Sunday, October 30, 2011

...This Was the Scariest Cartoon Ever...

I was seriously a little afraid of this cartoon growing up.
(Bugs Bunny in "Hyde and Hare")

And this Cliffhanger game used to have me in tears

Now if I could just find the old Mighty Mouse cartoon where he nearly didn't save the little mouse on the train track, I'd have the holy trilogy of horror that made me nearly poop my pants in fear as a kid.

Maybe next year...

Have a Safe and Happy Halloween!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

...Last Night I Dreamt I Saw the End of the World...

Or maybe it was just the end of my world, I don’t know.

But I saw it very clearly and it was very scary.

Strangely, it was the third dream I’ve had in the last month that involved me being on fire or in a fire. One friend of mine happened to be in two of the dreams. The building in the third dream is a building I dream of often. I’ve never physically been to this building in my life and if I ever happen walk into it, I will turn around, walk right back out and keep walking until my legs give out. Then I will drag myself.

In the first dream, I was accidentally (I hope) set on fire by something I thought was dead.

In the second dream, I looked for a fire extinguisher to put out a fire in my mom’s basement only to be told that the only extinguisher in the house was, you guessed it, in the basement.

In the third dream, the one where I saw the end of the world, I was in a party I couldn’t get out of. Somehow I ended up in the lower level of the aforementioned building. There is an explosion. Then dinosaurs. Then Russell Brand. And finally the realization that I am trapped in burning building in a courtyard adjacent to multiple other burning buildings.

I know that some dreams are compilations of random thoughts, sometimes passing images, and vivid memories, but I believe that dreams can also have a real meaning or contain messages or clues.
So I pulled out all of the old dream books and revisited a few online favorites to figure out what all these fire dreams mean. Most sources divide the symbolism into three categories: negative, positive, and “the third one”

  • Fire in the Negative: repressed rage, or fear of raging
  • Fire in the Positive: purification; renewal or regeneration (which is interesting because Scorpios are often associated with the rise of the Phoenix and I am a Scorpio.)
  • Fire in the “Third One”: sex. There is always some source that suggest pretty much anything you dream about is related to sex. I don’t think that’s the case here, but I detail the dreams all the way down below the earworms, so you’re welcome to read and judge for yourself.

I thought about these alleged symbols- the first two, anyway- and I can see room for both of them to be correct.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

...Some Penguins Turn to a Life of Crime...

I was looking for a demonstration video on Blind Football when I found this. Don't ask me how it connects, but it's amusing.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

...You're Not On Your Job...

So last week, I mentioned how I believe that most parents try to do the best they can.

And now this week I’d like to have a word with the ones for which Child Protection Services was created.

If you’ve been reading this blog for longer than a minute, you know that I have never suffered from so-called baby fever. Contrary to popular opinion, this is not because I “hate” children. Yet, I will admit to having campaigned (unsuccessfully) to include dogs and cats on “bring your kid to work” day because I’d rather meet your puppy than your seven year old.

During some volunteer work I’ve had a few opportunities to find out that some wee little ones are pretty okay. They can be smart, polite, and even interesting. Not all of them smell like rotten fruit. Sometimes if you raise your voice a little and tell them to get into a circle, they’ll do it. That was a fun discovery. A lot of them have a genuine curiosity that I certainly appreciate. Many of them have their own cool personalities and don’t come across as mini adults, but wonderful kids.

I think the difference between the kids I kind of like, and the kids that are advertisements for birth control is definitely the parents. More than the schools, more than their friends, and almost more than the media, nearly everything the parent does shapes the child’s personality and influences their life choices.

Some little kids were outside playing the other day when I came in from work using language that I had only seen in adult books when I was their age. I eyed them suspiciously.

“That lady heard you.” one of them said.

“I don’t care!” he responded loudly. “I don’t give a f—k!”

I just shook my head. I bet his parents say the same thing about him all the time.

I’m open about my issues with kids. I’m aware of my shortcomings and since some of my eccentricity might be genetic, I choose not have any children.

But if you have decided to try and replicate your own DNA code with some other sucker who doesn’t know any better, let me remind you of your responsibilities as parents. These are real people we’re talking about. You can’t just toss them in a corner of the basement and forget about them. Well you could, but they might turn feral and kill you in your sleep so I wouldn’t recommend it.

