothing says 'professional' like 500 business cards with sexually suggestive art.

At least you have something to toss in the 'win a free lunch' fishbowl at the Elephant Bar.

(Oh, Jewels... How you make the day brighter... Thanks for the chain mail.)

Mmph... Pardon the Drool

2008-06-10T13:31:00.000-07:00

I think my nervous system just gave out:

Lovends (Music and lyrics copyright of John L.)

Some of the best romantic vampire stories synced to a haunting melody...

Somebody get me a lace handkerchief... Or a pint of A negative.... Or a booty call.

You, probably, will not be surprised to discover that the singer/songwriter, John, is related to a musician mentioned in an earlier post, Jenni Wildflower.

Rumor has it this family is seriously contemplating an official collaboration in the Seattle area. If they go on tour, I'll be the geek in the front row wearing a homemade band T-shirt and holding up a lighter during all the slow jams.

We Likes The Meat

2008-06-05T09:34:00.000-07:00

So many wonderful early-twenties memories of waking up on someone else's couch, and hearing:

"Who's ready for breakfast meat?"

... or maybe it was "Who wants a big plate o' meat?"

I'll concede it isn't an exact quote, but my Dogg Brain had suffered heavy damage on those nights prior to the morning "meat's up" cry.

Anywho, there are certain carnivorous members of the Pak (Hezzah? Zingger?) who will appreciate:

Breakfast Cake

(it's a sausage, bacon, and cheese quiche with Bisquick to make cake and gravy frosting)

I haven't had the pleasure of meeting these people... The post mentions Issaquah, so I'll assume they reside east of Seattle, WA.

Yes, he is double-fisting beer and coffee.

Is it any wonder I love the Pacific Northwest.

IS THAT "ROCK BAND" EQUIPMENT I SPY?!

Ummm, I'm trying to relocate in a northerly direction... You guys need a roommate?

Who Wants To Scrub The Grill?

2008-06-04T19:08:00.000-07:00

OMFG.

Remember those summer nights, the grill smoking in the background while the kids play in the yard?

...Sinking your arm into a cooler up to the elbow, digging for the preferred beverage?

And then the rain would break, soft and heavy, hissing on the pavement, on the overheated grill...

And what to do IF THE GRILL GOT WET....

Uh, huh.

I guess the girl behind the grill is the most important variable in the equation...

(Thanks to Starshine for this giggle.)

Interior Skeletal Chic

2008-05-21T19:45:00.001-07:00

I'm thinking of redecorating the Dogg Cave, and this designer is my first choice:

So cozy and dark and inviting...

These are all promotion stills from HR Giger Bar in Château St. Germain, Gruyères, Switzerland.

For those of you who do not recognize the style, think lots of pointy teeth, acidic blood, and 6 major motion pictures:

"Giger’s third and most famous book, Necronomicon, published in 1977, served as the visual inspiration for director Ridley Scott’s film Alien, Giger's first film assignment, which earned him the 1980 Oscar for the Best Achievement in Visual Effects for his designs of the film's title character and the stages of its lifecycle, plus the film’s the otherworldly environments. Giger's other film works include Poltergeist II, Alien3 and Species."
~ www.hrgiger.com

The bar is not open late, which is a bummer because this could be the most enticing Darkwave/Goth club decor in the history of human kind.

If you get the chance to visit, please let me know if the food and service match the ambiance.

Just watch out for the hostess: she's a real bitch....

(Thanks, yet again, to Puppy for the 'heads up'.)

Silver Velveteen Bodysuits ROCK!

2008-05-14T09:54:00.000-07:00

This video makes me so happy...
Huge thanks to Eshin, from whom I jacked this clip - you wouldn't believe how much of the Pak is chuckling over this:

Seriously: I can't stop smiling.

...and I catch myself singing at the copier.

...in the hallway.

...where people give me disturbed looks.

Pink is the New Freaky

2008-05-07T18:47:00.000-07:00

Ever think Darth Vader was just a bit too dark?

His basic black, although a stunning example of Quasi-Bondage Goth Daywear, may have been more appropriate to the 1980's punk and underground scene than to the prefabricated, American-Idolized kiddies of today who are pressed out of the mold faster than Pimpercrombie & Bitch can say 'lawsuit'.

