Grammatical

I am thankful for spell-checkers. It's true. I just ain't a natural born speller. In this day of smartphones, texts and tweets, I sure put it through its paces too. Sometimes it fails, miserably. Just today I got a reply to something I sent out that read "mfp?" I don't even know what I was trying to type, but not that. I sometimes wonder if I'd do better turning auto-correct off and going with the genuine typos. But I'm a really bad speller, and lazy, and my texts and tweets are SO important to the world that they must be transmitted without delay! So I let the spell-checker do it's thing and then blame it for any mistakes.

Imagine my delight when I happened upon this web site just now. If you can't: I was totally delighted. In fact, I laughed so hard it hurt. This problem with auto-correction seems to be so rampant that there's an entire web site dedicated to documenting the darndest things auto-correct makes us say! It's the most hilariously laugh out loud, gut busting, eye tearlingly funny, thing I've read in a long time. If you  have a few minutes, this is good stuff, check it out.

e.g.

10/10/10

Our two oldest turned 5 today. Five. From the moment they were born, they have been my joy, my inspiration, my gifts, my darlings. Happy Birthday little women.

With some friends at the Lincoln Park Zoo during last weeks Chi-Town vacation.

Hair of the Stoat

At 12 fluid ounces, 55% alcohol and $785.90 a bottle, The End Of History is soon to claim the Guinness Book of World Records tile of strongest and most expensive beer in the world! Made by the fine fresh fellows at Scottland’s BrewDog craft brewery, The End Of History is a blonde Belgian ale infused with fresh juniper berries and nettles from the Scottish Highlands. Meant to be sipped like a fine whisky, rather than chugged like a PBR, BrewDog aims to “elevate the status of beer in our culture”.

In true BrewDog fashion we've torn up convention, blurred distinctions and pushed brewing and beer packaging to its absolute limits. This beer is an audacious blend of eccentricity, artistry and rebellion; changing the general perception of beer one stuffed animal at a time.

One stuffed animal at a time? What the plush?

The impact of The End of History is a perfect conceptual marriage between art, taxidermy and craft brewing. The bottles are at once beautiful and disturbing – they disrupt conventions and break taboos, just like the beer they hold within them. 

  

That's right, they bottled $785 worth of beer inside dead weasels & squirrels.  Actually, it's 785 bucks for the stoat (weasel); the squirrel sets you back $1070! BrewDog claims the, um, labeling was done by a talented taxidermist and all the varmint were road kills. The run is limited edition too. Real limited; like 7 stouts and 4 squirrels limited. 

Unfortunately, The End Of History has already SOLD OUT. No beer for you!  At least you can feast your eyes on this and imagine yourself sitting by the hearth, warming your blue blood in a chair made of the finest Corinthian leather, lighting your cigars with $100 bills and looking down the barrel of this furry libation...

Yes, the were sold with the clothes. Stay classy Fraserburgh, Aberdeenshire!

9/02/10

8/9/10

Vacationing

Declaration

Bemidji is a sleepy college town in northern Minnesota. The “First city on the Mississippi”, the “Curling Capitol of the States” and home to those giant statues of Paul Bunyan & Babe The Blue Ox that grace so many a postcard sent off by  Northwoods vacationers to their loved ones back home. The city of Bemidji also has a lot of beaver.

It all started earlier this year when the city called for new works to be displayed in The Bemidji Sculpture Walk. They called it: the Beaver Project and it was hot. Local artisans submitted  pictures of their beavers for review and ten were asked  to paint their beavers on  fiberglass casts. The city of Bemidji then unleashed the 4’ tall sculptures upon the downtown area as part of a public art campaign. Suddenly,  Bemidji had the beaver fever. There was a big brown beaver, a blushing red beaver, even a fishy beaver. But one particular beaver aroused more than a few citizens when they saw it.

You see, as some folks strolled downtown Bemidji over the July 4th weekend, they stumbled upon artiste Deborah A. Davis’ beaver. Some were startled. Some were shocked. Some were steamed. Why? Because they didn’t just see a beaver, they saw a beaver with a vagina; and they didn’t like it. "It’s pornography!" they cried and they called the city of Bemidji to complain about Ms’s Davis’ porn. I mean beaver. I mean vagina. I mean beaver vagina. It got to the point that City Manager, John Chattin, didn’t know what to do… so he yanked it. The beaver, I mean. They pulled Ms. Davis’ beaver off the street to give the city of Bemidji some time to respond to the complaints.

