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by Richard Timothy | Feb 3, 2010 | My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
Today’s post needs to start off with a defining moment. I am writing about MY notebook and not THE Notebook. If anyone is expecting a write up about that movie… your disappointment may never fully heal. That being said, it’s the subtleties of life that put a smile on my face, well I suppose that and a good bottle of wine… and Bree, and rice crackers, and friends and family, and I’m really not sure why, but randomly yelling, “Woo Packers, Woo!” always makes me smile (probably some deep seeded MSTism)… ok fine, come to think of it there are a number of things that bring a smile to my face. Today though, I had a subtle observation. It was the little note book I always carry with me, where I write down random Smirky… Smirkable? Smirkish?.. Smirk inspired observations, realization, ideas, and inspiration, oh and sometimes the occasional grocery list.
What I found most amusing about it was the cover. It’s of the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing. The little white doughy guy is wearing a scarf and a chef’s hat… and nothing else, saucy little minks. His arms are up in the air, much like an American football referee making the “touch down” sign, or at the very least someone giving the pantomimed reenactment of someone saying, “Yay!” Or, on a closer look, you could say he’s doing the Y for YMCA, which was made popular by all those blokes living in that one village. As I recall they were rather big fans of playing dress up.
Still, apart from the little Y the little pastry man is making, he also has this brilliantly delightful smile on his face. Kind of like he’s been reading want I’ve been putting in my, or would it be his? Nope, never mind he’s just a picture, the notebook is mine. So, it’s like he’s been reading what I’ve been writing in my little notebook of ideas. It might sound odd, but it’s a grand little reminder of my goal as a writer, or as Donald O’Connor would sing, “Make them laugh.”
Then again, it’s pretty easy to get side tracked while looking at that perpetually happy face… things like what kind of evil mad genius decided to give life to a ball of dough, and who was the marketing rep that thought this creation would make a good spokes person for a company’s dough based products. If you really start to think about it, it starts getting a little creepy. This little monster is pimping out his family to be cooked and eaten by unsuspecting humans, and all the androgynous creature can do is laugh as you start chewing on his cousin Sigmund, the croissant that you just pulled out of the oven.
Then the imagery starts changing and you realize that the little guy is clearly insane. He’s always happily encouraging you to eat more and more of his family. And you, hypnotized by the buttery flaky goodness concede to consume more and more… OH THE HORROR!
On a plus note though, he does have the most obvious Achilles’ heel since, well, Achilles I guess. All you have to do is poke the little varmint in the belly and he becomes powerless ball of giggling dough. Plus, his giggle is so infectious that you just want to poke him again and again.
I take it back. The evil mad genius that made this baby Frankenstein type of monster is not really so much of a genius, or all that mad, but definitely still evil. I guess you could say the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing was created by a mildly sprained evil part time inventor… probably the same guy that is responsible for that damn Tickle Me Elmo.
Still, all of that aside, I do get a kick out of having the YMCA Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing being the cover of my notebook of ideas. It starts me in the right direction, with a smile. And in reading back over today’s post… I completely agree… bloody random post. Cheers!
Any insights you’d care to share about the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing? Feel free to share.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Pillsbury Dough Boy notebook, Pillsbury Dough Boy, Village People, and Make Them Laugh.
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by Richard Timothy | Feb 2, 2010 | Contemplating Complements, I Think There's a Point, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement
This morning was a “daaaaaamn” kind of morning. You know the kind, where you wake up with the instant realization that that you slept a bit wrong and as you sit up your neck begins unleashing a slew of profanity that would even cause the late Richard Pryor to cautiously pause and reflect that you have one pissed off neck. As you sit on the edge of your bed you attempt the simplest of side to side neck stretches and as you do so your entire world begins moving in slow motion. Then as you attempt to curse out the pain, the pain takes up all your oxygen and most of you vocal ability and all you can really muster is a very softly and slowly spoken, “daaaaaaaaaammmmmnnnnn.”
So yeah, it was an orange juice and ibuprofen breakfast. One of the things you can count on in these situations is the thought of when you last got a massage and if there is any stock or old Star Wars figurines you could sell in order to get the funds to have a traveling masseuse… sorry, massage therapist (as they prefer to be called) make a house call and squeeze, press, and pummel some of your tightened muscles into submission and relaxation.
While fondly remembering my last massage I recalled a conversation that the massage therapist and I had. To give credence to this conversation I’d like to point out a few things. You know when you were younger… or last week, or maybe twenty minutes ago while you were working out, one of the universal attributes that most people seem to equate to a higher yumminess score on the attraction scale has to do with a lovely and well sculpted gluteus maximus. I’m not even going to talk about how many times did that damn Buns of Steel tape. You might laugh, but at my peak, I cracked three different toilet seats.
