Things that Make You Go Hmmmmm...

This fellow, an untitled sculpture by artist Ron Mueck, lives at the Smithsonian's Hirshhorn Museum in Washington.

He's fondly referred to as the "Big Man."

I'll let you draw your own conclusions on that one.

All I will say is that this is one of the most lifelike sculptures I've ever seen.

It really does make you take pause. And stare in astonishment...and appreciation of artistic genius.

Beauty...and the Hairy Dude with a Big Gun

When I was young kid back in the 1970s, my Barbies wouldn't dream of going out with my next door neighbor's G.I. Joe. The guy was far too hairy, almost apelike...and let's face it, he had a huge scar on his face. And, he probably needed a bath.

Vintage Barbie at the Smithsonian's American History Museum seems to feel the same way. You can just tell she isn't too keen on sharing such close quarters with the beast next to her. Far too uncultured...far too rough and tumble for a lady as she deems herself to be.

She'd rather that Dream Date Ken hurried along to pick her up for the big beach party. Pronto!

All You Can Eat

Apparently these folks took that quite seriously at the local CiCi's pizza.

And, they don't like their crusts -- or pizza bones, as my friend Ty's family calls them -- as evidenced by the huge plate of discards.

I'm a bit disappointed that their eyes were bigger than their stomachs. Check out all the leftover full slices.

Shame on them. That would have been more for me...I hope none of it was Buffalo Chicken...my particular fave.

Actually I'm still recovering from this outing -- I was nearly killed by two women who were rushing the brownie tray as I waited patiently in line.

I didn't know pizza buffets were a contact sport!

A Healthy Glow...

For those moments when you're unable to gain the special flush that nature provides.

Courtesy of NARS Cosmetics...at a Sephora near you.

No advertising fees exchanged hands for this plug.

I just really dig the clever names...and the glow provided.

And They Called It "Puppy Love..."

Or in this case, c. 2009, it would be more like smelly geriatric dog love.

I thought Donny Osmond's heydey ended with the opening of his and Marie's film debut, "Goin' Coconuts," in 1978.

Oh wait...he did have that catchy "Soldier of Love" single back in '89.

Um...yeah...20 years ago.

Point made.

How Dick's Sporting Goods Got Its Name...

The secret's out...isn't it?

I guess it's a new "roots" marketing campaign in action.

Pearus Erectus...Redux

Yes, folks, it's true.

Lightening, or in this case a phenomenally coincidentally sliced pear core, can strike twice in a lifetime.

This time I left it in the slicer to say ha ha ha to those naysayers who claimed I faked the last one.

(see January 2008 archives)

Let's get one thing straight...

I never fake!

Chicken Sandwich...In Peril

A classic scene of good vs. evil.

Dog. Boy. Chicken Sandwich.

The story writes itself...almost.

Boy was too smart for the dog...this time.

But not a few days later...not with breakfast sausage involved.

Caption Free For All!

Here's the shot:


Now go on...add a caption in the comments section. I want to see how clever my readers really are.

Disclaimer: No prizes awarded other than the pure satisfaction of showcasing your wit to the rest of cyberspace via this humble blog.

My Mantra...

This mug, one of my favorites of all times (thanks, Karen!) pretty much sums me up.

I try. I make an effort.

It never quite works. Almost. But not quite.

The story of my life. LOL!

A New Look for Spring?

So...what do you think?

Is it me?

Should I make it part of my everyday style?

Can't decide if I'm channeling Foxxy Brown or Little Orphan Annie.

Hmmm...I think I now have a few ideas for Halloween '09.

Worst Job Ever -- Part Three...

Once again...someone in a costume, hawking something for a business.

This one is bad. It's at night. It's not summer. And...the most disturbing aspect...it's a clown.

Who in their right mind thinks a CLOWN would draw in business.

I bet I'm not the only one who runs the other direction when they see a clown.

Not the most welcoming marketing technique. Maybe it's just me, though....

Does Not Compute

After a brief sabbatical, I'm back.
And figured my return required a photo that will make you scratch your head and wonder, "WTF?!?!

It's an unlikely trio. A wayward Red Velvet cupcake, lost in a sea of reuben dip inside a Crock Pot...accented by a chocolate toffee martini.

At 1 a.m.

Talk about a non sequitar.

I'm back. And weirder than usual.

'Tis the Season

For...

YELLOW SNOW!

Grossssssss......

'Nuff said.

The Porch Pig

In more than one blog entry over the past year, I have poked fun of statuary depicting animals as people.

Now...I am a proud owner of such an object d'art, thanks to my dear friends, Steve and Jarvis.

They trash picked this little gem for me. I am so touched.

I know own a pig wearing chef's clothes. And he's on my front porch for the world to enjoy.

Can it get any better?

Guess Who Came to Christmas Dinner..

This, er, um, attractive lady.

My friend and neighbor Lisa just sent me this pic. Apparently her friend's husband collects these "people" and decorates with them on a seasonal basis.

This particular woman sits at their dining room table during the holidays. Others stand sentinel in other rooms of the house.

And, apparently, come summer, another "old lady" and her bikini-clad friend catch rays by the couple's pool.

