I Can't Believe They Actually Exist

Ligers

Crawling Stones Word Search

Wanna know why I can't finish this thing? It's too boring. I've tried to complete it and I just don't care. I don't care about it any more than Bush cares about black people.

Heartfelt Greeting

You're Loaded

Admit it!

(Snagged from JaG)

Locate a Scientology Organization Near You

It's comforting to know that there are no Scientology Organizations within a hundred miles of me.

How Halloween Happened

A History of Halloween. (which is a stupid holiday, but whatever.) The article also has an annoying door which opens and closes to reveal a large, poorly manicured hand. This makes it hard to read the article because I keep gettting distracted by that hand. Maybe if I press the stop button at the top of the page it'll quit poking that hand out and distracting me from my reading. Ah! It worked. That's better.

(thanks to honestus)

Trick or Treat

Unnoticed Suicide. Next time, shoot for Easter.

(from AfroAssault)

Carve Yourself a Happy Little Pumpkin

Halloween's not my favorite holiday. I'm just gonna admit that right now. I'm not big into the scaring of other people or the smearing of fake blood on little children's faces. I could do without this holiday entirely if it weren't for the fact that as a theatrical type personage dressing in extravagant costumes and parading around in them is almost a requirement of my existence.

If I were a super cool blogger, I would design and create a little flash game where you could dress me up in Halloween costumes that you design and then I would hold a little contest and the best costumes would win a dorky prize or whatever. But I'm not that super cool. Instead I'll point you to this little pumpkin carving game where you click and hold the mouse to carve the features of your pumpkin and then it lights it with a candle for you. Simple and fun.

Rolling Stones Word Search

Here's the words you should find:
Aftermath
Angie
As Tears Go By
Beggars Banquet
Black and Blue
Brown Sugar
Dirty Work
Emotional Rescue
Flashpoint
Fool to Cry
Goat's Head Soup
Harlem Shuffle
Heart Of Stone
Highwire
I Go Wild
It's All Over Now
Jagger
Jones
Lady Jane
Let It Bleed
Miss You
No Security
Out Of Our Heads
Out Of Tears
Paint It Black
Respectable
Richards
Rolling Stones
Ruby Tuesday
Satisfaction
She's a Rainbow
She Was Hot
Some Girls
Star Star
Start Me Up
Steel Wheels
Sticky Fingers
Still Life
Stripped
Tattoo You
Time Is On My Side
Under Cover
Voodoo Lounge
Watts
Wood
Wyman

Researching....

I am currently trying to grasp some of the major points of ghost writing. Forgive me if I disappear a bit. Oddly appropriate for Halloween, don't you think?

A Nice Retirement Fund

My blog is worth $20,887.98.
How much is your blog worth?

It's what all the popular bloggers are doing...

I've been blogtagged. I don't know what this means, but it means I have to do something. What's worse, it means I have to hunt through my archives for something. And then when I find it I have to show it you all and then I have to make five other bloggers do the same. Nate did this to me. (Why, Nate, why?) Here's how I am to waste a minute of my day:

1. Go into your archives. (waste of time)
2. Find your 23rd post. (probably a random picture)
3. Post the fifth sentence. (the entire post consists of a title)
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. (Don't you just hate self-referential instructions? So cocky!)
5. Tag five other people to do the same thing. (Oh, OK. I guess.)

My, my. Lucky for me the twenty-third post ever (on this blog) was a title of another person's story, the link to which is now broken (I found it again though). It happens to be something Calum wrote, of all the good fortune, so I believe I will take this blogtagged opportunity to quote his fifth sentence in its entirety from his extraordinary idea, "Labyrinthine Marriage Bureaucracy":

It was in ruminating on this that a man wiser than myself said, "The government shouldn't be trying to make it easier to get divorced, they should be making it harder to get married."

You really should just read the whole thing...

And for passing on the blogtag torch, I choose (at random) Tara, Nicotine, Diva, Joel and Rosie O'Donnell. You are all "it."

WriAShorStorWe

Can't hack a novel in a month? No problem. Defective Yeti is launching the lazy man's NaNoWriMo! Hop to it, wusses! (smug smile from someone who's never written a novel in a month much less a year and is pretty sure she doesn't even know how, but still insists on being proud of trying.)

