Weald

Weald

I have a friend who "claims" to always get lost when it comes to my humour. He "claims" that he can't follow what I'm talking about. I feel kind of bad for him cuz it's not like I go outa myne way to do it. I can't help that that's how myne brain works. So anyway,* whenever he claims he's lost I'm going to ask that he refers to being "displaced in the weald of my neurons." I'm sort of wishing I had known this word a few months ago when I first started writing. I would've named myne blog This Weald of Neurons. That woulda gotten the traffic! Oh hell. Of course someone took it already.

OK fine, maybe they didn't name it quite that, but did you read it? Now that is a weald of thoughts in which to be lost! OMG! OMG! OMG! did you see under the LEGO section? We can all join the Laser Enterferometer Gravitational-wave Observatory (LEGO) project!! How cool would that be!? Worry not, I did the footwork and found that all we need to do is email this guy! I'm not really into LEGOs, but how fun would that be to become friends with a bunch of astrophysicists, go to their astrophysics conferences, talk about astrophysics stuff, and then build astrophysics stuff out of LEGOs?? Who says science isn't cool? Not me, that's fer sher!

*I think it's interesting when someone says "anyways" instead of "anyway." If they're using it to continue a conversation, does that mean they are going to go down multiple paths and we're just gonna hafta try to keep up? "Anyways, while I find your choking fit fascinating, Wendy told me that Benji was not the father of the baby, but I totally know he is. She's a skank and he's a douche. Debbie told me Branden totally cheated in his SATs and that's they only reason he got into college. But I know Benji wants to be the father even if he's not cuz he'll get more welfare. Branden went out the other night and got so trashed. I give him three weeks at college and he'll be back painting houses. If they'll hire him. They'd probably rather hire Wendy, like she'd ever do an honest day's work. Please. Debbie wanted to go to college, you know, but her father won't pay for it. She's so spoiled. Maybe Wendy's brother is the father." etc etc etc  

Affront

Affront

Hmmm, I wonder if I affront anyone with this blog. Oh wait, someone would have to read it to be affronted. But what I find interesting is how going out of one's way to affront others has become a daily online occurrence - at least in the U.S. of A. And like many other things, we can thank the interwebs for this. What did people do to feed their drama before the nets? I guess they watched the news and listened to Talk Radio, found out what they were supposed to be pissed off about, and then hung out with people that thought like they did and trashed the enemy.

They say that the internets are good because they're allowing the hard-core introvert to connect with people via the webs. I suppose that's true, but if you were a hater and an introvert before the 'nets you still had to leave your abode to share what you knew to be true with others. Now they don't even need to change out of their grungy low-hanging stretched-out at-one-time tighty whities. They turn on FOX, get the dish, go on-line, and blam! instant troll with an instant audience to bitch at about how wrong everyone is who thinks differently than they do.* But they don't go to Fox.com or where everyone is like minded. They go to YouTube or Yahoo or any news organization or, hell, even the IMDB. Why would you go on a message board for the new James Bond movie to bitch about an old James Bond movie?

So...I have a goal for myself and this here li'l blog o' myne.

In the 1979 movie The Rose Bette Midler's character is at a club with friends and she gets all excited because a drag queen is doing her onstage** (about the only thing I remember from the movie). To her, this is proof that she made it - when a drag queen lip syncs to a female singer, that singer knows she's made it. So the goal I have set for myself is to get a troll to say how much he hates me and my stupid blog. I'm not even funny! Why don't I get a life? (Lookit me, I'm so excited about the possibility of getting my own troll that I'm feeding him lines and he's not even here yet!)

Oooooh...I'm soooo excited I'm clapping with clenched hands!

*Which of course is idiocy, cuz everyone knows everyone's wrong who thinks differently than I do. (please)
**I meant imitating her, you trashy minded person.

Oriflamme

Oriflamme

I realize it's pronounced 'flam' and not 'flame,' but nevertheless, I feel like the definition should include a drag queen somehow. Or that I should at least be writing about a drag queen. 

I was gonna be a drag queen once - I spent hundreds of dollars on a new dress and a fitted wig and spent an entire afternoon at the Susan Posnick counter getting the perfect look. I was very excited because I was going to sing the National Anthem at the neighborhood t-ball game that evening. Well! I got to the park, bags in tow, and found that the community building was locked for remodeling!!

"What?" quoth I. "Where am I to change?"

Cripes. The only thing they had were port-a-potties!! Seriously - I'm changing out of my shorts into, oh here, I found a picture of it, and a wig and applying make-up in a port-a-potty?? Really?? Those things are freaking HOT!! I looked like I was crying eyeliner before I hardy even got it on!

Some wiseacre walked by and shouted, "Hey, if the Biffy's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'!"

"Hey there, Mr Wisenheimer, instead of being a smart guy, you could come in and help!" 