Darth, sweetie, how about updating that classic look with a splash of color and some iconography which speaks to a broader audience?

Now even little Suzie - age 4 - can be lured into the Wars merchandising machine.

And don't forget to accessorize!

That's it ladies. See? Epic intergalactic battles and semiautomatic sub-machine gun fire isn't just for boys, anymore!

But you don't have to lose your femininity. Think Gene Harlow, think Gretta Garbo, think...

Dita Von Teese

...Looking fabulous in faux fur and oozing silver screen chic, there is no doubt that pink can be perfect....

Of course, recreating this look outside of an international, multi-million dollar centerfold magazine studio can lead to dire impoverished results:

"Love your pets; just don't LOVE your pets."

(Props to Puppy for another photographic dose of amusing blog fodder.)

No, I'm Not Your Stalker (Part Deux)

2008-04-21T23:00:00.000-07:00

Voyeurism: Scopophilia; the tendencies or behavior of a voyeur (an obsessive observer of sordid or sensational subjects).

For those of you who have been around since the beginning, you will remember my earlier entry on Shaun of the Dead... Who is, undoubtedly, unaware of that little post.

And he's not the only subject worthy of obsessive scrutiny... Oh, no.

I think I'm in love.

Meet Jodi of Zanesville, OH. Biggest Def Leppard fan in the universe, kick-ass mother and wife: stalk-worthy.

I bet this woman could drink me under the table while spanking Joe Elliott into submission. Her playlist makes me want to present my wrists, manacle-ring side up.

And she loves

Eddie Izzard as much as I do; seems we like our lovelies as we like our coffee: covered in bees...

Jodi, please come to CA to visit Kevin... I'm sure he would love the chance to make out with you, too.

[UPDATE: THERE'S A BEE IN MY KITCHEN RIGHT NOW - 11:05 PM! It's fate, I tell you!]

Meet Chuck, of Denver, CO. I have no freaking clue who he is, but I knew he was gold when I read his profile on OKCrazy (FYI: 'wooing' = low-grade OKC spam e-mail equivalent of "whuzzup, send me a pic of yo' naked torso"):

"About me:
If you even DARE consider wooing me, I swear to GOD I will find out where you live, break into your home, crap in your kitchen sink, use all your bras and panties in your undies drawer to wipe my butt, and help your cat pile the corpses of every mouse, bird, and squirrel in the neighborhood in the middle of your livingroom floor...and then maybe your cat and I will rent a movie or something. Who knows?

"You should message me if:
Hmmmm. I guess, for one thing, you can write me if you want to engage in some good, creative lunacy for starters. Or brain trading. Or hair sniffing. It'll be fun.

I find I'm instinctively treating this thing more as a message board rather than a vehicle for getting somebody in the sack. (None of you are actually having sex, are you? Admit it.) So please be at liberty to freely spew your vomit into my inbox without the fear that I'll put it into jars and make an altar to you or something. (Unless you want to specifically request something like. I'll fax you the paperwork.)"

Tell me YOU don't want to build him an alter. (you know you do)

Turns out there's more to be enjoyed on Live Journal:

Anyone read about that couple who got in a fight over which gang should initiate their toddler? Chuck did.

I follow his LiveJournal postings, many of which leave me laughing and, sometimes, feeling like an illiterate teenager who plays too much Guitar Hero and can't spell "endometriosis". (How the hell do all you people find the time to do a literary genealogy of Aleister Crowley? I can barely check my seven e-mail accounts and reply to my employer!)

Dying is easy; comedy is hard... And dry wit is priceless.

"Dear Jodi and Chuck,
If you ever need someone to clean your catbox, spit-polish your Docs, wax your sister, or comb the shag in the livingroom: I'm already there. But I don't do toilets.... Or laundry with skidmarks.
Clatto Verata Nicto, baby.
Deep prostration at your feet,
RD"

Okay, maybe I am your stalker...
But at least the high level of American Airlines flight cancellations ensures I'm not in your bushes right now.