Women and Men

My brother and I were having a discussion on how relationships are defined between women and men. I asked, "When does a couple know that it is a couple?" Here was my brother's response:

"Men and women are like a tetherball apparatus; the man is the pole and the woman is the ball. A man can't keep track of the woman as she swings wildly around him. It's impossible for him to figure out what she's doing, thinking, or feeling. So he just stands there and waits and when she finally winds around to where she's touching him, then he knows they're a couple."

At which point we both howled with laughter.

The Package

This little game took me 12 minutes and 32 seconds. But at least I didn't die.

Costume SWAT

My chest hurts a little from laughing at these costume reviews.


(my friend skinflaps found these last two items. Thanks, skin!)

Keeps Them Coming Back

You know what keeps new visitors coming to my blog?

Is it:
a) a picture of a model on a runway
b) a tattooed woman's back
c) a tree sweater

Take a guess...


Answer: This girl. Guys can't get enough of her. Day in, day out, they line the halls of the world wide web to take a peek. Hilarious!

A typical Cleveland morning

Yesterday was a good day, despite having seen a dead body on the city streets on the way in to work. Yep, even a hit and run victim under a sheet in front of a convenience store two blocks from my office couldn't put a dint in my day! Clear skies (except for the clouds), fresh air and cops for miles around swarming in with lights flashing, marking off distances from the head of the deceased to the curb! A beautiful day!

Even the young hoodlums who got on at the very next stop from the scene were quiet and calm, talking in hushed voices of the sprangled position of the body they had seen before it was covered up. And how politely they got out of the way as I made my way off the bus at my stop! So obliging. So charming. This whole city. Feel the love!

Blasted Rose!

Here's something we could all do with a little more of in our lives: flowers being shattered by a bullet after being dipped in liquid nitrogen.

Simply put

This t-shirt expresses my feelings pretty well.

Toss-Wheee-Click!

Behold the Camera Toss Phenomenon.

(I believe it is time to invest in a small crap camera which

I can pitch at furious heights into the atmosphere...)

(Thanks to Henry Bloomfield)

Race Pig

Congrats to Diva Drip who won some obscur (and frankly rather tedious) contest I ran a while ago. For her prize she requested a song to go along with this picture:

And here it is:

Thank You

Just wanted to write a little note of appreciation to the (male) coworker who asked me about my belly dance class this evening. Yes, I do have class tonight and if it hadn't been for your keen interest in the matter I might have forgotten it entirely.

Sincerely,

k_sra

NaNoWriMo - Cleveland Style

NaNoWriMo, the site that launched a thousand books, apparently has a bonus feature (that I just noticed) to encourage its aspiring novelists: Regional Affiliations! Pods of novelist wannabes gathering in local pubs and coffe shops and swapping gripes and hopes and time-tested month-long-novel-writing tips! This can only mean one thing: Cleveland NaNo's. I feel them in the air. They are closer than I think. Their bookish brains teaming with off-hand remarks and friendly book-writing ribbery.
In fact they're having a kick off party on the 30th at the Beechwood Library.

Sweet Day in the Morning, this is going to be fun!

Ah, The Decadent 90's!

My Vacation Home

Have I mentioned my preoccupation with clouds before? It stems from living in a town where the only frame of reference I have for nature is frequently the clouds. And we have a lot of them. These particular clouds have nothing to do with Cleveland. I suspect these stunners hung over Japan once upon a time.

That Sinking Feeling

(Found at Cats In Sinks dot com.)

Squirrels on Crack

In London. The article also states that crack squirrels are a "recognized phenomena in the US."
I thought at first they were talking about this squirrel, but then I remembered he's anti-drugs. (See video "Drugs in your head." Not suitable for small children.)


(Friend Chris found the article. Is it a hoax? I'll let you decide...)

Secrety Secret

I'm wearing sticker earrings today!
Shhhh!


*heeheehee*

The Most Tedious Question In Existence

"How are you?"

Random Photo of the Day

What is it? I'm not sure. I am also not sure I want to know. (I didn't know they made pigs that big!) Worldgineer found it.

Expect the Unexpected

PopArt Popsicle

Art on a Stick in a landscape. No one can accuse artist Meredith Allen of not using what's available. Her photo collection has received critical acclaim (meaning critics liked it. read the review. it's quite pretentious.) and I for one commend miss Allen on pursuing such a useless pursuit in the name of art. I hope one day to be just as reckless as she in the name of frozen foods.

