I...love...springtime!

(Before he was a clueless gamer, CoCo poked fun at games Late at Night.)

I find that tangents are often best placed before the meat of a blog post, before the soup bowls are empty and the dinner guests have switched forks. Other times, I like a nice peppering of non sequiturs throughout a meal. How will I season this piece today? I suppose you'll have to sit down and suffer through the whole thing -- unless you'd rather skip dinner and spend your evening in your room, naughty readers.

[insert segue here]

So spring seems to have done that thing that tightly coiled wires are known for. It's time for husbands to mow the lawn and for wives to lounge around in the sun. As much as I sometimes wish the traditional gender roles still held, they do not. I am as likely to be pushing the Honda around the backyard as the Mister.

Much to our neighbors' dismay, we are putting off our yard's first haircut as long as humanly possible. It's not that we're attached to the weeds littering the lawn (a la a mother reluctant to cut her baby boy's curls), but more a mixture of unaligned schedules and a seeming inability to complete the lawncare quest in single-player mode. It would definitely be easier to get the job done if we had one of these:

I can see it now...just a few chords and your yard is perfectly groomed. Try a powerful guitar riff if you're not concerned with slaughtering the rosebushes; pluck out a classical tune for a more polished look. Grab Edward Scissorhands for backup and the two of you could do wonders to The Cure.

With all the hard work done outside, you're now free to play with your tools.

After you're through, wash your hands. Then check this out.

I found this very lightly-used toy table at Goodwill, suggesting that kids are just as freaked out by it as I am. I mean, the Cookie Monster Wrench is one thing...

Yes!

But what the hell happened to Ernie?

Yahtzee!

I believe I've finally reached the end of my word game binge. Okay, that's a lie -- this whole blog is a word game, if you look at it from the right angle. I guess an accurate statement would be that I've stopped clogging up my husband's smartphone with Wordfeud games and that I haven't played Words with Friends on Facebook for over a week.

Just in case you're unaware, let me spit some gaming history at you (camel-style). I'm seriously oversimplifying and not too obsessed with factual accuracy (consider the source material) so don't file this information away for Jeopardy or anything.

Alfred Butts was desperate for cash to fuel his drug and sex addictions. (It is unclear whether young Butts' sexual preferences included ass-play.) Sources are divided on whether the heroin or the punani sparked the idea, but in 1938 the game of Scrabble was born. Well, its whore mother anyway -- there were a few other hands in the tile bag before it hit it big.

Most frequently played word: B-U-T-T. Lecher or narcissist?

Turns out I'm a bit of a purist. It's Scrabble no matter what name you put on it -- and yes I realize that IN A COURT OF A LAW evidence could be presented to prove otherwise (different positioning of bonus squares, different scoring for tiles, blah blah blah) but just give me this one because otherwise I'll never get to the blog post.

This is me, assuming you're accepting my claim.

(Meanwhile, that is you, unable to do a damn thing about my party at which I'm crying because I want to.)

We begin the Scrabble tour with some salty snacks:

Note the proximity of the word "Baked" to F-U-N.

Then we move on to a light meal.

Soup? Or, if you're my parents, ICE CREAM.

And we'll round out the meal with some dessert. Combine cacao with some wordplay!

Unless you'd rather some ass-play. (Cacao optional.)

Okay, so maybe not the best meal. But I had to structure this post somehow, and I couldn't find an entree that fit into the theme. If you come across something that belongs with these three offerings, hit me up.

Now for some heroin to heal my soul food to appease my growling stomach.

I should be ashamed!

So...

 

...I found this shirt at the same time as another tennis-themed tee, so my initial interest was along those lines. I thought it might amuse the tennis players in my family so I forced myself to enjoy its message as well. My best effort was saved in the file name: Ormaybeyourcompetitorcantkeepupwithyouoryoureplayingracquetball.jpg. Yeah, so the racquetball shit was mildly amusing, but definitely too socially acceptable for my taste.
 
Flash forward to an autumnal visit to my local thrift store, where I found an old issue of JET magazine.

I chuckled a bit as I considered the marked drug use and [alleged] pedophilia attributed to the featured singers (and somehow overlooked the secondary story, "How Blacks Differ from Whites" -- missing out on my chance to check out how Michael Jackson factored into the whole thing). I may have even shared the photo on Facebook. But I didn't really think about it after that. 

Until I started purging my Picasa photo albums and the two photos above converged to form a new picture:

 

Use the force, Conan.

Conan's in the ATL this week! I should have pulled out all the stops (compare my ignorant interpretation to the actual origin of this phrase at the bottom of the post if this is something you care about) to get my ass in one of those seats, but alas I did not. I will have to settle for staring at this Obi-wan Kenobi Pez dispenser...

I miss bearded Conan.

Serious eye candy.

BALDERDASH TIME!
 