“Gaea”, as Ms. Davis’ calls her beaver, was relocated from the downtown sidewalk to the front lawn of Bemidji Sculpture Walk Committee member, Al Belleveau, while the City Council prepped for an emergency town meeting on Tuesday. Ms. Davis herself couldn’t comprehend the controversy. She was all:  "My intent was to paint Mother Nature, Mother Earth…I didn't understand that some people saw genitalia...I understand people see different things in art, and they need to be free to do that…My intent was to paint a praying woman."

A praying woman, huh? I can’t wait for you to see Deborah's beaver! So let me finish this up. Long story short: The Council ultimately voted, unanimously, to bring back the beaver after even more complaints came in calling foul on the city’s censorship of art and expression. Several artists even covered their own beavers in a sign of solidarity. A few days later, Gaea was positioned back on her street corner and Ms. Davis was allowed to show her beaver to the public. Good for Ms. Davis and her “celebration of womanhood” and free speech and all that. Now check out her beaver...

In case you can’t figure out which beaver I’m talking about, it’s the 3rd beaver from the left;  the one with the three foot tall vagina painted on it. But, I don't know, maybe you only see Mother Earth praying with roses falling from her hands? That would be weird though. View Ms. Davis’ beaver, up close, and tell me what you think. A praying woman that looks like a vagina or a beaver with a vagina that could maybe, possibly, if you're really farsighted, be mistaken for a praying woman?

If you're in Bemidji this summer and want some beaver shots of your own, Gaea is located on 4th St. NW at Beltrami Ave. NW.

OMG

Oh my God, OH MY GOD! Dude really likes rainbows. And maybe mushrooms?

Go Fish

The Badger State Bass Brawl ended in a stalemate. Though, unofficially, I declare victory with the most bass (21) and the heaviest (4+)! Todd landed the 1st fish and, probably, really, hooked the heaviest too. Unfortunately for him, in his excitement, he forgot to weigh it! Oops. Too bad, so sad, I win. We had a great trip though; even with the crazy weather. Nothing like last year’s storms, but it changed from hour to hour. It was rain, then wind, to wind and rain, to a little sun, then a downpour. It made it difficult to establish any kind of pattern. Except on the last day when they were exploding on buzzbaits in the rain! That was fantastic bass fishing, let me tell you. And the 16 footer was a blast to fish from. Held up great the one time we were hung up on a submerged stump for 15 minutes.

The place we stayed at was perfect; kind of. We were in one of 4 old and rickety cabins; surrounded by 200 or so old and rickety RVs and trailers. But things were quiet, the people were friendly and the beds were surprisingly comfortable. There was a certain amount of strangeness here too though. We were in central WI after all. Luckily, it was all out on the water this time. First off, the dang Northern Pike were a menace. I landed 2 and TP lost about half a dozen baits, maybe more; including an expensive Honeybuzz; maybe two. That was a bummer. I did land the biggest northern of my life though. Pretty cool, until I had to get the hook out of its toothy jaws.

We also met a family of bald eagles. Again, cool, but a little scary. Within an hour of our initial launch, we spotted an enormous bald eagle soaring about the lake. For all 3 days it was constantly flying overhead and perching itself atop the pine trees that lined the lakeshore. On one swing around the South end of the lake, we saw its nest and let ourselves drift almost underneath it. That was until momma Eagle came swooping in from the North. She was so close I could see the steak knife sized talons at the end of her legs as she flew over us and up into the nest. We were about to get out of there before we ticked her off  but, just then, two adolescent eagles popped up from inside the nest. It was such a National Geographic moment. We just sat there for a while, watching them,  in awe of the wonder of nature all around us. Then one of the lil’ dumplins climbed up to the edge of the 6 foot wide structure, some 60 feet above our heads, turned around and shot a massive load of poop straight in our direction. We were done with nature after that.

But the strangest thing we encountered were some Cheeseheads in another boat. We were cruising a shoreline and they were anchored, fishing for crappie. They had their CD player fired up and it was pretty annoying. Not because it was rap, but because it was loud. I had to laugh when “You Can’t Touch This” came on. Next up was “Ice Ice Baby”. It was very odd to hear these in a place like that. And then, at the same time, TP and I realize it’s not actually Vanilla Ice, but a cover of the song and they’re singing “Ice Fish Baby”. We're both like, WTH? Next up was “I Like Big Bass and I Cannot Lie”. It was a cover album of tired rap tunes with the lyrics changed to sing about bass fishing. Only in Wisconsin. I fired up the big engine and headed for the opposite shore just as “Shoot, Deer it is” came on.

