1st in a new series: I Would Totally Be BFF With...

Mo Rocca.

Suddenly the Super Bowl Comes Alive

Leave it to Dave Barry to pick out and flick us the Booger News!!!

What I Did This Weekend.

A list of the things I did this weekend:

1. Washed windows.
2. Picked up dog poop.
3. Brushed dogs (Sounds easy? It takes and hour and a half for a collie and a half).
4. Finished a painting of a nutria.
5. Framed three other paintings and hung them.
6. Vacuumed.
7. Bought a mop.
8. Mopped.
9. Cleaned both bathrooms.
10. Bathed both dogs (who both hate baths).
11. Did laundry.
12. De-pilled my sweater.

A list of things Drew did this weekend.

1. Drove to the Mojave dessert with a friend.
2. Met his brother and brother-in-law.
3. Rode their dirt bikes all over the desert.
4. Camped out in the desert with a roaring fire.
5. Rode their birt bikes some more.
6. Ate barbeque.
7. Drove home.

Which list would I rather have done? The former (for you grammar-challenged, that's the first one). Not a dirt bike fan. Not a desert fan. Not a camping fan.

But don't you think Drew owes me anyway?

That's what I was thinking.

As Long As We're Sharing Humiliating Wedding Pictures...

Once upon a time, my grandma-in-law made us this wedding picture album. Yes, she was very proud of it. No, I don't think she meant it to look like a view through Cinderella's toilet seat or a hemorrhoid donut for virgins, but there it is. Yes, we still use it. It makes a great conversation piece.

The Face of Disapproval

You give the worst pedicures ever. You are fired.

Blood Money

I bought Annie a new slinky black collar today. Partly because she has a date with some elementary school kids on Thursday in her role as a Pet Facilitated Therapy dog, but mostly because I felt bad for cutting one of her nails too short this morning and making her bleed. I was wondering why she was resisting so hard after the first couple of nails, but then I noticed she was leaving little red dots on the carpet.

Oops.

At Least I Left the World a Happier Place Today.

As far as I know I do not look particularly funny. Well, not that funny. However, when I walk around the supermarket with a shopping basket in one hand and a mop in the other, I become hilarious to teenage girls.

Super for my self image.

You Sure You Don't Want To Play? 'Cause You Look Like You Do.

I'm just sayin.

Why Cahnt the English Lunn to Speak?

Why do I ask? Because once upon a time, Sade's record company wrote, for an English record release, that her name (shortened from her full name of Helen Folosade Adu) is pronounced "Shar-day," and to this day, Americans think that means that Sade's name is pronounced "Shar-day."

Which would seem logical, until you realize that in English talk, such an "r" is only there to change the "a" sound from something that sounds like "Sadie" to the sound in words like "the Shah of Iran." So saying something is pronounced "Shar-day" means, to the English ear, that it is pronounced "Shah-day." Damn English.

So Americans, say "Shah-day." I know nobody else plays Sade anymore so this point may seem a little late, but Drew does, so this is for Drew. And, ultimately, for me, because hearing "Shar-day" makes me grind my teeth.

Oh, and "Bowie" rhymes with "Joey."

In Case You Miss the Big State of the Union Speech Tonight

Here's the current Bush administration policy in a nutshell.

Doing My Bit For Citizen Power

I heard on a podcast today (probably Fair Game from PRI with Faith Salie, I wasn't paying that much attention while I raked old leaves and new dog poop) that the fair citizens of the blogosphere can affect brand names, both positively and negatively, by, you know, griping and stuff.

For instance, a blogger was actually sued recently by ABC for coming down hard on its hate-filled talk jocks on their San Francisco station KSFO (which used to be a good station back in the 80s), and getting a lot of attention for doing so (especially, satisfyingly, after ABC sued).

Another champion sentence for your diagramming pleasure. You're welcome.

In a reverse instance, a couple of jokesters made a song about how they enjoyed Chicken McNuggets into a YouTube favorite. Sweet free ad for McDonalds.

I feel obligated to contribute to this trend of citizen power.

Good Things:

Nike. I like their clothes. Can't really use their shoes. Their shoes are build for less retarded feet. I like their campus in Not Beaverton. I applied to work there once, but they didn't want me. So I guess they're not that great.