Pulling out the stops means:

• Physically pulling out STOP signs from the ground, to precipitate traffic anarchy
• Removing the brakes from someone's vehicle, in order to precipitate their death
• Removing stoppers from numerous bottles (of bath salts to precipitate the zombie apocalypse?
• Pulling out the knobs (called "stops") that control the flow of air in pipe organs, to precipitate a Mass with musical mass (turn it up to 11)

Look for the Bear Necessities Elsewhere

Yesterday had a cutesy format, which may have disguised the wealth of crap I presented to you. Today, I bring you crap on a platter IN YOUR FACE so you can't help but stare at the insanity before you.

For all you Pinterest fans:

1. Acquire inexpensive tee (expensive styles will not work for this project).
2. Spend hours making a doily (see another site for directions).
3. Attach doily to tee with adhesive of choice (needle and thread, hot glue gun, duct tape, etc.).
4.  Attach googly-eyes and beaded nose with adhesive of choice (chewing gum, nipple clamps, etc.).

And for Jewish sports fans:

Fun Fact: Israel has not qualified for the FIFA World Cup since 1970. (Maybe 2014 will be their year?)

This last one's for the music fans out there:

Oh wait.

Bear Country

When I was little, I preferred stuffed animals over any other toy. I didn't give a shit about Barbie's dream house or Polly's Pocket or anything else advertised on TV. (I'm sure my parents could cite an exception or two, but they would definitely agree with my obsession with teddy bears.) I had about a hundred stuffed animals, many with complicated family trees and personalities and "memories". I could have made a teddy bear soap opera with all the plots I had running simultaneously.

It turns out that I'm not the only one with a love for teddy bears. We insist on anthropomorphizing them all these years after Roosevelt's burial, reinterpreting these powerful beasts to downplay the danger innate to all wild animals.

Whatever works, I guess.

So, I'd like to invite you to Bear Country...

Some of us are just content to hang out and enjoy the view.

But we've also got a burgeoning labor force determined to make our city the best and brightest.

 

We're quickly becoming a popular vacation destination!

Just don't feed us after midnight.

Yes + other maritime symbols

This is the nautical flag indicating the affirmative. Not sure how useful it's going to be on land or if just on wide individuals that can be seen from the sea. I'm going to have to advise the wearer of this shirt to avoid dark alleyways, because although Baa means no, this flag definitely doesn't.

My research introduced me to a few potentially useful symbols (which I've deemed more interesting than trying to find more to say about the Enabler tee). They all have potential, but it seems that 

A		Alpha	I have a diver below, keep clear at slow speed. It's only a two-passenger vessel, but you're welcome to watch.
B		Bravo	I am taking on, discharging or carrying dangerous cargo. Tharr she blows!
C		Charlie	Yes or Affirmative Faster, damnit! Ramming speed! Affirmative!
D		Delta	I am maneuvering with difficulty, keep clear of me. This "never" happens to me.
E		Echo	I am altering my course to starboard. I think it's your turn for some rug burn.
F		Foxtrot	I am disabled, communicate with me. I still live with my parents, but pr0n is not working for me anymore.
G		Golf	I require a pilot. It's been a while. I do believe I'll lower my standards tonight.
H		Hotel	I have a pilot on board. Taken (forever, for the night, until I fuck this up).
I		India	I am altering my course to port. I think it's time I take the wheel.
J		Juliet	I am on fire and have dangerous cargo, keep clear. Don't touch me.
K		Kilo	You should stop your vessel immediately. I'm not in the mood and you're embarrassing yourself. Just stop.
L		Lima	I wish to communicate with you. Why can't we ever just cuddle?
M		Mike	My vessel is stopped, making no way. She's not in the mood.
N		November	No or Negative. Not. Gonna. Happen.
O		Oscar	Man overboard. Skeet skeet.
P		Papa	All aboard, proceeding to sea. Swim, my children!
Q		Quebec	My vessel is healthy, request clearance into port. Clean bill of health, scout's honor.
R		Romeo	The way is off my ship. Get off me.
S		Sierra	Moving astern. Getting into position.
T		Tango	Keep clear, engaged in trawling. I'll be playing the numbers game tonight.
U		Uniform	You are running into danger. Psycho straight ahead. Abandon ship.
V		Victor	I require assistance (not in distress). Well, don't just lie there like a cold, dead fish. Gyrate or whatever it is that you do.
W		Whiskey	I require medical assistance. What the fuck did you do?!?
X		X-ray	Stop carrying out your intentions and watch for my signals. You're doing it all wrong. Let me show you how it's done.
Y		Yankee	I am dragging my anchor. When you've got an anchor like this, what other option do you have?
Z		Zulu	I require a tug. Can you give me a hand?

Before I identified this as a maritime symbol, I misidentified it as the flag of Thailand. This line of thinking led me to discover this story about a startling fashion trend in Thailand. Not really pertinent, but strange (as things from Thailand often are).