Hipster Slang of The Week - #1 in a Series

I've been very inspired by "Straight From The Fridge, DAD - A Dictionary of Hipster Slang" by Max Decharne. As the book jacket explains "Much of the slang popularly associated with the hippie generation of the 1960's actually dates back to before World War II, hijacked in the main from jazz and blues street expressions, mostly relating to drugs, sex and drinking."

I knew those hippies were a bunch of poseurs and sell-outs. THE BEAT GENERATION RULES.

Well, um, anyway, slang (or colloquialisms) can be useful and entertaining. Or annoying. They can be fresh - become stale - and go in and out of style. There are some I use with abandon (like "bummer") and some that never come naturally to me (like "sweet"). I thought I'd devote a post each week to some kind of slang (or unusual word or phrase). After I post I'll try to use that word or phrase throughout my week. After 2 weeks people will be telling me to shut the f*ck up but for now I'm looking at it as an interesting little social experiment. AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION PLEASE - feel free to join me and send any colloquialism that "trips your trigger".

So this week's phrase is . . . "Out to the wide"

Which means UNCONSCIOUS. Pretty simple huh? That shouldn't be too hard to slip into a conversation or two.

Stay tuned for next week's vocabulary embellishment.

Biting the Hand that Feeds - When Fans Turns Rabid

DISCLAIMER: I'm a VERY harsh critic on pop culture so be warned - I can be unrestrained and very nasty to boot. It's after years of honing my viciousness drinking wine with friends while debating the pros and cons of particular bands. One of my favorite writers is Cintra Wilson so that may explain some of my influences. If you haven't read Cintra Wilson I definitely recommend her - especially her critiques of Oscar night (before 2007 - she was too easy on them that year). Yes, it's tough being such a critical yet mindlessly devoted "fan". So easy too - you just sit back on your un-talented butt and whine about legitimately creative people being less than perfect. Somehow every hero eventually disappoints though - reminding me that creative juice will often pass it's expiration date. Yes, there are a few artists that surprise you and can put a new spin on their shtick but you can usually count those artists on one hand. In fact I just took a look at my CD collection and I couldn't find one band or artist whose stuff wasn't better in the beginning except, strangely enough - William Shatner. I know, I know - but really, the album he did with Ben Folds - "Has Been" was genius. Marianne Faithfull has reinvented herself but so many musicians end up doing "classics" and become cabaret singers of sorts. I think Jack White (White Stripes, Raconteurs) is pretty clever and versatile but he was a little scary when he started looking like Michael Jackson - and he married a model - so typical. Another artist who has yet to disappoint is David Cross (of "Mr. Show" and "Arrested "Development"). Thankfully he's still bitter, hilarious, unrelentingly uncompromising and politically incorrect. Which brings me to "Tenacious D in: The Pick of Destiny". It's lame - lame, lame, lame, lame. A prime example of dumb and formulaic comedy. David Cross and Bob Odenkirk of Mr. Show were embarrassed to release their full length feature "Run Ronnie Run" but it packs way more laughs than Tenacious D's recent wilty film. Where are the jokes? The clever songs? Where has Jack Black's bubbling, hyperactive and amusing stream of consciousness gone? "The Pick of Destiny" is a classically bad comedy that can't stretch its humor through 93 minutes. Why am I surprised - it's such a common problem with humor on the big screen. ("Zoolander" is the exception to the rule for me - and I'm aware that it's a love it or hate it movie). There were some marginally funny bits like the Sasquatch Mushroom Trip, their escape by "power slide" and the Rock Off with Dave Grohl as the Devil (an idea they've executed better in the video for the song "Tribute"). The biggest bummer was The D's music - subpar lyrically and lacking their usual "tasty tunes" and melodiousness. I played their first, self titled CD ("Tenacious D") relentlessly - not only was it funny but it TOTALLY ROCKED making it one of my favorite CD's of 2001. It was the kind of comedy you could quote endlessly and the type of music you could proudly blast in your car. It was all good - their shorts for HBO, the DVD "The Complete Masterworks", the video "Fuck Her Gently" by Spumco, and Jack Black in "High Fidelity" and "School of Rock". I loved these guys. Jack Black became one of the few men on my list of "do-able" movie stars. I lay part of the blame on director Liam Lynch who is likably nerdy in the deleted scenes feature of the new DVD but didn't do much in terms of framing shots, maintaining momentum or shooting the comedy with any passion. He seemed to save all his skill on the chronically conventional car chase scene and really, on that count I couldn't care less. When will fimmakers just STOP these tedious car chases and think of something more entertaining? I was surprised to read that Liam Lynch directed Sarah Silverman's film "Jesus is Magic" which is both exciting to watch and very funny (despite the slightly wooden and out of place musical numbers). Oddly enough, after all my complaining, Brad just asked me to explain the plot of "Pick of Destiny" and he laughed all the way through the synopsis. So maybe the ideas weren't so bad - it was the execution. I also wondered if the film would be much better to sit through stoned but if it doesn't work straight it just isn't funny. Dear JB and KG of The D, please bring back your "mighty juice".