According to this...

I am considered a Poetic Genius. That's hows come I can write real good. : )

(Thanks, Steve.)

Mentos & Soda

Try this at home.

Ok, try it in the yard at home, not at home.

Blogged Down, Rising

[editor's note: In a hopelessly tangled state of mind I open a page of blogger publishing to churn out (and it is churning, people, like the sea in storm) a post for the mass of readers who turn to this website for a daily dose of I-don't-know-what.]

I feel I should say something. Something monumentally imposing and dramatic, like, "I've decided to quit blogging for a while and pursue other dreams." But that's not quite true. I do want to quit blogging, just at the moment, because it's become something like work. In fact it feels more like work than it feels like fun, and since when do I promise to do what I no longer want to do (except love my neighbor, walk with dignity, accept misfortunes and enjoy every new thing)? Regardless of my despondent attitude toward the blog, it still retains its charms and is often that glimmering thing at the bottom of this dull world I have created for myself (my little bubble under water), but it won't suffice forever.

November is almost upon us. I have promised to write a novel in November. More accurately, I have promised myself that I will attempt to write a novel every November until I have actually written one. Judging from the pile of rubble that I heaped on an unsuspecting world last November, this may take more than one effort. Like breaking down a door with your shoulder; the first few hits count for nothing except bruises. A door, it turns out, is a surprisingly sturdy thing. Apparently, novels, like their wooden cousins, bear some striking similarities.

I'd rather fail at something I love than succeed at something I hate. Was it Woody Allen who said that? He was right to say so. I echo him now. If you hear the occasional rumbling volcano, It's me. I can't take much more of this status quo. But, for the moment, I will not Vesuvius all over the place. I have to figure out the all important what now before I can blow the top off of anything. But I will at some point come majorly undone (the way cables unwind from a bridge that is collapsing). Because my life is all safety and sunshine. Because it terrifies me to move away from safety. Because I know that I don't have courage enough for the dreams I am trying to reach. Because I need to terrify myself before I can figure out that failure's not so bad. Because bravery is really just faking it (bring me my brown pants) when you want so badly to run away. (Why can't we all be brave and strong?)

I hear it over and over again. It's becoming almost an everyday mantra from people I respect, people who's business it is to make such assessments. "Sarah, you have potential for greatness." I've always heard this phrase well-mixed with a million others, "Sarah, you're on my shoelace." "Sarah, you forgot to lock the door." "Sarah, you should become a comic." I didn't know I was supposed to pick that one out and make it happen. And the only way to achieve greatness is to forget what 'greatness' means and to work everyday to be the picture of yourself that you most want to be. I am a portrait of myself. Everyday. At this moment, I am not the portrait I wish to look at. So, I may fail. And you'll be there to watch me fail. But it's worth this much love at least: to run towards life yelling, "I'm gonna get you, Sucka!"

It's like Jojo says, "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing badly."

Interlude

Imagine my disappointement when I tried to skip to the loo
and realized I wasn't wearing my skipping shoes!

True or False

Alfred Hitchcock had no bellybutton.

Gig Harbor man wins third in world beard contest

Seattle is talking about the competition. My favorite quote in this article is, "We don't stand a chance against the Germans."
I'm waiting for the really juicy stuff: the barber intrigues, the beard steroids and lustre enhancers, wardrobe malfunctions - all the things that make a World Beard and Moustache Competition what it is.

The Basic Laws of Human Stupidity

Stupid is as stupid does.

Q: Knock Knock

A: Who's there?

hoogerbrugge

This surrealist moment in Modern Living brought to you by Han Hoogerbrugge.

Choo-choose One

Which kind of Train are you?

Crooning Child

Occasionally, we all need to be freaked out a bit. And this is as good a way as any to do it. For maximum effect watch alone in a darkened room.

(Wags found it. I just swiped it.)

Handsome Pets

H-O-R-S-E

Whatever you do, don't play him one on one.

Caption Contest Concluded...

Here they are, the winner's for the Latest Caption Contest (and this was a tough one. I had about fifteen running neck and neck for half the day.) First Place Winners may select from our three Fabulous Prizes*:

First Place:

Christopher said...
Silence fell across the room. Where was the kitten indeed.

normzone said...
Of course, all three outfits are complimented by the hand-knitted barbecue, made of 100% asbestos yarn.

