Say it soft, and it's almost like praying.

Today is just a Maria Bamford video because (a) I love her and I'm excited to see her tomorrow, and (b) Meredith Baxter Birney.

Five Degrees of Maya Rudolph

I have the --how you say?-- concentration problems at work. Today was pretty bad though.

(1) I read an interview with Paul Thomas Anderson about No Country for Old Men. I realized he was married to Maya Rudloph. Or was it Milla Jovovich?

(2) I researched Paul Thomas Anderson and confirmed he was married to Maya Rudolph. But then who was married to Milla Jovovich?

(3) Milla Jovovich is married to Paul W.S. Anderson, also a director, but not to be confused with Paul Thomas Anderson. I think I would rather be married to Paul Thomas Anderson. He dated Fiona Apple for several years apparently, I'm not super into that, I wonder what Maya thinks about it. She's so funny and awesome though, she's got nothing to worry about. Plus they had that baby together...

(4) I once read an article about Maya Rudolph in which somebody said "Hey congratulations on your new baby Pearl" and Maya responded "Thanks! She's a classy lady." I loved that. Which reminds me of that old BUST interview by Maya Rudloph of Amy Sedaris...

(5) I dug up the old BUST April/May 2005 issue (yeah I have it, what?) and sure enough, there's a lot of "lady" jokes. Can't get enough of that word. Here is one particularly amusing exchange

Maya: It's true. I think you're a real lady. You're a very poised, charming lady.

Amy: Like you said, you don't see yourself that way. You're trying to be a lady, you're trying to be their idea of it and when you meet a real one, you're like "Wow, I wonder where she's going."

Maya: Exactly.

Amy: She's going to a lady meeting! [Sings] "Who's that lady? Who's that la-dy." That would be cute though, your version of girls.

Maya: When I'm 80, that will be my show.

Amy: Girls, Girls, Girls! One, please!

Maya: I hope you'll be there.

Amy: I'll probably be dressing you in the back or selling cupcakes in the lobby.

Maya: Please do. I would be honored.

Funny Business

I love love love the Golden Girls. In a cruel twist of fate and social calendars, I cannot attend this weekend's transvestite performance of the Golden Girls holiday episodes featuring "enough St. Olaf anecdotes, shoulder pads, fugly holiday sweaters, and primo zingers to last until the next Lifetime marathon."

My loss is only slightly mitigated by tickets to Comedians of Comedy on Friday. No Galifianakis (sad face) but oh the Oswalt, Posehn, and Bamford goodness!!!



Update: Trannyshack's having the Golden Girls tons of dates in December, not just this weekend! Who wants to go December 28th or 29th?

Unfunny Business

Two things I will not do as a parent:

(1) Create a fake MySpace to taunt a 13-year-old girl. Last week we learned about the awful parents who tricked 13-year-old Megan Meier by creating a fake profile for "Josh" on MySpace. "Josh" flirted with the Megan, then said he heard she was slutty and fat, and then she hanged herself. The unbelievably awful mother responsible for the profile told police she and her daughter typed and monitored the communication between Josh and Megan, apparently to gain Megan's confidence to know what Megan was saying about her daughter online.

(2) Beat, torture, and kill my 2-year-old daughter. The news was aflurry today with revelations that the parents of missing "Baby Grace" (the girl found dead in Galveston Bay) confessed to beating, torturing, and then killing her. The mother's police statement said the girl was beaten with leather belts, had her head held underwater in a bathtub, and was then thrown across a room slamming her head into a tile floor. The parents kept the body in a storage shed for a few months before they put it in a plastic bin and dumped it into Galveston Bay.

Happy Thankgiving

Here is a recipe for possum I found while searching "roasted butternut squash" this morning.