(stupid black-out dates)

15 Years From Menopause and My Parents Still Want to Powder My Butt

2008-04-10T23:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Birth-Givers,

You need to cut the F-ing cord.

Seriously.

I owe you everything: my life (more than once), my health, my somewhat secure financial state, half the meager possessions in my rat-hole apartment.

However, this does not give you the right to pretend that I am still an accessory in your ecru-drenched, white bread, whites' only, swallow-your-emotions, yuppie universe.

Logging into my AOL account and reading all the subject lines (perhaps more)?

NOT cool.

Calling my banker and asking him to transfer money between my accounts?

NOT cool.

To help you understand exactly how far you've stepped over the line, I've made some signs in big black magic marker, so they'll be easy to spot:

Just so you know: all of the behaviors and life-goals you worked so hard to instill in me have not been a waste.

On my next visit home, I'm bringing a serious, very special someone.

It's a man.
(*whew*)

He's white.
(*gasp! what other choice was there!*)

His family are upper middle class Catholics.
(*well, not Protestant, but at least she got a non-crazy Christian.*)

He's employed as a computer systems analyst with a six-figure salary.
(*Thank god, she came to her senses.*)

He drives a black BMW.
(*Hmmm... What series/model?*)

And he has a great sense of humor.
(*No cursing, we hope.*)

I took this when we were shopping for matching black leather belts with silver spikes:

I know you will give Razor and I your blessing.

If not, that's cool.

We'll just move to Portland with his polyamorous girlfriend and buy a house big enough for his weekend metal band, my wiener dog farm, and Trixzy's pole-dancing workshop.

(Special thanks to L. for passing along the pics. Perfect timing, Puppy.)

Live Long and Hotter

2008-04-06T15:21:00.000-07:00

Molly,
I know it's not The Doctor and Captain Jack, but it's still pretty damn

Yaoi

Big thanks to Bunny for this submission...

Hmmmmm, submission....

Excuse me while I hit 'Play' again.

Screaming Out Loud

2008-03-25T11:07:00.000-07:00

[This was inspired by and written for a particular individual, but I dedicate it to all of my slightly worn beloveds, who are perfect with their chipped edges, scratches, and stains.]

T.,

I do not know you.
I don’t know what has fueled your joys and sorrows.
I don’t know what made you curl up instead of flying free.
I don’t know why you’re feeling broken inside.

My life may be nothing like yours… but I’ve lain there in that hospital bed, feeling worse for being there because I stumbled at the moment of my intended exit, feeling like it was further proof of personal failure and ineptitude.

Years later, I cannot believe I was willing to throw away every minute I’ve had since. No, it hasn't been all pleasant. Yet, the glory of new discoveries in a world I never previously perceived has been dazzling.

What I winnowed from those years was an understanding of the seemingly impenetrable darkness of a haunted mind. Some of us are beaten, some of us are screamed at, some are distorted by apathy. It comes from strangers, casual acquaintances, or, worst of all, from friends and family. Regardless of the ignition age or source of distress, the mind can incubate and nurture stygian obsession with adroit skill.

Consumed by such bile, many display complex coded cries for help. Family believes it sees us. Family swears it knows us. Those who believe they understand us are often the last to know, and rarely comprehend the entire situation. And Family has its constrictions.

A dear childhood friend had a mother more heartless than any I’ve met. My friend’s mother never missed the chance to tell her little angel “you look fat in that”, “that looks horrible on you: go upstairs and change”. For her sixteenth birthday, this woman gave her daughter a scale. My friend swallowed pills for years. Never truly wanting death, but quietly hoping for an accident… Just to make it stop... Just to make the voice down the hall stop.

Then there is another who seemed to shine so bright. I watched her grow up, screamed my guts out at her sports games, and never saw the undeniable truth: she was fading. I was right there, fading alongside her and I never said a word. Her eating disorder reduced her from fierce feminine beauty to potential collegiate expulsion.

...

Those of us in the dark know complete recovery is impossible; we’ll always have cerebral muscle-memory of the pain, but we can turn on a light.
Or even open a window.

Five years ago, as I had another of my then-typical agoraphobic anxiety attacks, someone bitch-slapped me out of it:

“I don’t have any respect for people like you.”

