The holy math proof is in my kool aid.

What? I'm supposed to be filling out 23479210573 forms instead of writing a really dumb blog? Huh? I haven't had any inspiration until the very second that these 'forms' became my project of the day? But..

Never mind those silly forms, you. Here is what is important today: Spiritual figures like the Popes and Oprah etc magically appearing on things like waffles and then observant, flimflammers citizens like me getting rich as a result. Because Ebay.

As you can probably imagine, I was pretty surprised when my daughter was making cherry kool-aid[1] last night and found a startling image in the bottom of the juice pitcher just before adding a thousand cups of refined, white sugar. Taken aback, we rushed outside to document this important event and I came to realize that if I hadn't become so entrenched in the many values of mixing FD&C Red No. 40 with sugar, I may never have had the moving experience of beholding this holy sight:

I want you to pause for a moment and really let it soak in. Let it wash over you. Just take a rest before moving on and breathe deeply.....

Okay.

Probably right now, your mind is reeling in amazement and you're like, "Is that.. no... could it be? But that's impossibly miraculous.... I think it might be....Yes... It's clear now that my eyes have adjusted to the virtuous light of my computer monitor or mobile Internet device.... I'd know it anywhere... I've seen that face in my dreams. I've seen it all around me. In the darkest nights and at the most beautiful dawn. It's the humble visage of none other than the sterling, Dr Phil McGraw in the red, silty koolaid mud powder of that dollar store pitcher!" And you rub your eyes with your fists in tiny circles and smile to yourself.

Yes. It is- and I have some corroborating evidence and diagrams to prove it. Lots Two of them. First, a visual aid:

See? Which is which? Dr Phil Twins? Camera 1... Camera 2... Camera 1 again.... And 2. Same. Let's go back to the left... and now the right.... Which is better? One on the left... oooor two? It would be like an animation if there were any difference between the two photos at all.

But maybe you're not so good at finding patterns and you need to see some diagrams? Maybe you don't rely on your poor, human eyesight and faith in Dr Phil alone- you're a soldier of science and you need to see a chart. I'm pretty awesome at mathing up charts and I'm a firm believer in backing up scientific claims and probable theories with proof via geometry and quadratics etc. In layman's terms, I think this venn diagram I've made around the transcendent Dr Phil outlines my point here pretty succinctly:

You see? They're all related. Not like family, dummy. Related as in homologous (*snicker*).

But what does this conclusive proof all mean? What is the message Dr Phil is sending us through my kool aid? Rest assured that I have the answer, and here it comes:

It's better to just watch the Dr Phil Show rerun if it's all that is on TV than to go outside and be mauled to death by badgers.

*X Files Music*

So, Zealots? Who wants to purchase a tshirt?

[1]Tangent: Yah. I totally give my kids kool-aid and it's neither healthy NOR organic. Those cults just gave it a bad rap. What's it to you, Hipsters? Eh? What could go wrong? My point is that it was on sale for $0.24 a packet & cheap overrules healthy sometimes. Besides, my mother gave me kool-aid all the time and the sugar did zero damage to my complicated and labyrinthine mind. In fact, I have my suspicions that it might have made me even more geniusly-enabled than I had originally been slated to become on God's little-giant list of people who are revolutionary. So back off, kool-aid haters. This is the good work. Fight the power. Besides, kool-aid now contains vitamin C supplements. Healthy AND Kool.

(There are a lot of really boring forms, okay? Seriously, I'm a smarter person than this)

Rollins Reduced, Reused, Recycled and Recovered. Well not really reduced. The opposite of that.

Alright, this was supposed to just be my project 365 photo, but it kind of turned into a good blog entry... so I'm pasting it over here with bonus information; I generally like to keep 365 succinct- except this once. Not all of you follow my 365 (BASTARDS! I mean, hey- that's okay, you have a lot of blogs to visit. I totally understand. *teeth grind*), so I thought I'd talk about it here. Plus here, I can post the ridiculous photo I took of Henry Rollins because it's not against my weird personal 365 rules that are forever changing and making me paranoid.