I can see another blog in the works in about six months. Can't you?

Restaurant Love

Call me a curmudegeon or an anti-romantic soul or what you may, but I hate watching people intimately caress and fondle one another in public. Especially when I'm trying to eat.

This couple was all over each other last night at dinner. Or rather she was all over him. She was rubbing his head. Toying with his ear. Caressing his shoulder. Sliding her hand up and down his back. Stroking his cheek. Giving him little kisses. She would take a bite of food and get right back to it.

They might have done better with a private room and room service than a Saturday night out with friends, whom, I might add, weren't the rampant PDA sort.

I wonder what they thought about the whole over-the-top display?

For the Hopeless Slackass...

For the fisherman, boaters and swimmers who can't manage to wade over to the boat or to shore to enjoy a tall cold one.

The BIG BOBBER.

Cheesy name. Cheesy design. And...IT FLOATS, delivering the promise that your Bud Lights won't sink while you're hoping to make that big catch.

For some reason, I find all of this hilarious.

Although I do know a few people who probably wish they had one.

Sham Wow! Sham Now!

Ok...for months I've watched that weird, Bill The Cat-like guy pushing those magic Sham Wow cloths on TV and have wondered who would buy them.

Now I know. Mary. My best friend since the 8th grade.

Today, while we were perusing Bed Bath & Beyond, we started mocking the Sham Wow guy. And then, before I knew it, she tossed a box in her cart.

I figured I should memorialize the special moment.

I ain't never seen no one buy themselfs a Sham Wow before...

Oh and can anyone explain why this guy always has on his wireless mic? Even on the box?

Nap Time

Oh to be young and carefree again...so carefree that I wouldn't care if I caught up on a few missing Zzzzzs in public. Say, in the orthopedic surgeon's waiting room?

And when I say Zzzzzs, I'm not joking. This kid could probably win a pro snoring competition. Seriously.

In retrospect, I wish I had used the camcorder setting on the phone so ya'll could enjoy the full experience of the moment...with the appropriate soundtrack.

It would have added a new dimension to this post...and this humble blog.

Hmmm...not a bad idea for future consideration. Not bad at all...

Taking a RISK...and Failing. Miserably.

I never have played RISK before...never. Not once.

Neither had Evan until he got the game for Christmas.

You would think that would put the two of us on a level playing field against Scott, as seasoned RISK veteran.

Nope.

Look at my paltry presence in New Guinea and Australia. And look at Evan's juggernaut. Yes, the inevitable happened.

It also happened to my weak, but definite, stronghold in North America courtesy of Scott.

I was out of the game in less than 30 minutes.

I think I will stick to Scrabble from now on.

Slippery When Wet...

Other than a mid-1980s dalliance with the "Sweet Dreams" teen series of romance novels, I have never been a fan of the genre, neither the "historical"bodice rippers nor the more hip, modern versions that feature lascivious hunks with vastly unbuttoned shirts and oiled, ripped chests on the front covers, tempting lovelorn women to pick them up and live out their wildest fantasies. Yeah. Right.

I will confess, however, that I am perpetually intrigued with said covers and the titles. The artwork absolutely slays me, and it amazes me how similar the titles (and the plots outlined on the back cover) are to one another.

I mean how many contemporary romance novels out there are about sweet young things falling hard for a race car driver? Almost every other one I pick up (the others are about firefighters or handsome young doctors.)

How many women actually meet a hot race car driver and fall for him? Oh wait, I should ask one of my distant cousins. She dumped her husband in purusit of a married driver. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up. At least not in my family.

Guess What This Is!

Everyone's favorite game --- guess what the dubious-looking item I am holding is and how it is used!

Women love it. It's supposed to be the best of its kind for a real-world budget. Highly recommended in fashion and beauty publications.

Any suggestions? Any at all?

Give up?

It's a makeup application sponge from Target's Sonia Kashuk line.

What on earth did YOU think it was?!?!?!

The Writing's on the Wall

I wandered into a ladies' room stall at the Crocker Park Regal Cinema this evening and immediately noticed something unusual.

No, all you gross people out there, it wasn't a full, unflushed bowl. Shame on you for even thinking that!

It was this slip of paper -- 8.5" wide, 4 or 5" high. Pasted to the stall divider in the small space between the back end of the toilet paper holder and the wall.

It boasted a man's face and handwritten scrawl. I can't remember the prose exactly, and my crappy camera phone (and hasty shot) as there was a line of angry women needing to pee outside the door didn't do justice to this, but it said something to the effect of this:

"I can wine and dine you but I am not looking for a commitment."

Not Looking and Commitment were heavily underlined.

It then gives this guy's name, which I'll leave out for some semblance of privacy. His age range (45-60) and then little tear off strips with his phone number. (I didn't take one....no one else had either...at least not in the stall I chose).

I have, since then...however, pondered who might have posted this? An ex wife? A jilted lover? An enraged teenage daughter?

Who wants revenge with this man? And I wonder how many calls he will get from women who want to be wined and dined without commitment as I gleefully play the scenarios over and over in my head. Hee hee.