Disclaimer: Some content is inappropriate for readers under 18 years of age or those offended by swear words, references to sexuality, atheism, and libertarianism.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

World's Oldest Jokes

My personal favourite amongst these ancient thigh slappers is this one:

"What hangs at a man's thigh and wants to poke the hole that it's often poked before? Answer: A key."

Nothing like good old 10th century Anglo-Saxon sexual innuendo. I laughed. Just goes to show how far I've evolved as a sophisticated 21st century woman.

Mahna Mahna Redux

I thought this was awfully cute.

Alice in Wonderland Porn

Setting aside suppositions of Lewis Carroll's inappropriate attraction to little girls, Alice in Wonderland has, more than once, inspired dirty incarnations of itself.

Thanks to the vast uselessness of the internet, I have discovered the existence of Alice in Wonderland the porno musical comedy. Something for everyone. We found a few clips on Youtube, so these clips don't actually include any visible rude bits, but you can pretty much guess what may happen next. It may still offend delicate sensibilities and isn't really safe for work, so don't say I didn't warn you.

It looks to be a lot more lighthearted than the Alan Moore collection of graphic novels, Lost Girls. God that was depressing. In case you haven't heard about it, it's the story of the grown up Dorothy, Wendy, and Alice of Oz, Neverland, and Wonderland respectively who meet up in a rather debauched hotel that hosts a fair number of orgies of very broken, sad people. The women share stories of their sexual awakenings, which rather controversially took place during their childhoods. It's not for everyone, and is quite disturbing, so don't say I didn't warn you should you be curious enough to pick it up. It's an exploration of dark erotic fantasies that arouse some and damage others, sometimes achieving both effects on the same individual within the context of the tale. Only Alan Moore would tackle a subject as dangerous as that. Despite his looking like a Charlie Manson follower, he's probably loads of fun down the pub.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Photos from my Trip

Einstein Memorial

My daughter sat on a Goldfish Cracker. We laughed.

Left at the Vietnam War Memorial

All the time I was around Honest Abe, a song from Hair kept running through my head.

Korean War Memorial

Korean War Memorial. Not only do the faces of the dead peer out at you from the wall, but the reflections of the statues looked like ghosts. Very sad and eerie.

Part of the WWII Memorial

Part of the WWII Memorial

A statue outside the Red Cross building... I think

Same statue

Lion statue outside an art musem

Sun flowers at Eastern Market

On the grounds of the Smithsonian art museums

An enormous erection made by men. Also known as the Washington Monument

The serene looking Capitol building beyond the hustling city streets
The White House

A lazy ass squirrel that was splayed out on a tree brach outside the White House

Andrew Jackson in front of the White House

Look! Up in the air! It's a bird! It's a plane! No... It's... Super Grover!

Everyone's favorite Grouch

Cookies at a whimsical little place we stopped at in Pennsylvania

A mural across the street from said cookie store


We got back from our vacation to DC and beyond yesterday and now I'm recovering. The highlights include:

  • Taking my two year old daughter to Sesame Place and having her ask me to go on this ride. She wasn't frightened until it reached the peek and then plummeted... Then rose again, then dropped again... Over and over. I felt so awful hearing her scream. "I don' like it! I don' like it!" But when it was over, she tried to save face by shouted "Yaaay!" My husband said "Yay? Was that cool?", to which she responded "Yeaaah!" "Do you want to go on it again?" She paused and quietly said "No."