In that black pre-dawn hour, I saw clearly.
I would not accept scorn from the apathetic or pity from the loving. I refused to allow suicidal self-hatred to define or mar the life I could lead. I would be damned if I gave up without a fight.

I was no longer despairing… I was furiously determined.

...

And then there are the people we love…

Living solely to protect others from the pain of your passing is not enough. Tolerating your existence to martyr yourself to their needs is not enough. You can thrive on loving them, but you cannot survive living only for their peace of mind.

In the end, happiness requires we stand tall in our own shoes – heels or flats, sneakers or boots – voices calling out for the freedom, life, and love we deserve.

Don’t whisper - shout. Jump up and down, wave your arms, thrash around.
We will see you.

Never forget: you are not alone.

There are many like us, and I have lived to meet them.
We cannot eat; we cannot eat without purging; we cannot eat for fear of nerves.
We cut our flesh to redirect the pain, to distract our minds, to punish ourselves.
We drink to be numb; we drink to forget; we drink because it is something else to do besides obsess.
We question the source of happiness and beat our heads against the wall in frustration as it all appears ever so slightly beyond our grasp.
We love our families… Why don’t they understand us…
We hate our families… Why couldn’t they see the damage they’ve done….

If you leave us now, we lose another sister, another soldier, who could have stood with us and helped lead the next generation home.

Believe me when I say, you do not want to miss this. The world may be vast and terrifying, and the internal world even more so, but you do not want to miss this.

We are here, waiting. We have each other. We’re a lot fun and laughter… We’d like to meet you.

If you open the window, perhaps you will discover you want to meet us, too.

Idle Hands.....

2008-03-22T17:58:00.001-07:00

I usually post items discovered courtesy of a friend...
But these are mine.

I hope your browser renders them a legible size. Increasing the posting size distorts the original image.

Years ago, I completed a full deck of cards on a computer without Photoshop or any other Adobe CS program. And I loved every minute of it.

Oh, I've got more... Idle hands do the devil's work, and mine are too bored for their own good.

Origin of a Canid

2008-03-20T23:02:00.000-07:00

This blog is not a personal diary or therapeutic inner-monologue.

The world and people around me are far more intriguing and worthy of perlustration.

However, as this little record of those amazing Others gains quiet momentum, I receive more and more inquiries as to the source of my name, Ravedogg.

Yes, to me, it truly is my name, bestowed with humor and oft-repeated in friendship, the endearment magnified by its decade-long endurance.

You won't find me at Burning Man or any illegal warehouse parties downtown.

And if you ever catch me in fluffy neon-colored vests, big hats, and oversized plastic jewelry, you have my permission to perform a mercy killing.

No... Here's where I began:

One fall evening on a college campus along California's south coast, a heavy metal enthusiast found herself blessed with an empty dorm room.

The Gates of Hell had made another trip home for the weekend, and I was flying high on supreme command of the stereo.

[The Gates involve repeated post-shower, full-frontal encounters with lots of Victoria's Secret body lotion... Please don't ask me to relive that in detail.]

I opened a window, flipped on the blacklights, and cranked Pantera up to 'ear bleed'.

Little did I know, down on the sidewalk leading into the building, stood a girl who would become a life-altering inspiration and dear friend.

She looked up at the window and said, "A real Ravedogg must live there."
And once you've piqued her curiosity - it's on.

So there you have it. One seemingly mundane moment setting a lifetime precedent, creating a new identity.

Thank you, Hezzah, for taking the first step in turning a sow's ear into a black leather purse... with lots of surly silver studs.

Who Spiked the Candy?!

2008-03-15T02:37:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't like gummie candies?

People who want to avoid date rape, apparently.

While enjoying the delicious and unusual taste of these German gummies, in the fabulous shape of blood drops and skull-and-cross-bones:

I perused the text on the back.....

Can't read small print? Allow me....

Yup. Rape-seed. Thought I felt a little light-headed.

Hey, little pretty, want some candy?

Unwrapping Santa's Package

2008-03-13T20:32:00.000-07:00

When Yolondar of Portland first introduced me to St. Nick, I thought, "What a friendly, open, clean-cut young man."

