So, a couple of weeks

So, a couple of weeks ago, when I coined the phrase "Llamalanche" I
received a very nice email from Steve-o in reply. I told him in the
email that I sincerely thought that, in terms of blog powerhouse
status, they were on the bubble and that pretty soon everyone would be
bowing down and paying homage to them.
Turns out I was right.

Why, you ask, are they successful? Well, it's because they put out posts like this, this, this and this. They're all good. Go and read them.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:58 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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That must have been one

That must have been one really boring video.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:50 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The patient, in this case,

The patient, in this case, would be Sean Penn.

President Bush isn̢۪t the only one upset with South Park
creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone over their new puppet film, Team
America: World Police.
Oscar winner Sean Penn apparently wrote an angry letter to the comedy
duo after they made fun of Sean ‘P Diddy’ Combs’ Vote Or Die
campaign to persuade US youngsters to vote in next month̢۪s
presidential election.
He was infuriated at Stone̢۪s theory that America might elect better
leaders if lazy, apathetic voters stayed at home and didn̢۪t bother to
vote.
In the letter – said to have left the comic writers “howling with
laughter” - Penn wrote: “I remember a cordial hello when you guys
were beginning to be famous guys around Hollywood. I remember several
times getting a few giggles out of your humour.
“I remember not being bothered as you traded on my name among others
to appear witty. I never mind being of service in satire and silliness.
“I do mind when anybody who doesn’t have a child, doesn’t have a
child at war, or isn̢۪t or won̢۪t be in harm̢۪s way themselves is
saying that ̢۪there is no shame in not voting if you don̢۪t know what
you are talking about̢۪.
“You guys are talented young guys, but alas, primarily young guys.
It’s all well to joke about me or whomever you choose. “Not so well
to encourage irresponsibility that will ultimately lead to the
disembowelment, mutilation, exploitation and death of innocent people
around the world.
“The vote matters to them. No one’s ignorance, including a couple
of hip cross-dressers’, is an excuse.”

Christ. How dumb can you be, Penn? Lighten the fuck up, would you? No
one with any sense is going to take what these guys have to say about
politics seriously. Methinks you're overestimating the power of
celebrity and its "role" in shaping public policy. On the bright side,
look for a new South Park that viciously mocks Sean Penn soon!

Posted by: Kathy at 10:42 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Some germy bastard gave me

Some germy bastard gave me a cold.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:28 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A New Age of Reason

A New Age of Reason (click for bigger)

Posted by: Kathy at 10:27 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Welcome to Historic Fort Leavenworth,

Welcome to Historic Fort Leavenworth, Mr. Frederick. We hope your stay here will be an enjoyable one.

Posted by: Kathy at 10:12 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I'm not taking a picture

I'm not taking a picture of this one, even though I wouldn't have to
move an inch to do so, so I'll simply describe the situation.
Living on the second floor, you wouldn't think we'd get a lot of
"nature"---birds aside---this high up from the ground. But we do. The
main reason for this is because whomever planted the three pine trees
that reside outside my office window, didn't realize that planting them
less than four feet away from the house was, perhaps, a bad
idea. As a result of the trees' proximity to my window, I get the daily
joy of squirrels racing their way up the tree and parking their fat
asses on a branch that, were there not a screen on said window, I could
reach out and touch.
Now the squirrels can be fun to watch. I enjoy it when a fight
breaks out between two of them this high up from the ground. They leap
from branch to branch, darting and dodging, lauching the occasional
Kung Fu assault, making the whole endeavor seem less like a squirrel
fight and more like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It's good
fun, and for the money, the squirrel action is better than a Jet Li
movie. But most of the time, the squirrels climb up the tree and park
themselves on the branch whilst concentrating on giving me the evil
eye. This, understandably, can be somewhat disconcerting.
Today, however, it's neither entertaining nor disconcerting. It's
gross. A squirrel has parked his ever-widening, acorn fed ass on the
branch and is currently licking his privates.

I really don't need to see this first thing in the morning. I really, really don't.

Now, aren't you glad I didn't take a picture?

Posted by: Kathy at 09:59 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I present for you, my

I present for you, my fellow Pride and Prejudice nutjobs, your new Darcy.


That's
Matthew MacFayden. I'm sure everyone who's watched BBC America has seen
this guy more than a few times. I know I have. He also played the
horribly disfigured naval officer, Cave, in Enigma.
But you didn't know his name, did you? Well, you do now. And I have to
tell you, I don't think this is a bit of inspired casting: I think it's
lame. This guy is not Darcy. He's good, don't get me wrong. He won't
embarrass himself or me. But he's just not Darcy. The only
conceivable scenario for this guy play Darcy is if he were the fourth
or fifth understudy and everyone ranked above him caught a virulent
case of food posioning when they partook of a communal curry.
Particularly when compared to this guy.