There is something gravitational about an individual’s neither regions that is renowned for pulling eyes in its direction. This happen when the back region in question is departing from groups of people, random strangers, or spouses of thirty or more years. On the average, people like to check out derrieres. There’s really no polite way to say it. Also, this is not a sexist thing. It applies to men and women alike, and perhaps 99.9% of the Mammalia phylum… or mammals in general. Not to mention, people are constantly checking out their own butts. When people go shopping for new jeans what is the key purchasing point… if your hinder looks good the sale is ensured.
I remember having the occasional flutter of adolescent desire and imagine the “cute girls” having that “whose got a cute butt” conversation where my name might come up at some point in the discussion. Of course nowadays, I’m just excited that I still have something that resembles a butt as opposed to piece of particle board with a crack in the middle… no one likes falling victim to flat butt syndrome.
Still, one term that is generally used in describing a tushies magnetism and discussional fine points is its firmness, nay, its tightness. That being said, there is an important clarification that needs to be made. It’s considered a positive thing to HAVE a tight ass, as opposed to BEING a tight ass. These are two very different things, with very different meanings, and I felt the clarification was noteworthy.
Likewise, and this is what I wanted to get to about the conversation I had with my last massage therapist, which also needs to be clarified. When your massage therapist tells you that you have a tight ass, this is not a compliment… do not say thank you. Trust me on this. They will never find it as amusing as you do. In fact, they will never find it amusing… ever.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: sore neck, massage therapist, looking at butt in mirror, and working out.
by Richard Timothy | Feb 1, 2010 | My Cutie Baby Sweetie Pie, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction
In the midst of today’s postful creation I got an e-mail from my cutie-baby-sweetie-pie-wifey-pooh. One of the local papers did a little article and video on her, where she talks a little about what she’s been through, what she is doing, and, more than anything, about how she refuses to back down from her dreams and from her vision of helping others find their light.
So, I suppose the best way to put it, is it’s an honor for me to share this article and video with you. Call it a mini-Smirk if you want. Part of my goal is to bring a smile to your faces, but this post is about the smile Angela brings to my face and my life. Sure it’s a bit self indulgent, but that’s one of the many groovy things about being human, the awareness that you are being self indulgent and the consciousness that it’s ok to do so.
I’ll get today’s post out later today, but for know check out this article and the video. Yes, both links take you to the same page, I call it necessary redundancy.
Ok, now everyone look away, this is just between Angela and I… anyone peeking? Good, cause you better not or else… or else, something and um, yeah! You know for having a way with words there are definitely times I don’t do so goodly with them. Ok, so no peeking now I mean it!
Angela, I love you and I am so proud of you and what you are doing. You are my butterfly.
Ok you can all come back and finish reading now… ok so I’m done. Thanks everyone! I’ll have something else for you all later.
What did you think of the article about Angela?
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by Richard Timothy | Jan 29, 2010 | I Just Don't Get It, I Think There's a Point, It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
I’m finally going to do it. I’m going to Smirk my way into the political realm. I have no intention telling people what to think, or how to vote. I’m a firm believer of getting your own opinions in regards to politics and then never ever share those opinions with anyone ever, unless of course, you are congregated with a group of like minded political projectionists.
There is one key element that I hope all people take from this, nurture it and make it your own. That is, if you get a mass forwarded e-mail about any political individual, delete it right away. Never read these. This is because 99.99982% of the time they are lies, and 100% of the times they are smear derived propaganda designed to manipulate you. I don’t care what politician they are about or what party they belong to, Republican, Democrat, Green, Independent, Constitution, Libertarian, Federalist, or what ever party Ralph Nader is getting paid to run for, they are all just an electric from of political toilet paper. It smears crap all over the place instead of cleaning anything up.
I remember getting a link to this video a few years ago. The message in the e-mail was to point out what politicians are like and that they are the same all over the world.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-QNAwUdHUQ]
Click here is the video does not load.
Sure it’s a fake, but I’ll admit that the first time I saw it I was open to accepting that it was a legitimate politician. Granted, this was during the Bush monarchy at the time and my perspective on political dialogue and responsibility was a bit negligent and cynical at the time. The generally accepted and expected media response during the time was to stick their fingers in their ears and start yelling, “LA la la la la la la.”
I’d like to point out that 90% of the people I have shown this video to still believe and concede that this video is of a legitimate politician, handing a political situation the way they would expect most politicians to behave. Yes 90%, which is a statistic that I just made up and has no validity or factual backing whatsoever.