And I'll be gull darned if he didn't!! Nice guy, too. But do you know how hard it is to move around trying to fit into a gown with two people in a port-a-potty? Try it sometime! Seriously, try it and get back me!

So anyway, I was able to get the dress on (barely!) and the wig and the makeup and I was just about to make my grand entrance (or perhaps in this case exit?) when I realized I had put on my stilettos without putting on my pantyhose!! Dammit!!

So I sit down, pull the shoes off, pull on the pantyhose and...

Uh, why do I suddenly feel like there are a thousand spiders crawling up and down my legs? Oh my god! Women actually wear these things? Atrocious, bad, baneful, base, beastly, calamitous, corrupt, damnable, depraved, destructive, disastrous, execrable, flagitious, foul, harmful, hateful, heinous, hideous, iniquitous, injurious, loathsome, low, maleficent, malevolent, malicious, malignant, nefarious, no good, obscene, offensive, pernicious, poison, rancorous, reprobate, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, spiteful, stinking, ugly, unpleasant, unpropitious, vicious, vile, villainous, wicked, wrathful, and just pain wrong accouterments! There was no way in hell (as it were) that I was leaving that port-a-potty with the spawn of Satan digging their odious fingernails of death into myne legs!! 

Screw it!

I ripped off the gown and the hose and the stilettos and threw back on my street clothes and left! Whoever used the potty after me got themselves some free clothes and makeup.

"Sing yer own damn National Anthem!" shouted I as I walked past all the kids lining up. Guess I told them. It wasn't until after I stopped at Target, the grocery store, and got home that I realized I had forgotten to take off the stupid wig.

Wiseacre

Wiseacre

How can you not help but love this word? I always figured, though, that Wiseacre came about the way "Homey" turned into "Homefry" and "Homeslice" - or at least, you know, in some circles where such words are uttered..

Since I've been writing this blog I've noticed that the really obvious words always come up dry for me. I mean, Wiseacre, you'd think I'd have all kinds of things to say and yet, no, I don't. What am I gonna say

"Hey, have you read myne blog? I'm sort of a wiseacre!"

Whatever, Daphne. Obviously you've read it, yer here now. Cheese.

Same thing happened a few days ago when Scarlet Pimpernel came up. The 'sband thought I'd have a field day with it! "Why?" you may query. Cuz for as long as the 'sband has known me, I've been dropping

"They seek him here,
The seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!
Is he in heaven?
Is he in  hell?
That damn'd elusive pimpernel!!"

But other than saying I like to drop it once in a while, I got nothing. For educational purposes, I'll let you know that while there have been several versions of the film made, being a geek, I like the old one with Leslie Howard.

Uh oh. I just realized that I inadvertently indoctrinated you into the esoteric and elite group that knows the Pimpernel poem. And as such, it is now your duty to drop it occasionally at parties and things - especially if it's dull and there's a lull. But be careful - you now have the ability to entertain like few others, but with it comes great responsibility. Be wise. Go forth.

"Share the poem."

Mettlesome

Mettlesome

Speaking of books, I ran across a little number entitled Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match, which takes place during the Georgian period. That would explain the guy's haircut on the cover. On clicking the Look Inside!, I noticed that underneath the disclaimer about not buying the book if the cover is missing, which I've seen before, there was a Please Recycle symbol, which I have not seen before (at least not in books). Since the don't-buy-this-book-if-it-hasn't-a-cover warning is for the consumer, I can only assume that the recycling suggestion is for the consumer, also. I think if I had a book published and there was a Please Recycle! reminder on the credits page, I would be sad. I mean, really, I know that when one buys Harlequin one knows one is not getting high lit-trah-chah, but nevertheless.

"Won't somebody think of the authors?"

Speaking of Harlequin, I remember hearing (many years ago) that they had 12 new titles a month. I've been seeing a lot of different lines and imprints in used book stores,* and decided just now that I needed to see just how big Harlequin's become. Oh my. I have to admit, I was not expecting this. My fave, of course, I mean, how could it not be? is the NASCAR line. Who knew that mechanics and stock car drivers were such chick magnets? There are some where women are working right along side the men and this one where the woman has a more traditional role. FYI, in real life, there are four such cookbooks - three by men about grilling and tailgating, and this one.

Oh man, this could be one long entry if I don't stop clicking on links. From the Harlequin website:

"Harlequin Blaze is…The sexy situation in Friends with Benefits blended with the sheer romance of The Time Traveler's Wife."

Me: "Is The Time Traveler's Wife romantic?"
The 'sband: "No idea."
Look it up on IMDB
Me: "Why is the guy hanging from the ceiling?"
TS: "I think he just popped in from time traveling as she was getting ready to do a calf stretch."

I love my husband.

*When I mentioned all the different lines to the 'sband once at a store, the woman behind the counter asked me if I collected them. I had to disappoint her by saying I just liked looking to see what was out there.