Today I had a wonderful morning, and went into the afternoon with high hopes. And what do high hopes lead to? Disappointment. I was going to post this as a facebook status, but the stark naked words looked kind of dramatic. Hence, I have turned my grumpy sentiment of the day into a flower inspiration message. I don’t know what kind of plant that is, even though the photo is one out of a gazillion photos I took at the botanical garden just last month. The flowers look like upside … Continue reading
Searching for funny videos to watch on youtube, at some point I ended up typing in the names of things I like, followed by the word “parody.”
Adam Ant parody? Yes, as it turns out, there is!
The entire premise of this ten minute video is that Adam and his Ants go grocery shopping, in full period ensemble.
Since I posted an Adam and the Ants video in my entry last week, you might assume I have some sort of obsession with this band.
Adam and the Ants are sheer energy, awesome music with cheesy videos, featuring period ensemble and crazy theatrics. Two drummers, one pirate shanty, and a front man charismatic enough to totally pull off a pointless white stripe across his nose.
I have survived the dangers of Labor Day*, and summer is unofficially over. Today, as planned, I will write about the aspects of summer that make the heat a little bit less like a demonic torment upon your very soul almost worth it. If you recall, I originally had the idea for this single post back in early July, but instead wrote a weekly series about how awful summer is. Fresh produce While I have a couple of dedicated vegetable haters in my life, basically everyone else loves fresh produce. … Continue reading
I wrote this post earlier in the summer, but held it back because August was so cool. But now that it’s September and summer has returned to toy with us some more, I have decided to call it out on some of the things it’s done. Here is a melodramatic list of things that melt in summer and ruin my life.
Coconut oil deodorant, because I am a hippie. My deodorant is made of cornstarch, baking soda, and coconut oil, a substance which melts at 76 degrees and then needs to be stirred.
Shoes, when placed in close proximity to a summer campfire. Before the invention of vulcanized rubber, sneakers melted on hot days. We’ve come a long way, but fire still beats sneaker.
Skin, from my thigh, when backed into a summer grilling apparatus.
Chocolate, when left in my car, a thing which is fine to do at sane times of the year.
Ice, from my iced coffee. Even if I made it strong (and you can bet I did) it will devolve to an unacceptable level of wateriness before I am through drinking it.
Ice cream. Eating ice cream could easily have gone in the post about summer activities that are better in winter. You mean I have 30 seconds to eat this before it’s just milk and corn syrup? It’s like defusing a bomb.
Crayons, when left in the car. Sure, they look cool all blended together, but sometimes I want to draw things that don’t look like an acid trip, and I can’t do that with 64 colors which have digivolved into MegaCrayonmon.
This should be the penultimate post of Humidfest 2014. Maybe I’ll write some more if the heat continues into September, but at that point I think I’d need to change the name to GlobalWarmingFest.
Here’s a recap of the earlier posts in the series:
Back in olden days in Great Britain, you and your wealthy friends might be driving down the road in your olden days equivalent of a Porsche. Maybe talking about what sweet ride it is. “Oh man, gilded door edges, 8-spoke wheels and an 8-cylinder horse. Real improvement over the 1749 model…”
Suddenly, a rider gallops up to you, weapons drawn, and halts your carriage. “Stand and deliver, your money or your life.” And of course you hand over your money, except for the coins hidden in your stocking, and you protest as the highwayman insists on jewellery too, because your necklace is sentimental. And at last the highwayman is satisfied and gallops off into the sunset… to rob one more carriage of rich folk before calling it a night.
Typically, the whole thing went down something like this:
These days, you and your wealthy friends… ok, I I’m still working on those. These days, you and the pile of trash on the floor of the passenger side are driving down the road, when suddenly… cop. Maybe you see, but can’t slow down in time. You continue down the road, praying to Fharlanghn… but no, the cop car slips out of its sneaky hiding place on the side of a fish and chips joint, tracks you like a predatory animal, and then lights up like a seizure-rave of fireworks.
And you hand over your license and registration, except for that time when you’d paid for your new registration only a month before and hadn’t really gotten around to taking it out of that orange folder yet. And, if you’re unknowing in the ways of getting pulled over, possibly protest that you were on your way to a fire…oops that came out wrong. The cop doesn’t outright take your money or wear a costume that looks really good on Adam Ant, but the cop does give you a ticket which requires you to DELIVER YOUR MONEY. Just like what the highwayman said. Or sang.
It’s mostly tedium, answering questions about how fast you were going, sitting and waiting while the cop runs your information. No gun pointed at your head, no choice of delivering your money or your life. And yet… the cop does still carry a weapon, pull over your vehicle, and demand money.
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