E. W.'S ROAST POSSUM WITH SWEET POTATOES

1 possum
Salt and pepper
1 pod red pepper
1 sweet potato per person

Simmer possum until partially done, changing the stock a couple of times according to age and amount of wild taste. Add a piece of red pepper in the final simmer. Place possum in roaster. Add small amount of water. Sprinkle possum with flour and baste with fat, if necessary. (Usually fat on possum is sufficient.) Surround by small sweet potatoes and bake until possum and potatoes are browned. Cooking time, from 1 to 2 hours at 350 degrees. Makes from six to eight servings.




At first I thought it was a joke, but then I was like "wait, Beth Ditto sometimes talks about eating squirrel growing up in Arkansas, is this a Southern thing?" The answer is Yes.


Wikipedia says the opossum was a favorite game animal in the southern regions of the United States, which have a large body of recipes and folklore relating to the opossum. The meat is light and fine grained, but the musk glands must be removed as part of preparation. Opossum can be used in place of rabbit and chicken in recipes.



More interesting possum facts:

• When threatened or harmed, they will "play possum," mimicking the appearance and smell of a sick or dead animal. The lips are drawn back, teeth are bared, saliva foams around the mouth, and a foul-smelling fluid is secreted from the anal glands. The physiological response is involuntary, rather than a conscious act. Their stiff, curled form can be prodded, turned over, and even carried away. Many injured opossums have been killed by well-meaning people who find a catatonic animal and assume the worst. The best thing to do upon finding an injured or apparently dead opossum is to leave it in a quiet place with a clear exit path. In minutes or hours, the animal will regain consciousness and escape quietly on its own.

• Adult opossums do not hang from trees by their tails, though babies may dangle temporarily. Their prehensile tails are not strong enough to support a mature adult's weight. Instead, the opossum uses its tail as a brace and a fifth limb when climbing. The tail is occasionally used as a grip to carry bunches of leaves or bedding materials to the nest.

• Opossums have a remarkably robust immune system, and show partial or total immunity to the venom of rattlesnakes, cottonmouths, and other pit vipers.

• Thanks to their lower blood temperature, rabies is almost unknown in opossums.

• The opossum lifespan is unusually short for a mammal of its size, usually only 2 to 4 years.

• An early description of the opossum comes from explorer John Smith, who wrote in Map of Virginia in 1608 that "An Opassom hath an head like a Swine, and a taile like a Rat, and is of the bignes of a Cat. Under her belly she hath a bagge, wherein she lodgeth, carrieth, and sucketh her young."

Mom's Corner

Hey everybody, my parents' dog writes emails now. You heard me. This is the most recent correspondence with her boyfriend Henry (my cousin's dog):

My Dear Rowdy Henry,

Thank you so much for your informative, entertaining and sweet letter! My, oh my, Henry, you are a talented writer! I even forwarded your letter to Linda, Melissa and Karl who also belong to my family but who live far away.

I would love to be called your "brown eyed girl" if I can call you my Rowdy Henry. Nobody has ever called me that before, and it sounds so tender. I like tender. But I'll tell you a secret, Henry. I love rowdy even more!! I got rowdy at dog park with a young bull mastiff and it was so fun. However, when we wrestled and he fell on my front paw, it kind of hurt for awhile. My Mommy and the owner were friends, and they knew the mastiff didn't mean to hurt me. Honestly, Henry, I think I was more scared than hurt...do you know what I mean? I felt fine in a few hours. The next day my Mommy took me back to the same park to see if I was afraid of it, but she found out I was still excited to play with other dogs. I'm very sorry to hear about your eyelid being bit! I surely hope you're all healed now! I promise when we play together next time that I won't bite you...I'd never bite my Rowdy Henry.

Your trip to Oregon sounded wonderful. I loved seeing the picture of you running in doggie heaven. Thank you for sending it to me. Your paws weren't even touching the ground! I can't wait to see a doggie heaven like that. So far, I think my only doggie heaven is fetching and swimming in the ocean. My paws don't touch the ground there either, ha ha. My Mommy and Daddy told me to tell you that they would love to see you and your family whenever you get down here. My Daddy has changed my backyard, however. He planted some new plants along the back fence, and then he put a wire around them so that I wouldn't run over them like I did the other plants. When I touched the wire with my nose, it gave me a teeny shock. I jumped and ran back to Daddy. He pet me and cuddled me and said "Good Girl Maggie." I don't run close to that wire anymore, but I still fetch and run in the yard.

