Human Under Construction

2006-08-14

It's All Part of my Rock 'n Roll Fantasy

Let's Hear it for the Boy

On garbage duty, Boy George makes some sweeping statements:

"You think you're better than me?" he yelled. "Go home. Let me do my community service."

"This is supposed to be making me humble. Let me do this," he said. "I just want to do my job."

Really, this was all an excuse to post the crappy photo.

And to put that purgatorial song in both our heads.

You're welcome.

The French Bicycling Mullet

2006-08-11

Dance, Sister, Dance

Are You Ready?

Gerta came prepared for the worst at the Annual Dark Beer, Cabbage and Gyro Meat Festival.

You Know You Want It

The 2006 Men of Mortuaries Calender.

2006-08-10

A Very Needed Homegrown Cuteness Buffer

What I Did on my Summer Vacation

Went to see Brother with my peeps:

Hamish

Angus

Dalbo

Hamish with didge.

Angus with abundant chest hair and a satisfied smile

Dianne and cherubic admirer

Ruth and Heidi

Laura, Dianne and Drea givin' props to the band

Hamish multi-tasks

The crowd was divergent, representing all creeds, colors and dance styles. One man I saw had mastered some kind of Locomotion meets David Byrne in the big suit moves that strongly motivated his female partner. Others, in accordance with their enthusiasm and lack of balance, simply pogoed. I saw a five-year old boy execute some fantastic break dancing routines as others leaped after errant bubbles.

I got out there and danced when I could. Later, I served as a pillow to a very tired three-year old.

A Boy and his Chicken

Escher's "Relativity"...

...in LEGO!

And I promise that one day I will get over this ellipsis obsession I have... but not today.

Do you have some time on your paws?

Apparently, this cat did.

2006-08-09

Givin' a little tongue...

2006-08-06

"I say, I say, you're looking a bit hen pecked."

Christel Hammar-Malmgren woke up one morning in July to the sound of two roosters crowing. This was odd. She owns only one. She was soon to discover there was something running a-fowl in the hen house.

Anne Boleyn, one of her black hens, metamorphosed, no - not into a cockroach, but into a rooster. Anne had sprouted (no, not a third chicken breast) a comb, tail and wattle. She had been a little "different" from the start. She didn't take to her nest, gossiping with the other hens all day and her eggs were nothing to cluck home about.

Henry the VIII, the former head rooster, is shaking his tail feathers in fury.

"Henry VIII is bloody angry. The other hens are mostly just surprised but they seem to increasingly accept him or her," said Hammar-Malmgren. "She had lost most of her hen feathers and had begun growing a comb and tail."

But unlike the Anne of olde, there are not plans to take this Anne to the chopping block.