A "Sensitive" Guy

So it's (almost) Spring and time to be messing about in the backyard. This is where Brad is truly King of His Domain. It took him 5 years to get rid of the sea of poison ivy we purchased along with this kooky old house. One of the things I like so much about Brad is that he loves to garden. He tends it and puts up stakes so the dogs can't trample all over the important bits. He points out flowers to me that I'm too oblivious to notice, even though I walk by them countless times. Brad does have a really nice feminine side to his personality. Sure, he's a guy - farting in bed, trucker's libido, laughing at his own crude jokes. But he's also a really good communicator and affectionate. I credit his Mom for this - when he was young she would sit on the stairs with him everyday for "loving time". She'd give him big hugs and as Brad says, tell him he was "King Sh*t of F*ck Mountain". Well no, she didn't actually use those words - she's much too sweet and polite. But you get my drift - "King Sh*t of F*ck Mountain" is a little Mr.Show reference for all you comedy fans out there. Anyway, it's gardening time and I appreciate all of these things.

The Ridiculous Post

I got a computer scanner which bodes well in terms of more posts. (If anyone is reading this thing). Honestly, blogging is so bizarre. I mean does anyone actually give a toss about what "I" write, think, feel, find interesting or want to drone on and on about? I know - it's the process not the cold hard numbers of viewers. But you can't help thinking about an audience when you put something up and that just reinforces the notion that my blog is feeding into some mass narcissistic social phenomena as well as my very own self absorption. It really creates a quandary or dichotomy or some kind of pesky dilemma that rings the bells of hypocrisy and meaninglessness in my already ringing head. I could go on and on about this as it has been gnawing, gnawing, gnawing at the very back of my brain. Hmmm, well - maybe I'll figure it out in some sort of satisfactory way at a currently unforseen point in the future. I thought a long meandering, pseudo-psche, obstreperous post might fill up some of the floating, nebulousness of this cyber-space so I'm actually messing with YOUR head at this point. Hah! But I do desperately wish there was some kind of spell check feature with this blog template. And really folks - whoever or wherever you are out there - PLEASE KEEP READING or this will be further proof of "the nothingness" and exacerbate my existential dread.

Do You Ever Wish You Had Someone Else's Talent?

Do you ever wish you could have another person's talent? I don't mean "taking" their talent and leaving them with nothing. I just mean HAVING that talent you really admire. An even better wish would be combining multiple talents into one unstoppable rolling ball of MEGA MONSTER TALENT. For instance - mixing the stage presence and vocal abilities of Kurt Cobain and John Lydon (Johnny Rotten). Or how about blending the guitar skills of Andy Gill (Gang of Four), Robert Quine, AND Carrie Brownstein & Corin Tucker (Sleater-Kinney)? Obviously these are MY WISHES and not yours - so you're going to have to come up with your own damn wishes.

There is one person whose talents don't need to be combined because she's got it all covered. That's Elizabeth Doherty of Gourmet Amigurumi. Wikipedia defines Amigurumi as the Japanese art of knitting or crocheting small stuffed animals and anthropomorphic creatures. Elizabeth takes the Japanese craft and makes it her own. I can't imagine it being any more ideal. She's got it all down - the skill, colors, accessories, attitude and the way she makes her crafted characters take on a unique life. I think what Elizabeth D makes is absolutely perfect. I encourage you to visit the GALLERY link at Gourmet Amigurumi to see her amazingly crafted, hilarious and mindbendingly imaginative work. P.S. - Watch her slide show at the Gallery Link - it's absafrickin unbelievably fabulous.

Is This Cheating?

Is it wrong to go back and rewrite posts? Cause that's what I've been doing. Just fleshing them out a bit more if you know what I mean. I believe that may be an example of Obsession/Compulsion.