See you soon!

Your Brown Eyed Girl, Maggie Lou

This moved from funny to uncomfortable right around "I like tender." My Dad's just as creepy. He sits on the couch with his arm around Maggie like she's his girlfriend. I fear Maggie will be sitting at the dinner table with us on Thanksgiving. Maybe a little napkin stuck in her collar or something, eyeing me with jealousy and/or contempt. It's not good.

And it's not just my parents! Jeff's mom sent him a card with paw prints (the dog's paws had been painted and pressed against the envelope). Recently Kristen and her parents were leaving for dinner, and her parents turned to the cat and said "Lucky, we'd take you if we could!" Kristen was like "Um, NO. There is no wishing you could take the cat to dinner."

Guest Blogger: John Weber

Hi John Weber! I'm friends with Cheryl. Nice to meet you and hear about the awesome discovery you made last weekend:

I installed a ceiling exhaust fan for my wife's grandfather. While my brother-in-law and I were fitting the fan in between the joists, we found something under the insulation. What we found was this:

A JC Penney catalog from 1977. It's not often blog fodder just falls in my lap, but holy hell there was two solid inches of it right there for the taking. I thumbed through it quickly and found my next dining room set, which is apparently made by adding upholstery to old barrels.

There were plenty more home furnishings where those came from, but I don't want to bore you with that. Instead, I will bore you with clothes. The clothes were fantastic.

Here's how to get your butt kicked on the golf course. This "all purpose jumpsuit" is, according to the description, equally appropriate for playing golf or simply relaxing around the house. Personally, I can't see wearing this unless you happen to be relaxing around your cell in D-block . Even then, the only reason you should put this thing on is because the warden made you, and as a one-piece, it's slightly more effective as a deterrent against ass-rapery.

Here's how to get your butt kicked in a meeting. If you wear this suit and don't sell used cars for a living, I believe you can be fined and face serious repercussions, up to and including termination. Or imprisonment, in which case you'd be forced to wear that orange jumpsuit.

Here's how to get your butt kicked on every day up to and including St. Patrick's Day. Dear god in heaven, I don't believe that color exists in nature. There is NO excuse for wearing either of these ensembles unless you're working as a body guard for the Lucky Charms leprechaun.

In this next one, your search for VALUE ends at JC Penney's. As does your search for chest hair.

And this? Seriously. There are no words. Oh wait, it turns out that there are words after all. Those words are: What The FUCK!?! I'm guessing the snap front gives you quick access to the chest hair. The little tie must be the pull tab.

Also, judging by the sheer amount of matching his/hers outfits, I'm guessing that in 1977 it was considered pretty stylish for couples to dress alike. These couples look happy, don't they?

And nothing showcases your everlasting love more than the commitment of matching bathing suits. That, and a blonde girl with a look on her face that says "I love the way your junk fights against that fabric."

John Weber, please guest blog with me again.

Yo Soy Yuppie

Today was Beaujolais Day in San Francisco. Apparently every third Thursday of November the new batch of Beaujolais Nouveau is released at 12:01 AM. I spent my evening drinking many wines in cute alleyway bistros. And eating lots of cheese and olives and bread. And before we started in with the wine we went to a Banana Republic "Luxe" event with champagne and goodie bags. And I am wearing pumps.

The Radical Rodents

Thanks Hip E.

The Way I See It

I got some Starbucks recently [FN1], and the cup said:

# 275 When I wake up in the morning, I want to know that my family, friends and fans know what I believe in and what I'm all about. That's what should be important. -- Robert Randolph (Musician. His songs can be heard on Starbucks Hear Music TM station, XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.)

