I NEVER MAKE SPELLING MISTAKES IN THESE THINGS

So, apparently my ranting worked. My esteemed colleagues over at Straw HQ claim to have been besieged by submissions for our upcoming zine/project, so all I gotta say is: well, it's about goddamned time.

So, um, thanks. We'll work through this stuff, and by 'we' I mean 'probably Josh because he's good at it and the rest of us are lazy jerks', but, whatever works, right?

Now I gotta go pour alcohol into small glasses and glare out the window like the Grumpy Old Coot I happen to be. Don't let me catch you on my lawn, 'cuz I got a bat in my hands and an itch to use it, young fella.

Oh, and this is why Mike Patton makes me all tingly inside: Mondo friggin' Cane.

Walking With Hazel: Yogurt All Day Long

Today started out early, with Hazel actually dragging Dad out of bed by the arm so that he could make yogurt with oatmeal for breakfast. Then we argued over who would take the recycling out to the alley, and ended up doing it together, with Hazel carrying a lot of the smaller pieces of cardboard by herself. Then we discovered that "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" is the new way of saying "More yogurt, please!".

Then we explained to Hazel that if she wanted to sit on the top of the couch and watch everything outside through the living room window, she had to put some clothes on.

Of course, that was followed by a fight over whether or not the stroller should go on the couch, which wasn't so much about the stroller and more about Hazel's insistence that she could stand on the stroller while it was on top of the cushions. Then we discovered that "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" was also the new way of saying, "Daddy, pick me up!"

Then we went outside and did rubbings of tree bark with chalk and crayons, and then we drew animals on them and then put them up in Hazel's room. They didn't look anything like tree bark when we were done, but we still liked them, so shut it.

Then we watched all the parts of Spider-Man where he's swinging through the city, but skipped all the scary parts, which meant that we watched it for a bout five minutes.

Then our friend Sherri came over to visit, who used to work with Dad back when he would hit things with U-locks downtown, and we had a very nice visit wherein Hazel did nothing but tie Sherri's hair up in knots and eat Sherri's Timbits, and then Haze fell asleep while tying up Sherri's hair so now it's naptime which means that Dad has to figure out something for dinner that isn't chicken noodle soup or yogurt, so here's the song of the day.

Walking With Hazel: The Dummies Might Be Right.

Today's edition of Walking With Hazel has been canceled due to stoopid rain, crappy public transportation and Dad being somewhat of a doofus. Special thanks to Christina (aka The Angry Squirrel) for putting up with a sleep-deprived kid who wanted nothing more than to throw everything on the ground over and over and over again, because, well, y'know, DAD, sometimes kids need a nap.

In it's place we have one of those songs which sounds depressing when you read the lyrics, but is actually really, really awesome when you actually hear it.

Now I must go prepare vegetables. Be good, or you'll get no carrots, and then where'll you be, huh? HUH? That's what i thought.

And A Traffic Cop Let Some Strangers Get Away.

So, um, yeah. Shit. Has. Happened.

If you're a close friend and I've neglected to fill you in on the details, drop me a line and I'll give you the scoop. Otherwise, I'm gonna try and keep that shit outta here, because no one likes a whiner, especially on the internet, unless, of course, he's shoving a remote control up his ass, in which case, pass the popcorn, please.

Don't get me wrong: this is still gonna be a place of great bitterness and spite, but it'll be reserved for those things which truly deserve my bile, such as never-ending oil spills, the continued existence of Juggalos, and people who are just AGOG over double rainbows.

Also: you might have to put off with descriptions of the many awesome things my daughter is capable of, to which I say: SUCK IT. The HILJ is possibly the greatest force in the universe, and she's MINE, so I get to brag about her.

(Of course when I say 'MINE', I mean she also belongs to her mother, although I doubt her mother has any problem with me crowing about my daughter's fascination with licking her own reflection in the mirror, so there.)

So, yeah. There. A few things:

1. I've recently switched back from a Mac to a PC, and while normally the transfer wouldn't bother me that much, the PC in question is a wheezing piece of antique furniture that coughs up blood and lung tissue every time I use a search engine, so this Grumpy Old Man is in the market for a new Series Of Connected Tubes Provider; preferably cheap, but one that works, and yes, I finally get that Macs are better, as they tend not to use the energetic equivalent of a bender in Vegas simply to turn on, so, yes, I'm looking for a Mac.

So: a Mac that works, and is relatively cheap. If you were TRULY my minions, I wouldn't have to ask, but there ya go: you just can't find good help these days.