Horny Toad. Piglet Award for Best Clothing Company. Best place to buy your Horny Toads: Title Nine.

Trader Joes. Green attitude. Delicious hummus. Ready-made pizza dough. Cheap wine. Quality salsa. I could go on. Worst problem? I have to drive across town to get there. That's not so green, is it, Trader Joes? Get on it.

McMenamins brew pubs and brew cinemas. Good beer, I am told. Good wine. Cozy pubs, some in lovingly restored buildings that others had long abandoned. That's green and commendable. They also cook ahi tuna properly as long as you ask.

Bad Things.

Sony. Sony, I used to trust you. But lately your quality has gone to seed. Case in point: my lousy workout radio. A static-y battery sucker. Nearly unusable. Boo, Sony. Boo.

Whoever made those wine bottle stoppers we bought at Fred Meyer. They have already both broken. I will find out who you are and write you a nasty letter. Probably not.

Comcast. Who can pay these rates? They should not be able to charge whatever they want, and they should not get to be the only cable provider available to us. That is unamerican. We refuse to be held hostage. We are voting with our feet. Goodbye, Comcast.

Qwest. Who has the time to spend an hour and a half on the phone trying to find out if their price can beat Comcast? This is not an exaggeration. Drew spent one and one-half hours on the phone with someone who really did not know what the company had to offer, or how much it would cost. This is ridic. Do we have an option? Sure. Comcast.

Take back the streets! Well, take back Madison Avenue.

I feel empowered. Well, I would feel empowered if anybody read this. Chances are, Mr. Comcast does not get down this way very often.

Snow Day for Dogs

Scotty liked the snow up to the point where it started caking in his hairy, hairy feet until it hurt. He looks unhappy because I told him to sit without having any treats in my hand, which he resents and thoroughly disapproves of. The photo session went downhill from here.

Annie wants to know why, if they can land a man on the moon, they can't develop an indoor doggy toilet. Having to go outside in this sort of weather is barbaric.

Her words, not mine.

Diet Update

Ten pounds down, ten to go. Although the next ten will be slower, as I move to the second "phase" of this diet. (I won't reveal which one. It hardly needs more publicity. Let's just say it rhymes with "Mouth Peach.")

I rewarded myself this weekend with a jacket that I found on the clearance rack of a shop I would not normally go into (or that would normally allow me in), however Dean was leading the way and happened to know the salesperson on "duty" (duty limited to vicious asides re: hipness-challenged shoppers while chatting with the carefully chosen few who rate). I wondered how small their phones were.

BTW, if you need a $75 t-shirt, I know a place.

Snow Day

Portland and Vancouver are at standstills again on account of a couple inches of snow. I don't know how the Midwest does it. The roads get so dang slippery here, the news footage looks like something from Benny Hill. Cars boinking into objects, moving or stationary, all the way down hills like pinballs with a screamy soundtrack.

I suppose PNW cities just don't feel it necessary to stock and man the plows and sanding equipment necessary to clear every road in town when we know it will all be rained on the next day.

Just stay home and wait it out. Tomorrow everything will be back to the normal shade of grey.

My family is blessed with many talents.

A command of the dance floor is one of many. Here are my sister and brother demonstrating the family moves in our swank hilltop estate, circa nineteen sixty-something.

No, I Didn't Watch the Game.

I was convinced the Seahawks were going to lose. I think God was probably convinced they were going to lose.

Sorry about that bobbled field goal set-up there, Mr. Romo. Try not to think about it. Or dream about it. All off-season.

Laces out, Tony!

Sorry, trying to be helpful.

Fair Warning.

It's January and that means diet time.

This time I'm serious. My blood pressure and my weight seem to be in a race for top number, so I'm hoping to put both in reverse for a while.

Diets take all the jolly right out of me, so you might want to smile and nod when I start contemplating the pros and cons of carrying out citizen's arrests using deadly force on thoughtless parking lot drivers.

Hey, you might not have felt the need to stop at that ever-so-inconvenient cross walk in front of the library when no one was looking, but when a mother and toddler are trying to get across, you better, by George Michael, stop. Because next time I'm coming at you with a kiddie badge, low blood sugar, and a sharpened piece of bok choy, and you're going down.

You know who you are.

Low blood sugar makes some people sleepy. It's just making me angry.

Just so you know.