Breakfast! Also, you will notice a stamp on my lovely manhand (probably, there won't be offers of hand modeling gigs pouring in after this) from the Henry Rollins spoken word tour, a show that I went to yesterday thanks to friends, Janet & Steffan! (Who I now owe a sock beast) It was fantastic. Ironically, Ann Coulter was speaking at another event in town. OH to have those two in a room together! It's the only way I'd pay to see Ann Coulter, the she-devil (unless is was a mean spirited roast or public head-shaving, I'd totally go to that). Anyhow, I got a message to be AT the venue immediately if I wanted to go, and I did my best to materialize on the spot with zero speeding tickets. HENRY ROLLINS? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME??!?!

The show was 3 hours, spoken word. Kind of like a motivational sermon from an Icon of Punk. And he was really great, very interesting, outspoken and dammit, he was right about things. I was particularly impressed with his story about the time he walked directly up to Than Shwe's Limo and flipped him the bird, 5 inches from his face for being a conniving and cruel despot. It was so brilliantly American and reminiscent about why we like having our neighbors to the south. Props, Americans!

The message: Feed your own mind, question what you're told and don't be a jerk to people, mixed in with some colorful anecdotes and opinions. It was an eclectic potpourri of his ideas that ranged from football/people watching parties at William Shatner's house to human rights and filesharing music with remote teenaged Sri Lankans, self education and why it's okay for him to teach your children to shove beans into their sinuses, the internal struggle that stemmed from his guest judging RuPaul's drag race and the fact that every nation is full of the same humanity & vulnerability and we don't have to be afraid of badguys all the time- but don't take his word for it, go see for yourself. A well rounded show, is what I'm saying.

I took one super crappy picture that made Mr Rollins look like one of those Halloween-Leaf-Bag people doing the robot... from which you could argue that it was a setup and that I didn't see Mr Rollins at ALL because clearly I went to see a bag of leaves with a tape recorder in it.. or that I am just crazy, so I opted for a hand-stamp photo instead for my photo of the day. We can't have anyone questioning my sanity now, can we? No questions about it; it's questionable. >:D That's how I like to keep it... But I still like the hand stamp picture better.

The stamp reads, "Spectra Sonic". I kind of wish it was a tattoo.

In Turkey, they're called 'kaput'.

Sooo... The clinic today had a large, colorful candy dish filled to the brim with an assortment of condoms in shiny & attractive packages and a sign that read:

"PLEASE HELP YOURSELF!"...

...With little smiles and exclamation points and STICKERS. Like the adults wouldn't know what the bowl held without stickers attracting them to it. You know who's attracted to stickers? NOT adults. Adults are attracted to condoms. Just to be clear. Any condoms. Decorated or not. "Say.. is that a condom over there? Let me at it. I want to look at it", we'll say. "Hmm.. looks pretty plain, I'll take it anyway." To reiterate: no need for stickers.

Now I could go into the different nuances and deep societal relevance of that statement being pasted to a free condom dispenser, heaven knows I agree. We should help ourselves and the clinic is all about helping people help themselves and that is important... but Guuuuuuuys! Put the freebee condoms higher up on the shelf PLEASE?? Not out beside the kid prizes for good behavior. The adult prizes should be separate from the kid prizes. ALWAYS SEPARATE. Giant Bowl-o-Prophylactics: Top shelf. Every time. Here is why:

The thing is, I already have to drag 3 kids into the clinic and try to keep them occupied while we wait because they have no toys, no books & no TV; just a giant, enchanting, photogenic, attractive, sticker laden bowl full of candyesque condoms. It's like a cruel game of keep-away from the cauldron full of rainbow mystery. Of course the kids gravitated around it. Once I saw it, III was even tempted to fill my pockets because they went all out and bought a sparkle-rainbow assortment. But I don't actually need them *ahem* or anything so.... It was best to leave them for others. I'm a good person that way.