I love that this dude is talking about his art and its authenticity on a Starbucks cup near a promotion for Starbucks XM. Has he no self-consciousness? And he's not alone! There are a few more entertaining musicians talking about their art on paper cups that yuppies will purchase from the chain coffee shop and throw in the trash without reading. Examples:

#260 Playing in an independent rock band will eventually make you equal parts truck driver, gladiator and mule. Glamour is for those with trust funds. -- Neko Case (Musician. Her songs can be heard on Starbucks Hear Music™ station, XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.)

# 268 Music is what I always turn to when I’m feeling a certain way. It’s my reason for everything. -- Josh Groban (Musician. His songs can be heard on Starbucks Hear Music™ station, XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.)

# 281 I’ve never bought the “lowest common denominator” image of popular art. Too many artists worry that popularity is the same as being “middle of the road.” I’m much more into the idea that the middle is the highest point. On a map, the center of a mountain is its peak. You need to climb very high to get there. -- Dan Wilson (Musician. His songs can be heard on Starbucks Hear Music™ station, XM Satellite Radio Channel 75.)



[FN1] Do you say "a coffee" or "coffee"? It feels weird to me to say "let's get a coffee."

Mom's Corner

"Here are some photos of Maggie since she'll be a BIG 1-year old on Monday. It seems like only yesterday we were cradling a tiny, helpless furball. Maggie recently went to the feed store with me - it had many cages filled with pigeons and small birds. Maggie sat mesmerized by them as she stared intently. (Maybe poodles have some bird dog genes?)"


No I don't know why the pictures have white like that. Yes that is my mother wearing a devil mask and making a peace sign.

More on eels.

And here is some stuff John Hodgman wrote about eels:

Eels, any schoolchild knows, were the true main course at the Pilgrims' first Thanksgiving, largely because the eels themselves had eaten all the turkeys. While it's difficult to imagine now, because they are so disgusting and now so rare, eels played a critical role in the economy and culture of colonial New England. Once our nation's rivers were glossy and black with majestic herds of eels, but they proved too tempting as a food source, and many found them to be just too spooky to tolerate. What eels were not eaten were often killed out of sheer angry terror. By the time Benjamin Franklin, that famous turkey-lover, began attacking eels in a series of vicious aphorisms in his almanacs, they had alrady largely disappeared from the landscape and recorded history.

And here is a video of a moray eel biting off a man's finger:


gameoven.com

Winston.

FourFour is a good blog. My favorite part is Winston the cat.

Punky Brewster Spider

In Fayetteville over Halloween, I watched several Roseanne Halloween specials. Them's good times. I like a woman who both sasses and scares her children. This triggered Karl's memory of that Punky Brewster episode with the huge creepy spider. Do you remember that?!? What the hell was that all about? I think it had something to do with Indian spirits and cave exploration and then a huge spider pops out. Totally gave me nightmares.




Other things that bothered young Linda include:

• Thriller


• Return to Oz


• Scooby Doo


• Amazing Stories


• Clue


• Howard the Duck


• Dean Koontz


• Bloody Mary


• Poltergeist III (This one stuck with me. I cannot be near a mirror at night.)

It's Linda, bitch.

Sorry for going on vacation and not telling you. I'm sure your fingers are all raw from refreshing this site over and over and over, drooling in wide-eyed expectation.


I had fun in Memphis with Kristen, who was nice enough to fly her awesomeness down from Brooklyn. Then I spent the best week ever in Fayetteville, Arkansas with my brother Hot Karl and sister-in-law Melissa. So much maxin and relaxin with movies and books and walks. Oh the walks! All fall foliage and brick cuteness and fireplace smells and crunching leaves.