U Can't Catch Fish

Marsh-Miller

The countdown has begun for the Second Annual Twin Cities vs. Windy City Badger State Brawl. Todd and I will meet at high noon on Saturday for a long weekend of big bass fishing. Last year we were on a river and I was a little out of my element. This time we’re hitting a lake in Chippewa County that’s sure to provide some serious angling action. We also thoroughly checked out the place were staying at so there should be no drunken surprises at base camp. I’ve already stocked up on Sunscreen, PowerAid, Jack Link’s Sweet & Hot Jerky & Netbait Paca Craws. Also sharpened the hooks on a few of my Vision Lures Honneybuzz baits. That’s about all I need but, just in case, I have 3 containers of other tackle to throw at ‘em too.

         vs.

But to you my friend, Todd, I'm throwing down the gauntlet! I predict the heavy fish of our little one-on-one tourney will go to me. How you like them apples...chump?

Keister

This is 60 year old Steven Ferrini. He likes quiet drives around Lake Tahoe, bombs and speed. He recently evacuated the El Dorado County jail after CHiPs officers found an on/off switch in his pocket that was connected to wires in his pants that were connected to something up his ass.

Say what what?

Originally, the fuzz busted SF for zoning out in his car after he parked in a no parking zone behind the California Highway Patrol office. I’m sure Steveo was bummed when they spotted methamphetamine in the auto and pinched him then and there. But when the police patted him down, they found the switch and then the wires and then the heat he was packing . So Tweeker Steve told them right away what was up… an anal vibrator. Some junk the trunk, if you will. The cops planned to take him down to the local hospital and let a Dr. get to the bottom of things, but Ben-Wa Ferrini inexplicably “began to explain his knowledge of explosives and bomb making." Sounds about par for the course I suppose, but the CHiPs became concerned, the El Dorado County Bomb Squad was called in and the building was evacuated.

In the end, they verified that the device was, in fact, a vibrating sex toy in his tush, not an IED. They “rendered the device safe” but made Ponch pull the plug because the Bomb Squad rolls like that. Unfortunately for Mr. Ferrini, sex toys are legal in CA, but meth is not. He went straight to jail after it re-opened.

Lethal

I heard a funny news story on the way in to work today. Apparently, a deadly fungus, called Cryptococcus gattii, has recently been found in Oregon. It’s killed a few dogs, cows, cats, sheep, elk, alpaca and people. This particular strain, officially known as VGIIc of the fungus Cryptococcus gattii, gets into people after they inhale its spores. Once that happens, 1 out of 4 doesn’t survive the attack. This would be otherwise healthy folk who just happened to be in Oregon; breathing. Oh, the funny part is that they have no idea how it got there! It’s actually a tropical fungus and the CDC can’t figure out how it’s surviving in such a temperate climate. The wonders of nature, huh?

Anyone heard from Andy lately?

Prankster

I’ve  had some weirdness at work recently. I keep a steno pad by the telephone I hung on my workspace wall. Just about an inch slides behind the phone to keep it in place & out of the way. A couple weeks ago I found a dab of chocolate on the edge of my pad and was like, “When was I eating chocolate?” Whatever; I figured I must have done it. A few days and a few pages later I notice the chocolate spot  getting bigger. Not wider, but deeper, growing into the pad. Again I wondered, “What kind of greasy bonbon was I eating?” Again, nothing came to mind. Then yesterday, with the damn chocolate smudge even  bigger and soaked into every page of the left side of the pad, I got so annoyed I had to trash it. The last thing I did at work was grab a new pad, open it to the first blank page and put it beside my phone.

Jump to this morning. I’m logging into voicemail, ready to start my day, and grab the spankin’ new steno pad from behind my phone; but I have to hang up because there’s melted chocolate on it. Now I'm pissed and thinking someone must have thought it would be funny to leave a Hershey bar, maybe a Kiss or something, behind my phone. Then I ponder on this scenario a little more and decided that anyone who would do that mustn't have both oars in the water so I shouldn’t get mad. I better just remove my idiot co-worker’s chocolate bar and get on with my day. I peer behind the phone, even pull it away from the wall, and guess what? I find nothing.

I got a little creeped out after that. I’m thinking, "If a douchetard co-worker is sneaking into my workspace while I'm gone to smudge chocolate on my yellow steno pad, what else is she/he doing to my stuff?" I’m checking my coffee cup for short n' curlys, scanning my phone receiver for lick marks and sniffing my Chap Stick for butt. (How I vaulted from dabbing chocolate on my papers to putting my Chap Stick in their pants I don’t know; but that’s how it went down.) Thank God I didn’t discover any of that. But if it’s not a deviant colleague, and it’s not me, what’s going on? I'm seriously stumped, so I put the pad back by the phone to see if I have a magical chocolate squirting telephone that only squirts chocolate when you put a steno pad behind it. Guess what? It did. I’m like WTF!!! and ripped the phone off the wall.