And then I found out about his luscious past: shake that money maker, soldier boy!

As I forced details out of St. Nick, drooling with eager curiosity about a lifestyle I've never known, he buried his chin in his chest and mumbled, reduced to a blushing schoolboy by my exuberant attention. I believe time proved I was not being judgmental, just a devious tease who would say anything to illicit a smile.

By my last day in PDX, he was sharing the contents of his prized boxer collection: that's my boy! Next time I come across boxers with cartoon animals on the bum, they're all yours.

The subject of strippers brings up a topic which has recently been on the minds of friends across the nation: "Are we sluts?"

Not long ago, a good friend confided concern about what they perceived as their tendency towards excessive promiscuity.

I was floored.

This person is amazing: sexy, friendly, loving, sincere, gorgeous inside and out. I would be blessed to be 1/10 as fabulous. I would probably be a lot more comfortable in my skin if I conducted myself with as much strength and courage.

In the clothed light of day, "slut" and "whore" can be venomous and hollow slurs, most often spouted by the jealous and insecure.

It's one thing to Tarzan yell, "You F**ing Bitch; You F**ing Whore" in the bedroom, quite another to spit these words in passive conversation.

Ironically, the most worldly and confidant fret over the same issues as the shy and inexperienced. Most of us are constantly concerned about our perceived inadequacies and failures, even if the rest of the world doesn't notice.

Have not these modern times evidenced the scientific and mathematical inability to quantify/qualify "Normal", "Average"?

Go ahead, my pretties: bitch-slap self-reproach and self-doubt to the floor. Life is too short and you are too brilliant to hide away.

...And the next time you're in Portland, OR, feel free to show St. Nick a little love: tip his good deeds with a fiver in the Jockeys... or a Voodoo Doughnut.

Counting F**ks

2008-03-08T20:51:00.000-08:00

Another from Jewels:

I think my love of flamboyant Goth boys began with the count.

That's hot.
[Copyright; TM, R, Paris can lick my nugget, etc.]

Simple Joys

2008-03-05T18:29:00.000-08:00

Encouraged by my September 2006 trip to Portland, I made another visit in January 2007.

While standing in the bar line at Hive, I began conversing with Eshin (those of you 'in the know' will understand the pseudonym). I thought he was a dear, so I willingly parted with my e-mail - the real address, not my "Well, you're SPAM" address.

Digital correspondence and blog-sharing have, delightfully, revealed harmonious demeanors and sense of humor.

I lifted this from Eshin's web journal, and I dedicate it to Jewels, with whom I have spent years watching Muppets and other television intended for children:

Thanks, you two, for giving me reasons to smile.
Yip Yip-ee-I yo mama!

Soundtrack to a Lovely Evening

2008-03-04T21:30:00.000-08:00

I stumbled across this while crawling through the 6 Degrees of StalkerSpace (via Starshine of Bellevue, WA); the beauty of it brings to mind of a lot of good memories.

Picture SoCal in summer, after dark, circled lawn chairs on someone's patio or in a driveway, speaker in the window, occasional wafts of the grill cooling off. The music turns soulful sweet, and everyone runs out of conversation at the same time. Backdrop to stereo, the life sounds of neighbors, traffic, and (in my neck of suburbia) the symphony of little frogs in the damp washouts hum on. For a few minutes, all seems perfection; when the feeling lasts until dawn, it certainly is.

Remember when?:

Lyrics & Music by God Made Flesh (Jenni Wildflower) [Copyright, TM, R, etc. legal stuff]

"Negro Spiritual"

Michael when you gonna get outta that boat
Michael when you gonna learn how to float
Michael when you gonna be my swan
Michael when we gonna see a new dawn

Michael I exhausted wanting for one touch
this fasting and this praying's gone on long enough
If you an angel you should listen to God's daughter
If you a messenger come trouble these waters

Come to me I'll be your miracle
I will pervade your body like a Negro Spiritual

Michael you the one who tossed about
by every wind of doctrine blowing about
Michael you're not being careful can't you see
Michael you need to turn and look at me
Look at me

Michael why you listen what men say
you take their words to heart you digging your own grave
Michael you more than just another king
Michael you an everlasting thing

Come to me I'll be your miracle
I will pervade your body like a Negro Spiritual

--Michael don't you go and do no violence to your soul
you know you shouldn't hurt something that old--

Michael I just a stone out on the road
You shake the firmament you get the story told
I loved you once and now what's done is done
Michael in the end the kingdom come come come

to you it be your miracle it will pervade your body like a Negro Spiritual Come to me I'll be your miracle
I will pervade your body like a Negro Spiritual

Sleep tight, pretties.