Anyhow, just so you know, I would have happily avoided the whole condom discussion for another couple of years- However, my rotten little kids can read and they KNOW about free samples (what was I thinking, teaching them to READ?? It's just asking for trouble if you really think about it). We go to Costco specifically to see what kinds of samples are available as a fun family outing. Everyone looks forward to Sample Day. LOVE samples. Howeverrrr, we were one of only two families waiting in the waiting room... the other family also had 3 curious little children following my kids every move. My kid grabbed 3 of the condom packages and walked over to me. Not to be outdone, my other kid grabbed about 8 of them. Then the conversation ensued:

"No, I'M having the blue one. "

"I saw it first!"

"No, you have this one, it has a picture of a rooster."

"NO WAY, I get the blue one... MOOOOOOoooOom!"

"What are you guys even doing??" I say.

"FREE SAMPLES, MOM! CAN WE HAVE ONE? "

"Free samples of what? GAH! UH.... NO."

"BUT THEY'RE FREE, SEE? Saaaaaaamples!!"

"Yes, they are free, but you don't need one."

"WHY NOT?"

"Because you don't."

"What are they?"

All tiny heads in the room snap toward me for the moment of truth, even the other peoples' kids. Now, Readers, I am not in the habit of lessoning the children of strangers about the ins and outs of condom use. (Get it? Ins and OUTS?? Fine. Don't laugh, I knew this was going to be awkward).

"They're just grown up stuff, we'll talk about it at home"

"WHY? WHAT ARE THEY FOR?"

"They're condoms, honey. They're not for kids."

"CONDOMS? COOOOonnnnNNNdOmmmms.... What's that? Candy? "

"No"

"Is it like a wet napkin?"

"NO"

"*whispering audibly* Is it for your lady problems?"

"Apparently. My lady problems currently involve a whole bunch of kids... so.."

"I DON'T GET IT. Why can't we have a sample??"

"You don't need a sample of that."

"It's circle shaped. Feel."

"I know it is. Stop feeling that. Put. Them. Back. In. The. Bowl."

"AWW.. I was going to make a tower."

"You can't make a condom tower."

"Whyyyy? I'm BORED."

*Whisper-yelling* Because they are for butts, okay? They're for people's butts. Are you happy? They are balloons and they're for people's butts.

*Intrigue heightens x 298,348%*
*Other mother bores holes through the side of my head with her steely glare*
*stranger kid whispers in her sister's ear*
*sister's eyes become huge*
*My ears bleed from the sonic anger boom coming from the other mother's soul*
*She has ninja mind powers and my head is shriveling up, good thing we're at a health clinic, the doctors will help me get my head back to it's proper, average size*
*maybe I can ask them to just sort of, leave the frontal lobe area a little larger so that I have more thinking space*

"OH MY GAWD. WHY DO YOU NEED BALLOONS FOR YOUR BUTT???"

"SO.... Who wants...... *checking purse*...... $13 and 43 cents? Was that a store with candy I saw just downstairs? Eh, kids? Mmm... we love candy... and me with this money and nothing to spend it on...."

Now, at this point I am sure you are judging me through your computer monitors for not being an upfront and articulate parent... but you have to admit that they ARE balloons and that they ARE for your butt. So that's one mom-point for Michelle. *high five*

Then I arrived at home & went to hang up my child's jacket and what falls out of his pocket? Yeah. The blue one. My mom-point is gone now. I'm just glad I didn't get a call from the school on Monday about it. At home is the best place for unwanted condom samples to fall out of your child's clothing. We can ALL agree with that. Or worse, he could have made it to the birthday party he's been invited to on Sunday with a pocket full of previously undetected condom samples. How would THAT have played out?

So I like to see life's bowl of condoms as half empty instead of half full..and empty is better because it means that people are taking steps to protect themselves.. or it means that I have to check my kids' backpacks before school. So maybe the bowl IS half full. All I know is that half the condoms are missing and someone is responsible. Ideally a very lucky grown person with a consenting partner has emptied it.... So you see? There is always a silver liner. GET IT? Liners are like condoms... kind of. So it's a joke. Anyway, I'm not very funny right now because of all the condoms & stress. Basically, I can't tell what is going on.