Worldgineer said...
"Don't worry, Bridget. We'll airbrush out the couple barbecueing after the photoshoot."

Second Place:

Steve DeGroof said...
Bob and Nancy pointedly ignored Tamara as she launched into yet another round of "I'm a Little Teapot". "She doesn't even do the spout right", whispered Nancy.

Lukas Abrhmsaid...
a second later, the crowd shuddered as the extra in the pink turned sideways, and disappeared completely.

Third Place:

Steve DeGroof said...
Upon learning that their new cabin was infested with giant wood grubs, Dave and Angela decided to make the best of it.

dag said...
Cousin It's tittie twister habit just never ends.

And an honorable mention just for good measure:

normzone said...
You have a really cool blog. I found it while googling CAPTION CONTEST.
You should check out my blog - it's all about INDOOR BARBECUE.

Thanks to everyone who participated and next time write more, damnit. I know you're good for it!

*Fabulous Prizes is a trademark of YLSN(a)ED and refers to one of the following: A song on the topic of your choosing, a stunt photo of k_sra trying to accomplish whatever you request her to accomplish, or a gift mailed to you from the randomer than hell dollar store in the neighborhood. k_sra reserves the right to turn down requests that she thinks are too pervy or too boring to fulfill. Otherwise, it's all good! : )

Cube Bugs

Does it have a point? I don't think so. But it's mindless and fun.

Britons are Europe's most prolific shoplifters

It says so right here. What's funny to me is Switzerland is the least shoplifting nation, but I know someone who stole something from Switzerland!

"Who?" you ask.


I-I-I'll never te-e-e-elll!

White and Delightsome

Each time I descend into the the city turning in the air above the Great Salt Lake it gets worse. It's a kind of dread. A revulsion. A fear. It's culture shock, actually. I know what I'm in for and each time I fly into the city it gets harder to want to be there. I am lowered by plane into the very belly of the great white, clean, beast that is Mormonism.

It begins as the plane leaves from wherever it comes from before it reaches Salt Lake. On the flight there are a handful of clean, white business men talking about politics, work and their families. Their moral code is apparent in their speech and their cleanliness leaves a sickly sweetness in the air. They are: clean-shaven, carefully coiffed, dressed in upscale clothes and dazzlingly white.

Arriving is worse. The airport is like the two men on the plane only multiplied. All white, all clean, all living by the code of their secret society. Of course, there are also immigrants working at the airport and there are tourists leaving the city so it's not a complete white out.

But by the time I reach my hotel, two blocks from temple square, the transformation is complete. The only thing I see from my window over the street are small herds of white, blonde, church-dressed families. Mostly groups of seven or eight or twelve walking toward the tabernacle with smiles on their faces. All the males wearing black pants and white shirts. All the females in seemingly the same frumpy dress in pastel shades. And as they march along the upper way in the clean streets of Salt Lake, in the immaculate morning air, I shudder.

This is my own personal hell.

Everyone the same: Women like little dowdy stepford wives. The men like Agent Smiths. Each a perfect facsimile of the other. All perfectly, horrifyingly alike.

It was on this trip that the phrase white and delightsome first came to my ears. Not that the Mormons are racist or anything, but apparently if a person with skin darker than whey becomes Mormon they can someday hope to become "white and delightsome" like the rest of the pasty-faced crew when god decides to reverse the curse that is their blemished skin. Lovely.

Of course since 1981 the LDS church decided that "white" really just meant "pure" and all the scriptures were changed accordingly. Now it's ok to be a Mormon and also to be black. And you don't need god to change your skin color or anything for you to be truly blessed. Of course no white Mormon is gonna marry you either. But you understand.

I won't touch Polygamy and the Mormons in this rant, even though the practice is alive and well. (Ok, I will say this: It's officially "not condoned" anymore, but of course polygamy was the very cause of Joseph Smith's "martyrdom" and therefore a foundational tenant of the religion.) There is more than I want to discuss in this one post already.

Flying away from the city, I kept my eyes on that lake; big and dead and lovely. Three sides of the valley are surrounded by mountains all changing colors for the Fall. Such a beautiful place.

I was so glad to leave it.

Katrina Hitting Alabama?

...or just some tornadoes in Nebraska and Kansas...