  • Seeing the Jim Henson exhibit. They had more samples of hand written notes, storyboards, sketches, paintings, prints and ideas left undeveloped than actual puppets. They did have the original Snowths and a later reproduction of the original Mahna Mahna guy. They had a lot on his early years as a maker of charming little commercials, such as Wilkins and Wontkins, which almost invariable involve explosions. Apparently they were pretty innovative in terms of exploring the entertainment value of a well done advertisement. Once they realized that the short, snazzy format of commercials appealed greatly to kids, this led to the basic structure of Sesame Street. Which, of course, parents later complained about saying that it caused their kids to acquire Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
  • The exhibit also included a lot of little film clips of interviews, sketches, bits of his short movies and one of them included clips of his kids' shows and my daughter made a delightful spectacle of herself at that one. When the good old fashioned Sesame Street theme song came on (not the newer version which hurts my brain), she promptly abandoned her seat and danced. The Muppet Show came on, and once again she leapt up and danced, shouting out "KERMIT! FOZZIE! GONZO!" When Fraggle Rock came on, however, she went all out. She clapped at the appropriate times ("Dance your cares away *clap clap* etc.) and I heard a parent turn to her spouse and say "Boy, she likes her Fraggle Rock." Her own kid hadn't even heard of Fraggle Rock. While that won't get me parenting awards, I felt pleased.

  • Getting a 4 star room for $80 a night thanks to Hotwire.

  • The free museums. Museums rock. Free ones rock even more so when you've got a toddler and you don't know if she'll last too long and the prospect of paying for entry is daunting.

  • Seeing the Washington Monument, WWII memorial, Korean War memorial, Lincoln Monument, Vietnam War memorial, Albert Einstein monument, White House, and other fantastic structures. I may not know much about architecture, but I can appreciate it.

  • Seeing my two year hold up her index and little finger and saying "Sign of the debil" All thanks to daddy, of course. You're explaining that one to daycare, darling.

  • Trying tripe stew. Unidentifiable bits of cow in a mild curry? Perfect. I also enjoyed She-crab soup, but was disappointed that "scrapple" wasn't available at some place we stopped off at on our way home. It appeals to my sense of "waste not, want not". I also agree with Anthony Bourdain that often food that is born out of necessity can often prove to be quite delightful and robust.

  • One thing I didn't find funny, but must mention, was some poor lady who was on a Segway tour of DC. She started to falter as the whole group turned in front of the White House and she seemed unable to do so, so her husband reached out, presumably to help her turn, but instead succeeded in completely unbalancing her. She fell and her helmet cracked against the floor with such force I was amazed to see she hadn't lost consciousness. Had she not been wearing the helmet, I'm fairly confident it would have looked like a stunt from a Gallagher show. I felt bad for the poor lady. I'm hoping the only thing really damaged was the promotion of Segway tours.

Anyway, I must catch up on my TV shows now, so if you'll excuse me, I'm predicting Mark will be the next guy booted off of So You Think You Can Dance. Yes, we watch that show. I have no shame.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Cookie Scandals

Since I'm on a Sesame Street kick this week, I thought I'd just add to it...

Cookiegate Scandal... Did Cookie Monster eat Gordon and Susan's Cookies? It's not as funny as it could have been, but it's Jim Henson and Frank Oz...

NOTE: I will fix this broken link when time permits... I'm on vacation right now!

Colbert Report on why Cookie has wimped out on being a TRUE 'Cookie' Monster. Not Frank Oz playing Cookie. Most likely David Rudman.