Bonus: Love in any language:
English- Condom
Turkish- kaput (<--haha). Czech - Kondom
Finnish- kondomi
French- préservatif
German- Präser
Spanish- profiláctico
Polish- prezerwatywa
Swahili- kondomu
Dutch- condoom or kapotje

You're welcome.

Just in case you want to die of awesome, do this:

Make this violently chocolate pudding/cake/mess. It's like chocolate volcano. The cake part rises up out of the thick pudding-saucy stuff like magic.

Looks hideous, yes?

Heat your oven to 350 degrees.

Combine these things in a bowl:
1 cup flour
2 tsp baking powder
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
3 tbsp cocoa (dark dutch process cocoa if you have it, otherwise regular baking cocoa is fine, but definitely not AS awesome)
1/2 cup of milk with 2 tbsp butter or margerine melted into it. Use butter. Just do it.

Mix it until it's a sticky glob and spread it into a greased 8x8 pan

THEN combine in a diffent bowl:
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup cocoa (again, use dutch process cocoa if at all possible for maximum chocolate mind blowing)

Sprinkle it on top of the other mixture. Just sprinkle it, don't mix it in.

THEN pour 2 cups of boiling hot water over the whole thing, don't mix anything, and stuff it in the oven for 35 minutes. Serve immediately with some kind of ice cream or whipped cream or just milk poured on it. Die of awesome. It contains about 39872342385656622019283 calories per serving.

The Bureau of Termination (B.O.T.) and awesome photoshops.

Last night I watched The Terminator for the first time. Yes that's right. The first time. Yes I know you're disappointed in me. I know. I should have watched it YEARS AGO. It haunted me for years like a little collection agency, sending me letters through my alphabit cereal.

"Dear Michelle, we can see no reason why you have not watched the Terminator, we have had it playing on the Space channel at very least, monthly since our maiden broadcast on Canadian cable. You have had every opportunity. You have one week to watch it before we begin to take evasive action. Every attempt to contact you has been fruitless. Stop avoiding us. We have even put Arnold in office in California in an effort to have him give you accusing looks through your television. Yes we realize that we should have made him the Prime Minister of Canada or at LEAST given him the order of Canada or put him in the house of commons, because mainly it would be funny to watch the Terminator arguing with Mike Duffy (AKA the Penguin) on the "What's going down on Parliament Hell channel" or made him lead the New Democrat Party into victorious coalition or something...

Anyhow, if you could at least watch 1/8th of it, we'd be willing to forego having you watch the opening credits. This is a great opportunity. We already know that your television is sitting on Ed Broadbent's old teak armoire, which plays into the whole New Democrat thing. What we don't know is why.... But our sources indicate that you have been intending to watch Terminator Salvation and the problem we have with this is that you will not fully grasp why robotanks are driving over perfectly dried skulls if you have not previously viewed the first three."

Kind Regards,
Dale at The Bureau of Terminations I, II , III and IV, Credit Dept." (which was signed in swirly alphabets with little heart marshmallows dotting the I's. I eat a lot of cereal, okay?)

So I submitted the following response via my son's alphagetti:

"ATTN: B.O.T.: I have in fact now watched the first terminator and my fears have been realized. I kind of want a fuzzy, sandy blonde fem-mullet, an aqua jacket with shoulder pads and a vespa that looks like a golden toaster now. I hope you're happy. You have ruined my fashion soul.

Sincerely, Michelle"

See? I can totally pull off the fuzzmullet & shoulder pads. It looks good.

So that's done. Now I have to track down Terminator II or a similar movie featuring Edward Furlong as a greasy Founding-Father-of-Emo teenager.

And this one because, well because who wouldn't want their face to be photomorphed with Arnold's roboskeleton? Also because it will give my ex husband nightmares when he's stalking my blog later... *snicker*

HURRY UP, GODS MUST BE CRAZY!

Doooooooooowwwwwnnnnnlooooooaaaaaaad!!!!

