Thursday, March 30, 2006

Snakes On a Plane!

I have no clue how to even begin to explain this, so all I'm going to say is:

1. First, take a gander at
2. Then check out
this magnificent blog.
3. And finally, that blog also hosts an "
Official Script Review." Which is totally fantastical and I guarantee that you will love it.

There are just layers upon layers of comedic gold here, a mighty vein running through the fertile mountains of America. And they are some funny mountains, let me tell you. And yes, there are snakes on those mountains.

"See, I will send venomous snakes among you, vipers that cannot be charmed, and they will bite you..." - Jeremiah 8:17

"Enough is enough, I've had it with these snakes." - Samuel L. Jackson

Better than a burglar alarm.

Crazy Cat Terrorizes Connecticut Town

Wed., March 29th 2006
Associated Press

FAIRFIELD, Conn. - Residents of the neighborhood of Sunset Circle say they have been terrorized by a crazy cat named Lewis. Lewis for his part has been uniquely cited, personally issued a restraining order by the town's animal control officer.

"He looks like Felix the Cat and has six toes on each foot, each with a long claw," Janet Kettman, a neighbor said Monday. "They are formidable weapons."

The neighbors said those weapons, along with catlike stealth, have allowed Lewis to attack at least a half dozen people and ambush the Avon lady as she was getting out of her car.

Some of those who were bitten and scratched ended up seeking treatment at area hospitals.

Animal Control Officer Rachel Solveira placed a restraining order on him. It was the first time such an action was taken against a cat in Fairfield.

In effect, Lewis is under house arrest, forbidden to leave his home.

Solveira also arrested the cat's owner, Ruth Cisero, charging her with failing to comply with the restraining order and reckless endangerment.

I particularly love that the AP chose to describe a cat's stealth as being "catlike." Their thesauruses must be collecting a lot of dust on the shelf.

I also love how they're taunting the supposedly psychotic cat with one of those feathers-on-a-stick things. Because taunting an angry cat, that's always a fine idea. And I have the mangled forearms to prove it.

Monday, March 20, 2006 I hear the Birthday Beagle approaching?

In two weeks, I'll be 27.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that yet.

I do know this much, though: I'm glad I cut my hair.
(It hadn't been cut since before I went to Europe...last May.)

(Later this week: pictures from my trip to the "World's Tallest Indian" in Ironwood, MI.)

Ready the bustle!

No, I won't be needing a bustle anytime soon (thank GOD!), but I just wanted to take a moment to give a shout-out to my dear chum, near-birthday twin. and longtime faithful reader, Regina.

You may remember Regina from such epic Montana misadventures as:

--When she showed up dressed in bunny ears and abducted me one Easter weekend
--The time we went skiing with Curly, the surliest ski instructor over the age of 70 in the state of Montana
--When we went camping on sand dunes (aka Tattooine) surrounded by poison ivy one 4th of July
--The time we went horseback riding and my horse tried to lay down while I was still on its back
--One weekend in Billings where I was simultaneously faced with death by freezing, dog attacks (of love, I was told), and a drunken Mizzourian

Oh, there's more, but that's not important right now. What is important is that Regina called me on Saturday to let me know that she got engaged on St. Patrick's Day to her longtime gentleman caller, John.

So congratulations to Regina--here's hoping that John can keep her in Boone's Farm and frozen pizzas forever and ever amen. And here's hoping I can get my sh*t together & get out there for a visit.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Beware the Ides of March!

Not these guys...

But these guys.

Although these folks make it look kind of fun.

In my 9th grade English class--which technically was a 10th grade English class, but let's not split hairs right now--when we read Julius Caesar one of our class projects was to re-enact the death scene in class, using knives cut out of construction paper, 20 of us swarming one poor dope selected to play Caesar. And it was AWESOME. Uh, bear in mind that this was a few years before Columbine...somehow, I don't think that'd fly now. But damn, was it cool at the time. (Actually, I don't think they even read Julius Caesar in 10th grade in WI anymore. Crying shame, it's such a nice departure from the typical Romeo & Juliet fare.)

The other project I undertook with my friend--and future college roommate--Melissa was to write song parodies using plot points & characters from the play. Most memorable was the "Portia Polka," sung to the tune of the immortal "Beer Barrel Polka."

You see, I've always been like this.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Happy 112,000, Bessy!

Bessy the Lumina hit 112,000 miles this weekend.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Lunch break.

I've been spending my lunch breaks parked down by the Oredock at Sunset Beach the past few days. (Yes, I know that it has the same name as a former NBC
soap opera.) I'm eco-friendly & turn the car off, but do indulge myself by leaving the radio on. Saucy, I know.

At this time of year, there's not a ton going on down there other than ice fishermen coming on & off the lake in their trucks & on their snowmobiles, but during the summer months it's a pretty hoppin' place--there's a boat launch, campground, beach, playground (sadly, it's one of those "modern" ones without any sharp metal edges to get hurt on, how can kids build any character with those?). There also used to be a run-down but endearing little mini golf course there run by the local Plunkett's pest control guy, but sadly that appears to have gone the way of the dodo during my four years' absence. "Boom town," my ass.

Anyway, while I was sitting there watching all the people driving around on the lake (were they all on their lunch breaks, too?), I was reminded of the following anecdote I overheard during my epic four days of employment at the telemarketing place (which, to the best of my knowledge, is true--though even if it's not, man, it sure sounds plausible):

A local guy's at one of the gas stations along Hwy 2, overlooking the lake, filling up his tank. A car full of elderly people (with out-of-state plates) pulls up at the pump beside his, all looking out toward the lake with horrified looks on their faces. Local Guy keeps pumping gas until the old guy driver gets out and approaches him.

"Excuse me, young man?"

"Oh, hello. Uh, can I help you with something?"

Elderly Tourist, indignantly: "Why do they make all the migrant workers stay out there on that open field?"

Local Guy is confused. "Uhh...what?"

Elderly Tourist points out at the lake. "All the migrant workers, why do they have to stay out there in those shacks in that big field?"

Local Guy responds, "OH--no, sir, that's Lake Superior. Not a field. And those are ice shacks."

Elderly Tourist, still indignant: "Well, why do they make the migrant workers stay out there?"

"Uh, there's no migrant workers out there--those are for ice-fishing."

Elderly Tourist responds, "Well, then, where do the migrant workers stay?"

"I don't think there are any migrant workers around here, sir. We're pretty far north, and our economy kind of sucks."

"Well, aren't there a lot of them crossing over from Canada?"

Local Guy is confused once more. "Well, yeah, they talk about it on the news, I guess, but..."

Elderly Tourist: "It must only be a few miles across that field there to Canada."

Local Guy looks out at the lake again, and sighs. "Actually, sir, that's not Canada, that's a town across the bay which is only about four miles from here. Still in Wisconsin. Canada's a couple of hours north from here."

Elderly Tourist, with disbelief and suspicion: "...Oh." And gets back in his car and drives off, no doubt failing to explain these facts to his equally misinformed companions, then deciding to drive over to "Canada" (aka Washburn) to look for Mounties. Or whatever else it is people drive to Canada to look for.

What I love most about this story--and there are MANY things I love about it--is that it just might top my previous favorite Ashlanders Vs. The Tourists story, which is the one about the time my brother's high school friend Ben told a bunch of southern Minnesotans that the Oredock is used to store apples from Bayfield. My god, and I thought I was gullible...I think it's like a right of passage here, to truly become a part of this community you must do your best to mislead as many tourists as possible after you finally CRACK after being asked ONE TOO MANY TIMES if Washburn is Canada.

Maps, people. Look at your freakin' maps.