Jude & I- Partners in Crime - Aunt Judy Remembers Food Fight

Here's proof that my memory is shitty. My Aunt Judy is the ultimate family story teller. I wish she'd write this stuff down. Anyway, above is a picture of Jude and I. I just realized it may look like I have a mouth deformity but I'm sticking out my tongue in concentration (trying to feign intense interest in my Dad's softball game). I think I was 12 or 13 in the picture which makes Judy 25 or 26 years old. After my post I received this email from her which actually sets the record straight on our food fight. I promise - no more boring old stories on my Blog after this!!

Here's Judy:
"HA HA-VERY FUNNY. But I think you have forgotten the fact that I didn't leave you at Grandma's, I dragged you back to my place. It was there your conscience got the better of you and you said you really wanted to ring Grandma and say sorry. I said go ahead-THEN knowing she wouldn't get mad at you-because really, it WAS all my fault. You just sat there in disbelief and shock, giggling as the eggs and flour dripped off your head. I told you to tell her I was sorry too (being the scared twit I was). I just realized - we must have walked, or taken the subway all the way back to my place with you looking like hell because I know we left quickly. But really - we did keep telling her not to come in, we would clean it up. She always thought no one could clean like her. No wonder I didn't learn to clean properly until I went to England and had my own family."

So there you have it folks. The end of my food fight story. You can now breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Farewell Easter 2007!

Good-bye sparkly easter eggs, plastic carrots and chubby haunched bunnies. We completely forgot to have an Easter egg hunt this year (or eat anything more traditional than rigatoni with pesto, pine nuts and sun dried tomatoes). Come to think of it, I don't think Brad and I have ever had an Easter hunt. It may be because he really hates chocolate - but that doesn't mean I can't hide hunks of steak, cigarettes and banjo strings around the house in 2008. He could hide new shoes and a good computer scanner for me.

Easter reminds me of my Aunt Judy and her practical jokes. Back then, (in the 70's) she was an International "Stewardess" and the most gorgeous and glamorous person I have ever seen. When I was 8 or 9 she took me to a Toronto park and swore that the Easter Bunny lived down a muddy ravine. We fell down the ravine with mud and water flooding all over us and our clothes. We could only get back up with my Grandma's hooked umbrella which we broke to bits. Grandma was OK with us breaking the umbrella - she was just steamed that our muddy clothes besmirched her immaculate kitchen. But that was NOTHING compared to the time when Judy and I had a food fight in Grandma's kitchen. I remember Judy breaking eggs on my head then sprinkling bacon bits all over me. Grandma was so mad that Judy ran to her own apartment and left me there. She knew Grandma was so nice she wouldn't take it out on me. Judy was my idol for many reasons but one of the most vivid examples of her utter cool was that she had a WHOLE SHOE BOX FULL of candy on the top of her closet shelf. Juicy Fruit gum and everything! When her kids were young I sent them a great big tin box filled with the most special candy I could find and told them the story of Judy's magical shoebox.

Sugarjet Power - Now in Liquid and Powder Form!

Yes Folks, not only can you catch the full-on rush of Sugarjet Power by post and image - it's now available in powder AND liquid form. Made for those special occasions when you want to lie back, tune out, throw in the cutlery and SOAK IT UP. Not recommended for children under the age of 14. Brought to you exclusively by SUGARJET - a sub-personality of Agostini Inc.. Next up - "Solid Sugarjet". Ten olfactory explosions in super concentrate CHUNK form. Rub it all over your body, rub it on your friends, just make sure to send me lots and lots of your cash.

It ALWAYS snows in April - Example 04/03/2007

In Maine, it always snows in April. Thankfully it doesn't stay on the ground long. You'll see our crazy old house and the lawn art my friend Eggs Benedict created. He's a very smart man - a graffiti artist and welder. His welded garden piece decorates our flower bed which doubles as our pet cemetery. Excuse my corny digression here. It's hard to strike a balance in a blog - you want to be entertaining but you also want to be truthful about those things that have personal meaning. I'm still trying to figure out that balance.

So, on to the personal remembrance. In the pet cemetary lies my first and most beloved dog Junior (always a truly GOOD BOY) and our cat Chelsea (always a bit crabby yet lovable to the end). Brad chiseled a beautiful grave stone for Junior - a portrait and the words "The Kindest Soul". Junior WAS the kindest soul and he was a very popular with my friends. Many tributes poured in after his death because he was a constant smiling presence in the life we shared together. You were the best doggy Junior! This is for Junior and any pet owners out there who miss the unconditional love from the unique furry creature they spent their days with.