Wedding (Boob) Bonanza

2008-02-29T13:14:00.000-08:00

I'm finally getting around to flipping through the professional photographer's snaps from The Wedding Bonanza. He was a little odd, as evidenced by:

Congrats on the wedding, girlfriend, and on your sweet rack.

By the by, there were THREE of these photos in the stack of proofs AND several primo bridesmaid cleavage shots taken from above (I recall seeing the photographer on a chair more than once). One would think he'd have the sense to remove his monkey-spank material before submitting them to the happy couple.

Can we say "One Hour Photo"?

Creepy.

Stimulating Education

2008-02-28T09:45:00.000-08:00

I'm in tears.

I was crying during an office meeting, trying to pass it off as allergies or something in my eye.

I can scarcely breathe.

I may wet myself.

I'm crying because I must not laugh out loud; I mustn't be unprofessional.
The only recourse for this emotional flood is to pour from my eyes.

My department is submitting an application for grant funding, so we met to revise and complete the proposal. One of the program leaders has a mild speech impediment. Occasionally, she slurs her words, as though she's speaking with her mouth full.

She read her revisions aloud:
"New approaches and new perspectives on the work of teaching critical literacy..."

But that's not what we heard:
"New approshes and new pershpectives on the work of teaching clitorisy..."

I bit my lip - hard.

My eyes went wide and I held my breath because I could not trust myself to remain silent.

And the woman continued without pause, as though nothing was amiss. The entire staff appeared unaware of the verbal face-plant; I was the only one fighting off the giggles.

I'm shy with coworkers and strangers, but I openly admit to a hyperactive imagination with a tendency to automatically pervert even the most dry and innocuous comments. My mind began to rewrite the grant for our new study...

"Clitorisy"
A cunning linguistic study to analyze the biologically coded language of the female form. We propose an in-depth, interactive research project, probing for new data in an established, high-energy field.
The resulting climax of the project will be presented at the annual conference before a panel of professionals, who are qualified to strip the data and anatomize the structure to determine the origin of incitement triggering the cascade in clitoral learning.

At least I managed to remain silent.

Did I mention everyone else at the meeting was over 50?

Good thing I kept my mouth shut about piercing the veil of a stimulated educational structure.

What's in a Name?

2008-02-26T07:36:00.001-08:00

For those of you checking in regularly, you'll notice the blog title has changed. It took me a while, but I finally decided on a direction for this little hobby: it's all about you.

I have been very fortunate to meet and befriend some of the best people out there, and I want you to enjoy their escapades and humor as much as I do. If you have a blog, website, or other digibit you want to share, please e-mail the info or post a comment (you can comment anonymously).

I can't promise I'll post it, or that I'll do so in a timely manner, but I'm sincerely interested... Unless it's Kev with his 10-gig collection of pasty-white middle-aged men in women's underwear. That's like being on the centrifugal ride at Six Flags: seemingly all fun and games until someone ralphs up a funnel cake.

This little tidbit comes from a fellow wine lover, Jewels of Rat's Ass, Missouri. Okay, you Missourians will probably recognize the nearest outpost to her home: Wentsville, west of St. Louis. (I just live to give you crap, baby doll):

Are these liquid existential epiphanies supposed to occur with lessening frequency as one ages?

Really?

Crap.

Ravedogg's words of wisdom for today:
Absinthe + rum-and-cokes = big trouble

Before Sunrise

2008-02-19T23:22:00.000-08:00

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

At once terrifying and exquisite, it is surrender to the unknown, releasing our inhibitions and dismantling well-developed defenses, pushing past all self-repression to embrace a new piece of knowledge and the possibility of hope renewed and faith restored.