(Y'know what's awesome, though, Mac users? Right. Fucking. Click.)

2. My iTouch seems to have simply extinguished, as well. When I try and use it, it just whimpers and crawls into the damp space underneath my fridge. So, same as above: someone find me an iPod that can carry more than three songs on it without freezing, and I'll reward them with, well, something truly amazing. Like, yknow, gin.

3. Remember The Straw? Remember how we put a call out for submissions for our very first zine about a month ago? Remember how I said it could be anything you want, as long as it fit on a 8&1/2 x 11 page, so it's quite possibly the most relaxed set of publishing guidelines ever? Huh?
Deadline's coming up. July 15, 2010. C'mon, people; I know there are at least a few of you out there who can put a pen to paper without causing your brain to burst into tears, so let's get on it, 'kay? Thanks.

4. Lastly: if you see a cop today, give 'em a hug, and I mean that. Chances are, he or she's had a bad day.

That is all for now, except: this is the best song in the world right now, and if you disagree, I will kidnap your dog and eat it for dinner, and if you don't have a dog, I will do it to your child.

Walking With Hazel: Saturday June 19/10

Today we were planning on just going down to see the puppy at the end of the street who eats the sticks, but once again, he was nowhere to be found, so we just kept all the sticks in Dad's pocket, and decided to go to the park. On the way to the park, we passed three older kids who were playing on the side of the street while their Mom was inspecting a truck that she wanted to buy from one of our neighbours. There were two boys and a girl, and when one of the boys hit the girl in the arm, the other boy turned around and hit the first boy, saying, "Don't hit your sister."

We thought it was kind of funny. Then we heard the Mom saying to the lady who was selling the truck, "We looked at one just like this yesterday, except that it was hot pink, and my husband really wanted me to buy it, which is why he's not here today."

When we got to the park, there were two boys playing with a frisbee, so we stopped and watched them for a few minutes; one of the boys was older than the other, and kept throwing the frisbee so hard that it would go across the street into one of the yards, and the younger boy kept having to climb a small fence to retrieve it, but he never complained about it, so we figured he was fine with it.

Then we did all the normal things (play on the teeter-totter and the swings, ride the giant frog, climb up the ladder then refuse to slide down unless we were sitting in Dad's lap) until we got to the big tire swing, which Hazel demanded that Dad ride while Hazel pushed, but it turned out that Dad was too big for the tire, so we decided it'd be easier if Hazel pushed the tire with nobody on it, so she pushed it hard, and it came back and bopped her lightly on the head and knocked her onto her butt, which she thought was the funniest thing in the world.

Then she got up and did it again, only this time she actually tried to headbutt it, at which point Dad decided that we should go find dandelions instead.

Then we decided to fly around the park, which consisted of us flapping our arms while we ran in circles, making whooshing sounds like we were flying through the wind.

Then we went home and had crackers.

Quick & To The Pointless

So, yes: The Straw.

We are putting out a zine, and we would like all of you to come out and play. Details are here.

Now I must go clean my house, and then sleep. More words soon. Thank you and good night.

God. Damn.

Well, shit.

This was supposed to be a long drawn-out post about what's been going on this spring, with in-depth reports about the garden and various projects and Scientific Experiments in the Pursuit Of Home Science, as well as a farewell message to Jasmine (who is the awesomest) and a welcome back to Josh and Shanley (who are equally as awesome as Jasmine), but now I have to go in to work on my day off and don't I feel like punching someone in the throat.

Which, incidentally, kinda happened to me last night, when Rob tried to tackle me but accidentally drove his shoulder into my windpipe, so now I know from experience that it's not a pleasant thing to have happen to one's self, and ohmigod really? Really? I'm going in to work? Holy Christ. Just...GAWD, y'know?

Anyway: I'm not making any predictions, but here's hoping Philly holds out against Chicago and that Pronger puts Byfuglien on his ass more than a few times, and that Richards takes Kane into the corner and shaves off that stupid playoff mullet.

Stupid Internet Things:

1. Artist Kota Ezawa asks, what if the Beatles wrote 'California Uber Alles'?

2. Baroque Star Wars designs.

3. Goldfrapp giving you a Black Metal chorus line.

4. Don't honk at old people. Or they might do something like this, which always warms my cold dead lump-of-coal heart.

I plan to be in the shittiest mood tonight, so if anyone comes in and complains that they think it's 'mildly offensive and inappropriate' that I've named one of our coffees after Gary Coleman, then they can take a long hard suck on my left tit.