Friday, July 18, 2008


I'm feeling a little nervous about the approaching new school year... Normally I'm quite excited to get to know my new students and figure out new ways of meeting their unique needs and how things are going to go with yet another new administrator peering over my head (hence my choice in the above Dilbert cartoon by Scott Adams), but this year I'm nervous.
Having heard that my druggie kid for next year has told one of my students from the past year that he was going to "fuck" me, I'm dreading yet another year of dealing with that kind of crap over actual teaching. Every year, I get at least one drug dealer and one drug user. The drug users are just sad, pitiful kids who fail and fail or else have their habits somewhat under control and just glide through the year with barely passing grades. The dealers, on the other hand, are sneaky buggers who have figured out how to escape getting busted not just in their dealing, but their copying homework, tests, getting girls pregnant and denying responsibility, beating up other kids, whatever. They end up sapping all of my time and energy trying to keep them within a five mile radius of the "right track" and I end up neglecting the kids who actually have disabilities beyond just having shitty home lives. Sadly, at some point a teacher felt sorry for his having a shitty home life and subsequent failing grades that they convinced everyone that the kid must have a learning disability of some sort. I'd go so far as to say that in my experience, I've had more kids end up on my caseload due to bad parenting than any other reason. Parents who do drugs, thieve, kill, and rape don't tend to produce kids who do very well at school and it has little to do with the child's actual ability. The kids may very well have been born with average abilities, but years of abuse or neglect can actually lower a kids ability range into a special needs category. Preventable and sad.
Every year, I make the choice to work with kids who come from troubled backgrounds because I love them to bits, but I despair at the realization that I'm no longer a teacher, but more a parole officer and substitute mother and feel ill-equipped to help them with their insurmountable problems. How do you fight a beast like this?
I feel like a hospice worker. I make these kids comfortable for a little bit longer before they either drop out or graduate and the big bad world bites them in the ass because they've not learned the skills to be decent employees anywhere. This problem is enormous. It's huge. And I can't wait to see what ideas my next new boss comes up with to get these kids to pass the damn standardized test. I'm sure whatever it is, it'll work a treat.
The good news is that once I'm in it, I put my heart and soul into it and do everything I can to do right by "my" kids, but it doesn't stop my wondering what's going to become of some of them a few more years down the road.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Destination: Washington DC.

We're shoving off our caravan over to Washington DC next week and I want to know if anyone can suggest fantastic places we really should see/eat at...? I LOVE trying food everywhere I go, and it doesn't have to be Michelin star stuff... Street food in the right places can be heaven (God knows, that one guy back home could make the best shawarmas.)
I also can't wait to see the Jim Henson exhibit there! I'm seriously excited by the idea!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Meet the Jetsons

My TiVo (technically, it died and we had to get a Direct TV DVR which doesn't rock quite as hard as our old TiVo which still has a bunch of shows on it we're working our way through, but it's still in my heart)

My Roomba (which also technically died, but that's kinda my fault. Too many damn cats and dogs. I choked it to death). How cool is it that the manufacturing company is called irobot? Isaac would be proud. I may have to invest in their newer pet hair model... Hm...

My Sony e-Reader. I'm currently burning my way through Ken Follett's World Without End. I do love good old fashioned books, but this one thin portable object is currently holding hundreds of pieces of fine literature and is saving me on valuable shelf space, which I no longer have.

My new jacuzzi. It has LED lights that glow through a spectrum of colors. The jets are exciting too.

My Skype. Free web cam calls home? You betcha!

My D-Link 520. We stream downloaded movies, old time radio shows, podcasts, videocasts etc. to either our bedroom TV or our 65 inch TV in the living room.

My 65 inch TV in the living room.

My Litter Robot. It looks like a mini cement mixer, especially when the spherical chamber bit turns to drop all the lumpy bits of clumping litter into the tray below. I loved this thing until it started experiencing technical difficulties and loved it a little less when it freaked out my big fat cat who must fear getting stuck in it because he started pooing right in front of it in protest until we brought back the old fashioned kitty litters again. Bastard.

My MP3 Player. It's not an i-Pod. I'm not cool like that, but it's 30 gigs of greatness.

I'm still waiting for my flying car, or at least a Hoverboard (McFly?!)... Ah well. I'm appreciating every bit of luxury. Now if you'll excuse me, the jacuzzi is calling my name...

Friday, July 11, 2008

Stupid Joke.

My husband heard this joke on the Dawn and Drew Show, a podcast hosted by a married couple who crack us both up. Anyway, for the joke to work, it's best if you say the punch line out loud and with a sort of nasal twang to it. Okay, here goes...

What are the two sexiest animals on a farm?

Brown chicken, brown cow.

I told you it was stupid. It makes me laugh every time.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Please Supervise Your Brat So I Don't Hafta Smack Him Upside the Head.