Those individuals who inspire and invoke such radical action beyond our comfort zone with sincere kindness and absence of ulterior motive or passive-aggressive dominance, all for the purpose of gently pressing us into a new world of brighter possibilities, are the muses of modern times.

They're our blood. They're our friends. They have their needs and problems, but they're our family of choice, blood or no.

We love them and stand by them, even when they fail us...
Even when they fail themselves.

We cannot imagine our world, our lives, our souls without them.

Life will take many paths, some which cross more frequently than others.

To all my pretties:
When the shit hits the fan and you feel pressed beyond bearing, you can always come home.

This door is always open; here, you will never be forgotten.

Welcome to our newest addition from Bellevue, WA. Another brilliant inspiration in the dark heart of American apathy. Head high, Starshine: you're more important than you know.

No, I'm Not Your Stalker

2008-02-15T10:45:00.000-08:00

In person, I'm awkward and shy until a friendship is solidified.
Then you can't shut me up.

I never approach strangers or speak unless spoken to out of concern that I may offend or annoy.

Yet, I love to engage in a little barroom voyeurism; to sit back and watch others having the time of their lives.

And I love a good party... in almost any form.

My journey beyond the dark oubliette of my little Mole Person hole began with me growing a pair... Of steel-clad ovaries, that is. I decided: I love dancing, I love music on the dark end of the spectrum (though most of my friends don't), and I ain't geriatric, yet, so I'm going clubbing, even if I have to go alone!

And that's just what I did.

Over the past year and a half, I've met some really friendly people, and, although most of them are only in my life for one night (stop snickering, you perverts), I still remember them with a smile.

So when I cruise the 'net, skimming through club listings or Crackbook or StalkerSpace, I get a kick out of rediscovering these friendlies all over again.

On my first solo clubbing adventure - Sept. 2006 in Portland, OR - a charming gent broke my 'stranger barrier' and struck up a conversation:

"Shaun.... Like 'Shaun of the Dead'."

I like him already.

I don't know anything about him, except what he chose to tell me (helloooooo uniform fetish). For all I know, he could be a serial killer named Bubba. But, he made me laugh, which made my first solo experience at a goth club a positive one.

Thank you, Bubba.
You made my night brighter and extroversion a hell of a lot less intimidating.

And I think I see him in this one, too.....

It's like a digital age "Where's Waldo"......

(See, this is why I try to avoid having my picture taken: You never know what loony with a blog is gonna share you with the world.)

Ha ha.

Holy Puking Toddlers, Batman

2008-01-06T22:40:00.000-08:00

I took my first trip to Boston, MA, after the wedding in Oct.

The following happened in 72 hours:

I was greeted by three waitresses and a hostess at Absinthe, all of whom were getting crazy to Idol's "White Wedding".

"I can't drink because I'm on antibiotics," said the Red Sox fan who was eating take-out soup at The Bean (local's pub).

A toddler sitting next to me on the T puked on herself. A lot.

At the Salem Witch Trials Wax Museum, a wax dummy with unfortunate hand placement appeared to be scratching his wax crabs.

Hezzah, my hostess, and I (sort of) stalked a long-haired strawberry-blond man, lured to potential arrest for assault by the siren call of his shiny locks (it was so just so damn pretty, you'd want to pet it).

At Salem Beer Works, I drank beer with blueberries in it and ate some damn tasty fish n' chips.

When we went to pick it up, the Zip Car we rented for a booze/grocery run was already badly dented. The interior smell and distance between the seats and the dashboard indicated two large chain-smoking dudes had been the ones playing hit-and-run.

At Hezzah's Halloween party, I met Fannie Mae busting a move in the kitchen:

We ate a 13" x 9" pan of seven-layer bean dip and watched awkward porn.
Sorry, I'm not embedding THAT video, but let's just say it made me go "What, What?!" (in the butt):

And the last thought I verbalized before keeling over?

"Huh. Those dudes were as hairless as the women."