Only then did I find that the bottom, right, rubber foot had melted into a chocolate colored blob that was still contained in the footing. To be honest, I first thought, “Who the hell filled this tiny hole on the back of my phone with melted chocolate!?” but realized (probably not soon enough), after trying to pull the gob from the phone, that neither chocolate, nor a co-worker, was the culprit. It turned out to be less weird than what I originally thought but, still, why the heck would one rubber foot start melting off the back of my phone? And where am I going to put my steno pad now? And do any of our vending machines have Toblerone?

Aftertaste

Meet Donald J. Wolfe. He’s 55, from Brookville, PA. and enjoys driving drunk, animals & sorcery. I’m gonna guess he’s single, but do know he was arrested this week, just north of Punxutawney, after a State Trooper watched him attempt to enliven a roadkill with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Several people saw Mr. Wolfe stop his car, on Route 36, after catching sight of the crushed creature. Onlookers report that the opossum was squashed and had obviously met its demise days before he discovered it. But Mr. Wolfe got out, knelt down on the road and proceeded to perform a service of sorts while making “séance motions with his arms”. When his hocus-pocus did not provide to revive, he tried more traditional tactics and placed his mouth “on or about the location of” the mouth of the breathless beast. It sounds like this is about the point the cops stepped in and stopped the show. The possum, also from PA, declined to file charges, because it was a dead possum, but police arrested DJ for public drunkenness...and being creepy & disgusting.

I was talking to someone just  last week about all the possum roadkills I’ve seen here this Spring. Not once did I feel an urge to lick one though. Opossum carry diseases such as leptospirosis, tuberculosis, relapsing fever, tularemia, spotted fever, toxoplasmosis, coccidiosis, trichomoniasis and Chagas disease. They may be infested with fleas, ticks, mites & lice and are also often hosts for cat & dog fleas; especially in urban environments.

If you do have a taste for marsupial, I won't judge. Just please do it the right way and follow B.R. Peterson’s recipe, from the Original Roadkill Cookbook, for Pavement Possum and "bake until crusty."

Bumper sticker on back of a silver Hyundai driving down S. Robert St. Friday afternoon:

I LOVE MY KIDS 

WHETHER OR NOT 

THEIR HONOR STUDENTS
  

3.14

Buoyant

I realized something last night. Along with my new Twitter addiction, things also slowed down around here after I got my boat in October. Yeah, A 1987 Fisher SV-3. A real fishing boat. I'm so psyched about this. It was one of those too-good-to-be-true deals on Craigslist, but the Mrs. said I should call the guy. I did and the boat was home with us a few days later. I guess I’ve been spending all my on-line time learning as much as I can about boating. If it’s not YouTube videos about backing a trailer down a launch ramp, its bass boat message boards discussing missing drain plugs and live well rebuilding. I’m a regular reader of boat sites learning the fundamentals like which side is port, what is a gunwale and how not to kill your passengers. I’m also constantly emailing my friend Todd with questions that are so basic I’m embarrassed to ask strangers. Like, "I just read about the Circle Of Death and I'm scared! What do I need to know?" It all consumes the limited time I have for extracurricular activities.

I took her out only once before I had to winterize the engine and put it in storage. It’s a lot different that the Outcast kick boat I’ve been using since moving to MN, but the old Johnson she came with seemed to run great and I didn’t find any leaks. The throttle and steering are hooked up fine, but the rest of the electrical on the boat, and the trailer, will need to be re-wired. (Which reminds me: Merlin, I need to ask you something… ) I even read the Seloc manual for my motor. That was interesting. I didn’t even know what a carburetor did before. Now I’ve thoroughly examined exploded schematics for every single part of the engine and located most of them on the Johnson as well. I’m no gearhead, but I am a pretty passionate bass angler, so learning as much as I can in the off-season is important to me. And with 3 tots, a wife, a house, a job and a need for sleep, the blog has been quiet. Not forgotten, just quiet.

Idle

I know, I know, it's dead around here. I think I'm still recuperating from "the holidays". That, and I've been playing with Twitter a lot. I'll get back into the the swing of things here soon; I think. In the mean time, here's some serious civic comedy...

Kid Uses Fart Machine During City Council Meeting - watch more funny videos

Do Geese See God

Happy January second, 2010!

That's 01022010 and that's a bad-ass palindrome. BA! Yup. Now try to take in the headieness of Weird Al. Yup. Weird Al Yankovic. This should blow your mind...