The main thing that got me started on this whole topic was an e-mail I friend of mine sent me yesterday. It was a reply he had received from Utah congressman Jim Matheson. My friend’s response to Matheson’s reply was this:
“I love how hard Matheson tries to stay out of any debate that could be even remotely controversial, but this takes the cake. Carbon Monoxide? Who is pro-Carbon Monoxide?!? What about health care, or the wars, or ethics reforms, or banking regulation…. nope, not from Jim!”
Apparently Jim is leading the way in anti-Carbon Monoxide legislation. I mean sure, one might equate that traditionally the first rule of politics is to do your very best to not take a political stand on anything that anyone might be in opposition to… unless of course a lobbyist for some billion dollar corporation is giving you perks that assist you in making a firm stand that protects a corporation and shits on the people.
Yeah, so maybe I’m a little jaded when it comes to politics, but it’s not like they’ve done a lot of good for the people as of late. I get that there is the random noble act and attempted to make things better, but it seems that there are far to many black knights roaming the political landscape yelling that “None Shall Pass!” at every noble gesture that any attempt to make. So far, all of the black knights still have all of there arms and legs, and the search for the Holy Grail is still just an idea being sketched in a notebook belonging to Sean Connery.
Yeah sorry about that, I got caught up in a few to many pop culture references there. So back to Matheson, of course his big legislative push is going to be for anti-Carbon Monoxide. He’s representing Utah, a state so red that you’d think it were a baboon’s blushing ass. This is a state where we gauge our political successes based on whether any new liquor laws get passed that enable drinkers the same rights that drinkers in other states experience.
I suppose that fact that Matheson is attempting any type of legislation at all, says something. Personally, I think it says, “Hey, Facebook is down and I can’t play Bejeweled all day today. I wonder what I should do?” and thus birthed the anti-Carbon Monoxide legislation, but then again all of this is just my opinion. I feel it’s important to point that out, because, well, I don’t want some to get emotionally unstable and attempt to violate me for slanderous frumpiness.
My political battle cry… “Can’t we all just get along?” I hope someday we can, or at the very least we’ll be able to wave a friendly hello at each other from across a crowded Earth, and everyone will be ok with that.
What do you think?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: politics, fingers in ears, and Monty Python black knight.
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by Richard Timothy | Jan 27, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking
After yesterdays epic struggle to Smirk about politics, I decided to let the piece breath for a few days before I jump on it again and try to salvage some of what I’ve written. It started well enough. You know, one of those, “No one expects the Spanish Inquisition” openings. Then half way through it, my comfy chair was suddenly replaced with a hard wooden one and a thumb tack was placed in the middle of it. At which point you begin to understand what kind of pain the topic was becoming.
So I bagged on what I had written and took the night off, sort of. I had a bit of a sit down, watched Rear Window, and then wrote a few e-mails and did a little research in the web. Once midnight rolled around I was struck with writable whim and found myself “doing it old school”… meaning I was lying in bed listening to Danger Mouse play on a small DVD player on my night stand, while writing this post on a legal sized yellow with blue lines note pad using what some might call an archaic hand held device, a pencil.
I know! When I say “old school” I mean “old school”. Sure I could have make it “older school” by actually mailing what I had written to me using a stamp and an envelope, but really, who has time for that. Besides I still needed to transfer the hand writing to electronic form. I did start thinking what would constitute “oldest school” or maybe “original school”, which I imagine could be done using a stone tablet and a mallet and chisel, but I really didn’t want to get rock crumbs in my bed… oh and I didn’t have a rock tablet or any rock carving tools. I suppose I could have used a screwdriver and a hammer, but that would have been cheating.
So as midnight spun closer to a quarter of, I was still rambling about rambling and realized I really better get to the point, or at least a point. So I decided to take the easy way out, which today means, stop motion.
My littlest sister, which means youngest, because my littlest sister is actually the second youngest sister, but for some reason littlest has always been synonymous with youngest, and I’m not really sure why. So Steph, littlest sister there, has been working some retail lately. The place where she works gets mixed tapes, or CDs, or something each month from the company to play as background music. This is music that is officially acceptable to be played with the intent that no one will get offended.
After the new mixed tape arrived, Steph started noticing a new song repeating every few hours while at work. The song almost instantly began to make out with the portion of her brain that causes one to move from the “I really like this” reaction to the “Oh my (insert deity of your choice here) I love this!” This is usually said with ones eyes open a little wider than what is acceptable for normal conversation. Occasionally a form of physical contact is felt necessary and the person experiencing this reaction will usually place a hand on your shoulder while they tell you about the thing of such excitable appreciation. In some situations, an individual may bob up and down a bit while talking about this said “thing” of new found delight.