I figure there are five critical responsibilities of parenting. They’re very similar and intertwine a bit, but they’re just different enough to cause a problem if you don’t keep up with any one of them. These concepts are universal because I actually came up with them a few years back, and they all still apply today. The first four aren’t in any particular order. The last one is the big bopper. It’s multidimensional and failure to comply will cost you in ways no one can afford.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

...This is Really Funny...

...Once you realize everyone's okay.

And yes, I realize you've been seeing this everywhere all week, but that's how long I've been laughing at it. And it's still funny.

And is it me, or do you almost get the impression that somewhere off camera there are a bunch of other animals laughing their hydes off?

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

...This is Where It Comes From...

I happened to catch an episode of Basketball Wives the other day.

Someone told me that Tami Roman from the Real World LA had joined the cast and I’ve always found her entertaining and funny, so I tried to remember to watch one night. She wasn’t there, but a bunch of other stanky, skanky, ridiculously embarrassing broads were.

Just from first glance and general appearances this was what one might call, “Basketball Wives, Senior Edition” These chicks are all 59 or older if they’re a day.

And by no means do I mean to offend “seniors.” I come from a family where the women live well into their 80s, 90s, or better and they look good and stay healthy all the way in. I just mean this women are way, way past grown. Plus, that was just my assessment at first glance.

As the show went on, I started to think it was “Basketball Wives, Developmentally Delayed” edition.

If we wonder why young girls bully other girls over dumb stuff, look no further. This episode presented a step by step guide on gang up on a chick for apparently no other reason than you’re stupid and got too much time on your hands.

The episode I caught featured one old broad talking to another old broad about a third chick. They were googling her, basically to find reasons not to like her. They found a police report, feigned concern, and then decided to print it out to take to the other girls in the clique as proof that they shouldn’t like her. They also mention that “she needs her ass beat.”

Sunday, October 9, 2011

...It's the Beauty of Pixar...

Absolutely incredible, amazing and awesome work by the phenomenal Leandro Copperfield showing the magic, beauty and imagination of Pixar.

Movie buffs: Please also visit Leandro's blog to see astounding film appreciation like you've never seen before.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

...To Everything There is a Season...

This time of year always reminds me of when we were kids and we had to clean up the apples from our yard and the neighbor’s yard.

We had a huge backyard. HUGE. The trunk of our apple tree was so girthy (I meant that in the clean way) no one could wrap their arms around it. It spread out so far at the top, the apples would hit our house, our garage, fill up our above-ground pool, the alleyway and the yard of our next door neighbor. On the craziest of windy days the two houses across the alley from us and even their neighbor might find a few apples in their yard, too.

I was too small to rake so I was given a pair of garden gloves and picked up as many as I could to drop in the trash bag. I was a kid, so my energy level was high and I could run around back and forth all day. My sister on the other hand, in her usual irritated, overly dramatic performance might rake a few before she was “overcome” with outdoor allergies and had to run off for respite. Really though, some of the apples were rotten before they hit the ground and she was afraid of and grossed out by the worms.

I was told later that had we trimmed the tree regularly we might have been able to produce edible fruit. But most of these were bad. They had the most pleasant smell but they were almost always mushy soft and when they hit the roof, from inside the house it sounded like you parked your camper in the wrong end of a Punkin Chunkin field. 

This is still usually a nice time of year.

I take my official vacation this time of year. My birthday’s in November. Those addictive Honeycrisp apples are in back in season and I will eat about 8 caramel apples (not in a row, but within 3 weeks) before I decide I never want to see one again until next year. And the best part ever, the leaves change colors.

When I was little I asked my parents why the leaves change colors in the fall.

My dad gave his typical Dad answer: So you’ll pay attention to them before they go away.

My mom gave her typical Mom answer: “Why? Why not?”

It occurred to me that both answers could apply to the horrible tragedy that befell me upon returning to work after my vacation.

My boss walked into my office around 9 am.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

..."I Care"...

This PSA is at least a few months old, but I discovered it just a few weeks ago.
Get your hanky, then press play. And when you're done, let someone know that you care.

Be reminded and Should you ever need it:
1-800-273-TALK (8255) ~ 24 Hour National Suicide Prevention Lifeline