Saturday, June 14, 2008

Daddy Sang Bass

Happy Father's Day to all you manly types! I hope you all get awesomely bad presents, because that's what Father's Day is for, crappy gift-giving from your ungrateful children who also don't call enough and could do so much better than that loser boyfriend of theirs and if they only applied themselves more, they wouldn't be stuck in a cubicle office job and also, why don't you visit more often?! Damn kids, they're so overrated.

May I present a few suggestions for the perfect Father's Day gift:

1.) A 40 of Colt 45. If it's good enough for Billy Dee it's good enough for me, I always never say.


Is your Pop less cool and more nerdy white guy? A sixer of Schlitz oughtta do it.


2.) Mmmm, Lucky Strikes.


3.) Since every man thinks he's the master of the meat grillin', these super rad vintage 50's coasters are perfecto for his Schlitz from EraPhernaliaVintage. Plus, what's with the floating heads? Did they not notice his apron says "Head Chef"?!

4.) Every Dad needs a tie, whether he'll actually wear it or not is irrelevant. It's the thought, dammit. This 50's tie from Hatfeathers Vintage is a little Dali-esque and a little cartoony. Much like my life. Jenn actually has a lot of awesome vintage ties--I almost wrote "toes", which I'm sure hers are lovely and all but a severed toe would NOT a great present make. Unless you were that cannibal BBQ chef above.

It might be a bit late for these presents, but there's always next year. You can always do what I do- buy stuff early, hide it, then spend the next 364 days trying to remember where you hid it all. And I only ever have one hiding spot, and that's in my closet, so the fact that I panic and forget where I put it is kind of sad.

In hommage to the day of the dad, here are a couple of me and my Dad, rocking the white guy 'fro. It was the 70's after all and he was a bad mutha', shut yo mouth.

Doing what I like to do best. Although there's no empty Jack Daniels bottle.


Doing my second favorite thing, partying my face off.


Wow. What a badass. The nerd doesn't fall far from the tree.


Happy Father's Day!

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Moonshine Martinis

You know, I don't live in a super urban area, it's not hip or trendy, yet it isn't backwoods Inbredville either. It *used* to be much more hick-ish, but the past 10 years this area has been flooded with out of state transplants and commuters, so I wonder where all the local yocals that *used* to be here went?! Every once in a while when the Last Of The Yocals come out from their cabins in the woods and head into the Big City to do their Dollar Tree shoppin', much to my amusement I get in on their conversations, from the toothpaste aisle while they're comparing toiler paper. Like I did yesterday. You call it eavesdropping? I call it a free show!

We join our cast in the middle of a conversation. Translators are standing by. Let's listen in...(and the teeth-grindingly annoying conversation went something like this:)

Woman 1: Billy said he seen you's guys down by the crick.
(translation: Billy told me that he saw you guys at the creek)

Woman 2: Yeah, him an' his girlfriend was tryin' to fix them holes in his tars he got from drivin' 'round in the junkyard last saterdee night
(translation: Billy and his girlfriend were trying to fix the holes in his tires from driving around in the junkyard last saturday night)

***Intermission....I couldn't take it anymore and carried on with my white trashy Dollar Tree shoppin'....met up with them again later in the Snicker doodles and heard...

Woman 1: Jaeat yet?
(translation: Did you eat yet?)

Woman 2: Larry's takin' me to that carnival down the way and we're gonna git sauseege and peppers. Y'comin?
(translation: Larry is taking me to the carnival and we're going to get sausage and peppers. Are you coming?)

At that point I was close to pulling a Van Gogh just so's I didn't have to listen anymore. Good times with the yocals. But like I never say, you can have a good time in moderation!

And therein lies the stupidness. This is PENNSYLVANIA. We are not southern, we are nowhere near the south geographically-speaking. In fact we fought the South in the Civil Way, people. Go Billy Yanks! Yet the old timers around here have a slight twang that MAKES NO SENSE. Maybe that's why it's called "Pennsyltucky".

Well if you're gonna talk like a yocal, you better DRESS like one! Although, not so much in a Clampett-rope-belt way, but a Petticoat Junction way. Like this cute vintage 60's pink gingham set from Morning Glorious!

(Now...have you's guys seen where I done left my banana puddin'?)

Monday, June 9, 2008

The Battle Of New Orleans

Remember a couple months ago I said family day trips are generally a better idea in theory than they actually are? No? How dare you. Let me recap: family day trips are generally a better idea in theory than they actually are. Case in point: this past weekend, just as I knew it was coming, The Fam had to take a trip to Gettysburg, not so much for the fun of it but more as a requirement for the ball and chain's grad class. Nay, he and the small fry thought it was maximum fun, to quote: "totally awesome!" Boys like canons and things that explode and make noise...

Yay! Canons are great!

...but me? Mehhhh...ugghhh. <---Actual sounds uttered by me. Ass hot (100 degrees, people), all outside, surrounded by tourists, walking. All things I loathe, with feeling! Don't get me wrong, Gettysburg has some kickass history which I do find interesting, to a degree, just not 100 of them. For instance, Devils Den.


Though my distance perception is off kilter, these ginormous rock mounds were billions of feet high. Can you can see the wee little random stranger standing at the top? I was at the bottom looking up, so these bitch rocks were HIGH and not "as a kite". Apparently the Calvary skulking across the fields had to climb over these piles-o-rocks and I guess it wasn't so much with the good times. So of course the boys had to climb them, to experience what they did, and all that. But not me. Unless Johnny Depp is at the top with a kiddie pool full of frozen daiquiris, my butt is staying at the bottom, thanks. Have fun, don't fall off, I'll wait in the car in the air conditioning, because that's what the soldiers would have done. No? Oh, crap. I suck at the "walk a mile in their shoes" and now a Gettysburg ghost will haunt me until I learn an After School Special kind of lesson.

Beautiful? Yes! Haunted? Not so much!

Did you know that Gettysburg is like the #1 most haunted place in the USA? Ghost Hunters said so, so it must be true. I took a jillion pictures, but no ghosts showed up an any of them- I ain't afraid of no ghosts, so what gives? Would they have shown up if it wasn't for those meddling kids? Was it the sight of the Mystery Machine that sent them in hiding? Damn you Scooby, damn you straight to hell.