The Wedding Bonanza

2007-10-28T21:54:00.000-07:00

[My apologies for the long hiatus... I've been in three states in 10 days and I don't even know what freaking time it is. I was in a wedding... Read on for the goods:]

It used to be “The Bride’s Day”, when a little girl raised in traditional heterosexual U.S.A. could draw the people of her universe into her orbit with the gravitational force of a small planet.

Now it’s an F-ing week.

They hire butchers, bakers, and bouquet-makers, and attempt to bend the law of averages to prevent even the ring-bearing dogs from farting. I love weddings, but only when the crowd is liberally fun and relaxed. I don’t need to do body shots off of the wedding party to enjoy myself, I just can’t bear the tension exuded by people who are constantly afraid of the perpetual possibility of imperfection.

When asked to assume the important role of bridesmaid for a childhood friend, I enthusiastically accepted the opportunity to stand up for woman I so adore and admire… Then I received the official agenda…

With a massive schedule of events ranging from a Thursday night bachelorette party to the Sunday post-wedding brunch, I christened it all The Wedding Bonanza.

The bride thought I was being cute… I’m just a lovable smart-ass.

Two days before my flight, I received the e-mail requesting we refrain from raunchy sundries at the bachelorette party and other Wedding Bonanza events.

I immediately informed my office I was taking lunch in town and made a bee line for the porn store.
Airport security had a good day.

After a late bachelorette night at the piano bar, a three-hour bridal luncheon, the rehearsal and three-hour rehearsal dinner, I dragged my carcass to the salon for a mani-pedi. At one point I actually fell asleep in the vibrating pedicure chair… Guess I should have left it set to ‘pulsate’.

I was in by 9A.M. and heading out by 11A.M., only to come face-to-face with the Matron of Honor and her Junior Bridesmaid daughter. The look on the Matron’s face made me want to throw my head back and cackle: “Rode hard and put away wet” has never been so poignantly manifest.

By 2P.M., we were coated in concealer and looking fabulous. Just in time for two hours of posing for the photographer.

I began counting down the minutes until I’d be allowed near the bar.

After eight hours without food and two hours before dinner, I gratefully accepted a vodka tonic and washed it down with a glass of Chardonnay, all of which led me to laugh too loud and experience a twisted crush on the photographer, who began to look more and more like Langly from The Lone Gunmen.

On Sunday, I laughed with a gaggle of the bride’s friends from her college days, swigging Diet Coke and flexing my calves, which were locked into high heel mode from the previous day’s exertions.

Worth it. All worth it… And I’m still munching on those fab sexually-explicit bachelorette candies.

To the bride and groom: Wishing you "Much hap-PENIS"!

Da's My Titta

2007-10-06T21:24:00.000-07:00

One night in Portland, two women walk into a bar...

"I didn't mess with the Tittas."

Excuse me?

Say hello to Ty and Nat, a lovely young married couple from southern Oregon, and my new connection to a world of Hawaiian-Polynesian slang. I was introduced to them by one of my PDX crew, Yolandar.

I may not have the right to say it because I can't even spell it, but I think I'm in love with the "Titta".

It's one of those words which burst from the teeth with affable enthusiasm, despite any negative connotation derived from the original definition.

As I understand it, 'Titta' is equivalent to a Polynesian Amazon. Like "Brick House" playing over footage of a strong broad-shouldered, black-haired woman in a mu mu. Yeah baby, work that pu pu.

You're supposed to say it only if you're already one of the gang, but I don't subscribe to exclusionary linguistics. I'll make my own definition -

All of my beautiful, strong, supportive sisters:
You my Tittas.

Welcome Home, My Pretties

2007-10-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

People begin blogging with the best of intentions: I will write every day; I will always be witty, humorous and profound; etc.

Yeah. Right. ...Only after I've had my coffee.

Despite being a severe introvert (well, at least until I make friends, I'm trying to get the word out and make connections. The goal is dissemination of information so you can discover some artist, event, band, store or lifestyle you wish you'd heard of years ago.

Personally, I can't wait to tell you what I've seen and who I've met.

10/6/07 - 10/8/07:
I'm with some of the gang in Portland, OR, and I hope to meet you there!

Welcome to my world...