I was there for Halloween. We dressed as a half-assed Three's Company but we arrived at the bar with their Ukranian friend Dmytro who was dressed like an Amish person. I suggested two ladies in "Sexy Uncreative Girl" costumes pose with him. Dmytro loves I Love Lucy and used to have a hamster named Sunshine, so you can guess how comfortable he was. [FN1]




Dmytro was nice enough to drive me to the Clinton House Museum the next day. It's their first little house here when they were both professing the law at University of Arkansas and Bill started his first campaigns. The museum had an overeager tour guide along as well as pictures, articles, and some awesome old campaign videos ("Tired of high prices for your greens and beans? Forget what pork and roast beef means?). In many pictures Bill looks completely smitten with Hillary and the only home furnishings were cinder block bookshelves and tons of books. And a bed for their overachieving and cerebral love. The house itself has a cute story: One day Bill was driving Hillary to the airport and she said in passing "That's a cute house." When she returned from vacation he said "I bought that house you liked. And I can't live there alone so you'll have to marry me." Oh Bill! Such a charmer.


[FN1] The slut on the left has a little Amy Winehouse in the face, no?

Memphian Delights

I tried hard to find funny stories during my trip to the Southland. Unfortunately the people were not as obese as I'd hoped, plus they were incredibly nice and race relations seemed to have a bonding-of-proximity totally lacking here in lilly white San Francisco. Thanks for not conforming to my stereotypes, assholes.

But the motel was awesome. You will recall our hotel troubles and Red Roof Inn reservations. It ended up being fine even though it could've been Anywhere, USA and we slept under thin floral bedspreads with flourescent lighting. All of my front desk encounters were great.

On the day we arrived, the front desk lady was a large white woman with a gold-plated grill. She did not enjoy helping customers. At all. I walked up to her and opened my mouth as if to speak. She arched her eyebrows, placed one index finger in the air, and mouthed for me to "hold on". She was busy telling somebody on the line how to defrost chicken breasts. The ones from the freezer. Just pull em out and put em in the microwave. Like a few minutes. Until they warm. Then bread em and just fry em up. She'll be home when she gets home.

Our key cards said "Room Service? Call Domino's!!!" in an awesome party font printed diagonally (which is totally the way to convey fun!!!). Anyway. One night we arrived home and wanted pizza. Kristen called Domino's. Nope. Closed at 2:00. Kristen called Papa John's. Nope. Closed at 2:00. We debated whether the motel had any food other than the soda vending machines. I called the front desk and very drunkenly and seriously asked whether "this hotel has any food items that are not soda pop." This night attendant, bless her heart, answered with equal seriousness "we have fruit punch...and Lipton tea."

Oh and on the morning I left I wanted to use the one computer in the lobby. First I had to wait for the front desk attendant to get off it. Then I had to move her half-eaten danish OFF THE KEYBOARD.

Funny snippets of conversations involving animals.

Karl: (By way of initially greeting Linda, picks up a small cat and places it upon Linda's head) "This is Rupee. She's the coolest of our animals."

Melissa: "Rupee's butthole always looks weird."

Karl: "Before we leave for dinner, let's look at the ferrets at Petco."

Linda: "Oh fuck. Moray eels are totally weird. Their faces! Next year I'm gonna be a morey eel for Halloween, and the entire costume will be the rocks, including over my head, and then my face will just be a moray eel mask popping out of a small cavern." [FN1]



[FN1] Subsequent thoughts: Can a moray eel come loose from its rocks? What do their bodies even look like? How fast can they go? I fear I'm asking question to which I want no answers.

Mom's Corner

(1) October 31, 2007: "Happy Halloween! You've been mooned!"




(2) November 6, 2007: "Maggie and I are leaving now to do a couple errands together...getting a fido shocker to keep her away from new plants along the fenceline (one shock will probably do it) and to get Gretyl some adult cat food at Petco...I took Gretyl into the vet this morning since her backend seemed sensitive to touch. I wasn't sure if it was a hip issue or a skin issue...it was a severe skin issue so a healthier diet will help her feel better. The vet had to sedate her in order to bathe her, but Gretyl will feel really good when she wakes up. That's her first bath in 10 1/2 years! Initially, the vet sprayed a feline aroma into the crate which created a 'motherly' scent. Gretyl walked out of the crate and sat next to the vet while she got pet!! I could not believe my eyes! This vet bill will be worth its $$ just to see Gretyl so pleasant!!"