Rotating Holiday Rollie Cart

It's true. In my old age I've been reduced to the thrill of doing "Holiday Arrangements" on my Kitchen Rollie Cart. I HATED holidays until this creeping sentimentality took over my life. It occurred to me that I could take advantage of my love of Dollar Store plastic doo-dads and Ye Olde Junk Shoppe knickknacks (aka: bibelots - what a great word eh?) and everything vulgar and garish that is overflowing into our barn. The best crap in my collection are the giant, light-up plastic ornaments for Christmas and Halloween. I put them around the house as "accent" pieces. I realize that Kitsch Decor is totally "out" among hipsters (was it even "in" 20 years ago?) and they're on to Danish Modern or Scandanavian Gothic or whatever the fuck. All I can say is look, I live in this place - I want it to be bright and colorful and happy. Dare I say comfortable and homey too? Yes I'm defensive, I haven't been exposed to much culture since I moved here 14 years ago. I'm taking a stance of embracing my screaming, showy, overwrought aesthetic in a desperate attempt to justify my existence.

While Visions of Platforms Danced in my Head

I've become obsessed by platform shoes. Is this a trickle down from some important trend I've missed? Brad isn't happy about it. Either because I'll be closer to his height or because he's trying to save me from myself (by leaving the house looking foolish). I spents HOURS staring at platforms yesterday. HOURS. I lost track of all time along with my self respect. Scroll down for some of the more mind-boggling shoes I couldn't tear my eyes away from. You can see the more practical shoes I've chosen. They should accesorize well with my new tattoo and skull bandana Rockabilly Ruffle Skirts (made by Paper Doll Productions and brought to you by Babygirl Boutique). Now I'm rethinking it all, wondering if a black pair of doc marten style boots would reduce some of the femmyness (I'm a "hard-edged" girly-girl). Right back to the beginning - shoes really do take a lot of deep thought. This obsession got started thanks to Jennifer Jellie Joolz and her link to Babygirl Boutique - once I got off their website things went downhill from there (shoes of more and more bizarre proportions). Just hit this link Babygirl Boutique for a wild and wonderful shopping ride.

These are "Hot" But He'd Probably Like "Plushy" Platforms even better!

If I wore these at home while giving Brad a couple of aspirins and a back rub, I don't think he'd mind this whole platform shoe idea.

F*cking Genius!!

I have nothing to say except these are brilliant.

High Heel Marathon - Did you read about it in the News? All True!!

Who says you can't run in high heels?

Crush, Stomp and Shimmy all over Rampant Capitalism

I know these must be "Protest Shoes" - no doubt created as a commentary on our consumerist culture.

Do the Ducks and the Sexy Shoes Kinda Cancel Each Other Out?

These shoes remind me of my soap holder - it has the exact same floating ducks in it.

Fly Your Freak Flag

And these are for all the patriotic hookers out there - or sexy Uncle Sam costumes. I suppose there are Republican prostitutes? I mean, you can never assume just because of someone's career choice. An artist friend of mine got all blustery and pissed when I tried to hit him up for painting donation when I was working as an HIV educator. He was bent out of shape because everyone took it for granted that he was left-leaning. I kind of learned my lesson but it didn't make me like him any better.

An Icon that's Grown Close to My Heart

I don't know how Brad couldn't appreciate these "Mud Flap Girly" light up platforms. Unless every girl's got 'em at the trucker rest stops. Truckers call rest stops "Pickle Parks". I think that's because of the very friendly strangers you can meet who are more than happy to help you "release" some of that tension you've built up after a long day of driving.

Of Ziggy Stardust and The Runaways

These shoes remind me of the good old days. The late 1970's when you could go to a stadium concert and cut the marijuana smoke with a knife. It's just not the same with all these straight edge venues. What fond memories - going to see AC/DC in my boyfriend Bill's Dodge Nova (a bright orange car - how fabulous it would be to have a car like that now). Yeah for Angus Young - AC/DC was one of the best large stadium shows I've ever seen. Bill drove so fast I'd have to hang on to the dashboard while wearing my seatbelt. He was a smart boy and looked like a slighty less attractive Gary Oldman. Bill played the bagpipes. Do YOU (Dear Audience) ever wonder what happened to your high school flings? I was just a teenager reading Cream and Circus magazine, dreaming of being a guitarist and doing overwrought drawings of my rock heroes.

Patent Leather Monster Mash

And finally these shoes which are really quite cool though unfortunately a little Hermon Munster-ish: Nice colors, interesting stitching. Do you dance in them?