Archive | October, 2007

Pumpkin-flesh-eating pumpkin.

31 Oct


I will build up excitement with a before picture. The carving took place at my friend Shawn’s house. Notice the glass of kahlua milk. It was doled out to all carvers to loosen up their knife-hands.


This pumpkin is about to get gutted and he knows it.

If I lose this pumpkin-carving throw-down, it’s because I’m a crappy photographer. My camera died as I was trying to capture this terrifying scene. What’s going on here? Carnivorous right pumpkin took a bite out of left pumpkin and he’s munching on his brains. And his eye is dangling from its socket. Left pumpkin is visibly miffed at being chomped on and his brains are coming out of his head hole. I don’t know why I carved two one-eyed pumpkins. Much scarier without the flash, right?


I am also linking to Shawn’s pumpkin on the condition that she can’t win because she doesn’t have a blog. I should have had her take pictures of mine.


Essay Tuesday: please bury me with…

30 Oct


my size 10 AA hiking boots.* Here they are ready to go snow-shoeing.


And here they are just looking awesome.


These boots are my favorite possession for three reasons.**

1. They fit like they were made just for me by tiny shoe elves. They transform my absurdly long, narrow, flat feet into sturdy, athletic feet.

2. I move a lot and most of my stuff is just stuff I keep hauling around, but my boots don’t weigh me down. If my apartment was hit by the arson, I wouldn’t be too upset about losing everything as long as I was wearing my boots while I watched it burn.

3. I’ve had them for about 5 years and I have good memories of being in them.

*first photo taken by Haskell

**This week’s topic is “what’s your favorite possession,” not “what’s your favorite position” which is what I heard the first time. Now that I’m all excited about my boots, if I had to write about my favorite position I would probably take a picture of me in my bed with my boots on.

No contest.

26 Oct

I’m off to vote this guy for Iowa City Council. Not only does he have a well-designed blog full of smart, sensible ideas in candid-sounding prose, he’s the only candidate with any decent content on the web. I did not enjoy the flashing text on Matt Hayek’s crappy website. (One of the things Hayek lists as qualifying him to be my community leader is that he once saved a man’s life with CPR. That’s just melodramatic. I do have a fear of choking so he might have won me over with the Heimlich maneuver.)

AND on his issues page, other candidate Terry Smith includes both a link to the site that supports the initiative banning the under 21 crowd from bars and the site against it. Perhaps he just wants me to educate myself about this ballot thing before I vote, but I won’t stand for his flip-floppy tactics (nor teenagers in the bars).

So if you’re against crappy site design and you don’t mind intellectual freedom, libraries, or candid rhetoric, vote for Mike Wright!

Edited to add:


My people… are a few days late.

26 Oct

I realize I missed the bus on Essay Tuesday, but I also screwed up Sweater Thursday and because I want to encourage this brilliant idea I’m posting anyway. This week’s topic was “who are my people?” When I thought about this question I realized I couldn’t ignore the fact that I’ve been told by more than one person about more than one crowd that my friends are kind of mean. That’s not true. They are not mean-spirited. Maybe a little merciless, irreverent, intense. But then again I suppose I can tell who my people are in a crowd because we’re not the ones crying. I’m kind of joking. So, as assigned by 11Frogs:

Who are my people?

If there’s a word that doesn’t describe my people, it’s martyr, but they aren’t assholes either. They are a little punchy. Sometimes my people say things that get them horrified looks from people who aren’t my people. That’s because nothing is sacred to my people, except maybe cheese, and they are willing to risk ire and dignity, yours included, to be funny. My people like to try new things, especially foods, and their threshold for excitement is pretty low; everything is an event. A game of Pictionary. A breakfast sandwich. Wearing slippers. International travel. Call it a zest for life. Consequently, dancing comes naturally to my people; even if they’re no good, they can’t help themselves. My people are critical readers, a little cynical, but rarely brooding. If you cross my people and even if you don’t, there’s a good chance you’ll get tackled but there won’t be any hard feelings later. They pack their snowballs tight and they throw them hard. If they haven’t already, they’re going to smack your ass. And they want you to smack them back.

My people should definitely go cabin-camping this winter…

Whitney doesn’t know the answer.

26 Oct

Another challenge for you, courtesy of my newly-knighted brother in law Tony:

“What 6-letter word’s meaning completely changes when its first letter is capitalized?”

I already ran this by Whitney but he was more interested in going into a bar than talking on the phone. I’m stumped.

Do chickens have knees?

24 Oct


I created this little guy in class tonight and I wanted to share him with you. I call him pirate chicken mug. I think he would look pretty mean on a pumpkin.

Speaking of mean pumpkin carving, consider yourself officially challenged to a jack-o-lantern contest. All carved pumpkins should be revealed on Halloween Day. There are no rules except that the pumpkin has to be real. Should we have a theme? That might be too constricting, but I think we are creative people and we could all do great things with “sex on a pumpkin” or “zombies and babies.” What do you think?

(I finally have a trickling creek of a wireless connection in my own home now so you can look forward to more frequent high-quality posts like this one, especially when I have more important things to do.)

Edited to add: Courtesy of BoingBoing, here is a link to an ill-titled cookbook. It makes me LOL.


24 Oct

I just realized that it’s only Wednesday. I’m glad because that means my paper is due today, not yesterday, but I revealed my sweater a day too soon. Don’t worry, I’ll wear another one tomorrow. Maybe the same one.