Sigh. Ain't he just a dream? And worth ten thousand a year, too. I
suppose the thing that MacFayden is missing is the "hunk of burning
love" factor. I simply cannot picture him jumping into a pond to cool
off after a hot, long ride, then walking up to Pemberley, being
surprised by Miss Bennet and the Gardiners and managing to pull off the
charming awkwardness of the situation. That and have every female not
only rooting for him, but lusting after his wet bod in the meanwhile.
Most Austen males have some point in the movie where they get to be
dashing and heroic. Think of Willoughby in Sense and Sensibility,
carrying an incapacitated Marianne back to the cottage in the pouring
rain and I think you'll get what I'm driving at. Well, Darcy, despite
his Herculean task of bringing Wickham to the altar, is always dashing.
He just has that thing going on for him. To my mind, at least, it's
where he doesn't have a clue that he's at his most admirable. And
adorable. I just can't see Mac Fayden pulling that off.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:41 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Hey kids! What the heck

Hey kids! What the heck is going on?
Yeah. It's me. Checking in with y'all before I start packing it all up
for our flight back to the People's Republic of Minnesota later today.
The wedding went off without a hitch on Friday. Well, I shouldn't say
without a hitch, because there was a hitch---as in the groom got stuck
in construction-induced traffic and arrived at the church about an hour
and a half later than he was supposed to be there for pictures. This
was after he was almost dropped his truck off at the wrong hotel.
Understandably, it was a little tense, but Brad eventually showed up,
and all was well with the world. I've never seen a groom enjoy his own
wedding more. He was Mr. Happy throughout the ceremony and that was
nice. Margo, his bride, was cool as a cucumber---a weepy cucumber, but
she was cool nonetheless. And she was also gorgeous, too. So, they're
hitched. They're happy. We're happy, and we're getting the hell out of
this state while we've got the opportunity to do so. If one more person
says, "Kathy, I think you should move down here," I think I'll probably
strangle them. Brad's sister, with whom we also have a close
relationship, was all over us with the oft repeated question, "when are
you moving here?" Brad's mom, whom I adore, mentioned that "the kids
would love it if you moved here." Of course the inlaws dropped a few
hints. And My very good friend, Barb, who also lives here, dropped the
hint yesterday, too. Sheesh. Never have so many people been so
interested in where we should live. I find that really odd. It's nice
to be wanted, but honestly, other than seeing me more, do they really
have a say in it? Nope. And do I really want to live here? Noooooooooo.
Am not moving to Phoenix. Just not gonna do it. If, at some point in
the future we choose to escape winter living, we'll move to Texas. Not
Phoenix. While it would be fun to move somewhere you have a guaranteed
social circle from Day One, it's a. too hot here b. there's too much
driving involved to get anyplace c. my in-laws live here. Anyhoo, it's
been fun to be down here, but it's time to go home. Even though it's
cold and shitty in Minneapolis. I heard a rumor about sleet falling
over the weekend and it's not pleasing me. As we have a three-hour-plus
layover in Denver this afteroon (Hey Goldstein!
Come out to the airport and buy me a drink, damnit!) I'm going to try
to do a little wi-fi blogging, provided the smoking lounge at DIA has
free wi-fi. If I can't do that, well, the Red Sox game will be on by
that point in time and life will be fine.

Posted by: Kathy at 09:37 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Here's your question for the

Here's your question for the day:

How many people in the real, non-cybernetic, non-blogospheric world have you heard drop the word Islamofascist into casual conversation?
Not many, right?
After picking up the tuxes on Wednesday night, we were over at the
groom's house. The guys were waiting for the imminent debauchery to
become, well, imminent.
I was waiting for the bride to show up for a few minutes so I could say
"hi" and maybe make some plans because I blew off liveblogging and
needed something to do other than hang out at the in-law's house. The
debate was running on the big screen TV in the background; John Kerry's
freakishly long face was distorted even further due to the sheer number
of pixels needed to make up his ugly mug on that monstrous TV. The
topic of politics was, of course, front and center. We were all
friends, of course, so we knew this was a safe activity---for the most
part. But there was one man who was there---another groomsman---who was
new to the husband and I, at least, so we tempered our words. Just in
case. There was no need.
The minute the word "Islamofascist" slipped from his lips, I knew where
he stood, and I smiled.
I knew I had a blog reader on my hands.
But, as it turns out, that wasn't the whole story. I found out the next
night that I had an actual blogger
on my hands. He's somewhat of a newbie blogger, and isn't producing
much at the moment, but that's easily understood as he and his wife are
moving house soon. His name is Jay Swartzfeger and you can find his
blog here.
Besides being married to a very cool woman, he's a web designer (I
think that's his job. I'd actually have to find his card to confirm and
who the hell knows where that's at. I'm certainly not going looking for
it at 12:30 in the morning.), and an award winning beer and mead (yes,
that's right...mead. Turns out you really can ferment anything in your kitchen.) brewer. Go and check him out. You'll find him well worth your time.

*You might get more. You might not. Simply because I'm fickle that way.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:30 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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The husband is a Rush

The husband is a Rush fan. God help me, I know. But mainly he's a fan
not because of the caterwauling of the lead singer, but because of Neil
Peart, the drummer. The husband, if you didn't already know, is also a
drummer. As a sign of true admiration, or to prove that he's not a
nutjob to be a fan of this band, in the past the husband has made the
claim, many times, that a group of scientists had studied Peart's style
and come to the conclusion that there was no conceivable way he should
be able to do what he could do on the drums; that the human body
shouldn't be able to manipulate a kit like Peart did; in essence, they
summed up that the guy was either a freak of nature (being struck by
lightning will do that to a person) or that he was a robot.
Now he has a drum playing robot named after him, so I suppose the robot claim isn't too far off, eh, dear?

(tip o' hat: Martini Boy's bartender)

Posted by: Kathy at 12:11 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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