21 minutes remaining.... C'MON!

I am verrrrrra excited about this.

Babyproofing against Jeff Bridges with Scott Tukwila

Public Health Announcement

There has been an unpleasant development in this particular strain of zombie flu.  The symptom of concern seems to be uncommonly contagious, although somewhat short lived so keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

I suggest that you wash your hands, people.

Mulletwatch 2008 Report

Feast your Eyes.

The following spectacular mullet, which I've artfully captured with my cell phone camera whilst getting gas, is quite possibly the finest mullet in all of the land.  I found this particular mullet, featuring locks of robust sandy curls in the back, so inspiring that I have decided to model my infant daughter's own mullet after it.   Below you can view the progress thus far. Figure 1 depicts 'Mr Mullet 2008' and in Figure 2, you will see how far along I've come in growing my own little mullet-chia pet/child.

Fig 1.

Fig 2.

Freeeeeeeeeeeedom!

We are moving.  Moving moving across the universe. FINALLY! We have one month to pack it up.  I am excited. It has been in the works for pretty much ever.  There is no longer a choke hold in place in my life.  I get to control my own destiny now, thankyouveddymuch. 

So I won my and my family's freedom in court this week (not from jail, mind you but close.  Just freedom to move).  The stakes were pretty devastatingly high and wasn't holding out piles of hope to be allowed to go.  Thank you justice.  Thank you judge.  Thank you friends.  Thank you family.  I no longer have to vent about this on a 24 hr basis. 

I am coming out of shock and it's sinking in.  It's pretty sweet. All of the stress and garbage is over for me.  What should I do? Celebrate with oreos.  That's what.  Then call a moving company.  But first, oreos.

This may save your life.

So Neil and I were having a really deep conversation about really deep subjects when the topic of flammable snack food came up, as it always seems to when people are having important discussions.  He said that doritos were flammable.  Well,  I found this incredulous.  How could doritos be THAT flammable?  Then I started thinking about the other foods i knew of that were highly flammable... coffee mate... dryer sheets...  mushroom soup...  and I decided that I had to know the truth.  Are doritos REALLY flammable?  Well I just happen to have a bag containing 144 cheese flavoured corn tortilla chips AND a lighter AND a very expensive camera AND some beer.  So here we go.

  

It turns out that cheese flavoured corn tortilla chips ARE highly flammable.  Better than kindling flammable.  As in, I will keep my snacks away from open flames at all times from now on flammable.  

Thank you.

A quick note before I watch Family Guy.

So I made the big switch to cloth diapers for Eleanore about two weeks ago.  This was entirely on a whim when Libby asked what people did before there were disposable diapers.  This is not because I am particularly concerned or unconcerned (don't send hate mail, I'm not totally heartless) about the environment or because I need to atone in some way for carelessly dropping a beer can into the river last summer while admiring the beautiful wild life from a boat, either.  YES I KNOW IT WAS WRONG.  Nor is it because I don't recycle regularly.  I'm going to tell you the awful politically incorrect truth and just lay it on the line.  I looked up cloth diapers to show them to Libby and I discovered something out about them that I found irresistible an impossible to avoid.

The cloth diapers are cuter.  They are undeniably, cavity inducingly sweet little diapees and Eleanore must have them.  

Then I became obsessed with the notion of cloth diapering.  It can't be THAT hard... 50 years ago, even the crackhead mothers could pull it off.. and the websites I've read promise up and down that they will not leak any more than disposables and it's all changed since our Grandparents used them blah blah..

So I ordered them. Paid via paypal.  Waited at the mailbox for them to arrive.  Bit my nails, obsessed with thinking it was a huge messy mistake and then got 'em, Washed em as per the instructions and... Turns out it was all true.  They're just as easy.  Not a huge change in the laundry sitch, except that it's actually getting done more often ANNNND I will save more money for buying beer when I go boating this summer.

FIIIINE.  I won't litter again.  I'm SORRY.  GEEEZE.  Stop glaring at me through your monitors.