It's no coincidence that the kids who act the shittiest in play areas are the ones whose parents just dump them there and go off to do their own thing or go sit where they can't see their kids.

Granted, I often feel like a bit of a mother hen hovering over my daughter as she plays, but it gives me the invaluable opportunity to do a number of things: Watch my little one play and explore her world, give her praise when she shares/takes turns/doesn't cry when some snot steals her toy, help her up when she gets knocked over by said snot, and be involved in her childhood as an active participant, as opposed to the "potted plant" approach of letting the kid grow in the corner of the house somewhere and never pay her any attention beyond nourishing it and making sure the cats haven't used her as a kitty litter again. Should she ever be rude to another kid, it's also a chance for me to help her do the right thing. The bad thing is, I get to see other people's kids act like complete dickheads and I never know quite how to react.

I freaking hate it when there is a height limit for a play area and you've got these enormous kids, usually hyperactive boys, who go tearing around the tiny place like jet powered steam rollers and give you a million heart attacks with their near misses to your own little one until finally they do run right smack into your little peanut and make her cry. I do the "looking around for the parent" thing, but quickly learn that the sign directing parents to not leave their children unattended is option for those parents with the IQ of a mongoose.

Today, I took said peanut to the museum and she was greatly looking forward to her favorite bit where she gets to play with the sand table in the toddler area. If that's not a genetic predisposition, I don't know what is. Anyway, we get to the table and most of the sand is gone. Usually some gets spilled on the floor, but this was ridiculous. I've had more sand in my ass crack on trips home from the beach than there was on the table. And then I figured it out. Two boys, who were either 7 years old or suffering from gigantism, had taken it upon themselves to pile as much of the sand into their wheelbarrow as possible. Fine. I scraped together a sad little pile of sand for my daughter to play with so she reached for a shovel. One of the boys swept in and grabbed it first. So she reached for another. He grabbed that too. I watched this go on for a few moments longer as he made it clear that anything she reached for was, in fact, something he was just about to play with and had intended to play with way before she thought of it herself. It broke my heart to be a witness to such sad patience from my little one who could tell what was going on, even at her young age, and to such asshole-ish behavior from the boys.

"Wait a minute, baby girl. The big boy is going to give you THAT BLUE SHOVEL RIGHT THERE and LET YOU TAKE SOME OF THE SAND to play with." I cheated really by using my teacher tone. It's sort of like using the Force, really. "These aren't the shovels you're looking for, so fucking MOVE ALONG you little shits."

Okay, so I didn't say the last part because the Star Wars reference would have totally been lost on the pair of them so why bother...? Needless to say, she got to play with her sand. And not only that, but she went over to a little baby boy who dropped a ball he was playing with and gave it back to him, got herself a ball, and then gave it to him as well when she'd finished playing with it.

That's my girl.

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Artists of Mixed Heritages

I LOVE this post from Confessions of a Funky Ghetto Hijabi about artists of mixed races. It was so interesting to see what these people's heritages are... I appreciate Sudanese Thinker for posting a link to it on his blog, otherwise I would never have seen it.

What In the Name of All That is Good...?

What the FUCK is wrong with people? Not only did the hospital staff not give a shit about this poor woman writhing on the floor until she was dead an hour later, but the other people sitting nearby didn't do a damn thing to check on her either. If I were her family, I would track down everyone who saw her and did nothing and scream at them for what they did in front of their entire families, colleagues, and preferably the press too. And you can be damn sure I wouldn't blur out their shameless faces either. Bastards. (Article here)

I guess the ONLY reason I can possibly imagine that made people avoid helping her out was that it was a psychiatric hospital emergency room and perhaps the other patients were too mentally unstable to do anything or else thought she was unstable herself, but that doesn't excuse the staff from not recognizing her safety concerns.

If they are truly responsible, I hope they have nightmares about Esmin Green for the rest of their lives.