The problem Steph experienced was there was no play list that accompanied the mixed tape. Thus the mystery of the unknown song began. Holmesing her detective skills she finally, after about three weeks of Google and lyric database searching, found the song, and a video to accompany it. So pleased with this triumph she posted this success and a link of the video on her Facebook page.
The song was alright, I didn’t hold it to the same level of amazing reaction as it did for her, but I did not have any abrasive reaction to it in any way either. But the video… the video was bloody brilliant, and as I start typing about it, I just might be bobbing up and down a bit in appreciation, but I’m not saying for certain. Simply, it’s just stop motion, but brilliantly captivating stop motion. Here, the song is called Her Morning Elegance by Oren Lavie, check it out for yourself.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiLulP9EErc&feature=fvst]
Click here if the video does not play.
It’s just one of those things that puts a smile on my face. Let me know that you think.
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: Spanish Inquisition, stone tablet, and excited face.
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by Richard Timothy | Jan 26, 2010 | I Think There's a Point, My List of Things that Don't Suck, Non-Fiction, Observationally Speaking, Public Service Announcement, Something to Wine About
There is something eminently satisfying when friends are over and you’re enjoying a collective collaboration of wine and one of the wines are being a little stubborn about wanting to open up so you pull out a decanter, which is not to be confused with a decatheter (which is actually nothing, but sounds like its related to a catheter, which does give one a moment of pause). You’d be amazed at the looks people give you when you mispronounce one for the other.
I’m a great fan of the decanter. Essentially it’s the masseuse of wines. When a wine is a little to tense and just can’t relax enough to let’s its true potential come out to be shared with others, the decanter, removes the “can’t” and makes it a “can”… usually.
A few weeks ago, there was a lovely little gathering at the house, were I had an old friends, who had just moved back to town, meeting new friends, because I’m a big fan of my friends being friends with my friends. Sure it’s a bit redundant sounding, but I think it makes sense. One of the wines that gathered for the occasion was a short life wine, meaning that it was designed not to last very long. It was only a year or two old and it had already peaked within that time. A peak is when everything comes together in the wine just right so that the flavor is at its perfection point. If you wait to long though, the peak expires and the flavor of the wine begins to pass away into a vinegary death.
The wine had peaked in November, and the friends that tried it over Thanksgiving were so smitten by the taste that they grabbed a few bottles to take home with them. You would think that two months would not make much of a difference, but then we popped that little tyke open and gave it some time to breathe, the wine had already entered retirement.
Still there was hope, there was the decanter. We unsheathed this tool of spirited divinity and… seriously? Spirited divinity? I’m really getting into this aren’t I. Ok so maybe I read a little too much Rilke this weekend, but it was worth it damn it… besides, can one really read too much Rilke? Answer now or answer later, but it is worth answering. Even if you’re not a fan, it can always be said that at least it’s not Vogon poetry.
Right, so we poured the entire bottle into the decanter and gave it another 30 minutes. The wine refused to revive. In events like this, there is one key ingredient that can usually bring wine back to life, and no, it’s not lightening, no matter how many mad doctors tell you contrary. When a wine fails, I say turn it into a wine that almost always succeeds. Turn into sangria… just add fruit.
There is something incredibly dreary about seeing a near full bottle of wine being emptied into a sink, never to be heard from again. So, I took the decanter of dying wine and added two oranges, one lemon, two limes, a handful of frozen blueberries (because I found them in the fridge), and about two cups of Sprite. I’m not sure why, but it seems there is something amazingly compelling about a container of liquid that is filled with fresh fruit. Ten minutes later, the decanter was empty, except for a few orange wedges.
I’m not sure if fruit is universally the great liquid rejuvenator. I don’t think a splash of lime juice would correctly accent a twenty year old scotch. Nor do I think a tablespoon of puréed strawberries would compliment a dirty gin martini. In vodka’s case, yes, fruit always helps. In the case of beer though, it’s a bit of a hit and miss. 
An orange wedge in a pint of Blue Moon receives the type of praise that some people only reserve for masterfully performed opera. At the same time, if you were to ask for a lemon wedge to be added to your Guinness, there’s a chance that some Irishman might smack you in the face due to your flagrant sacrilege toward the perfected stout. But for wine, it’s a life saver.
You know, I had a reader recently ask me if there was a point to my writing. I mean for me yes, there is always a point… the point is to write it. Then there’s the hope that the person reading it is entertained enough that at some point they smile or even laugh to themselves. For the reader though, I think that sometimes there really isn’t a point, or message. I think message is more of what they meant. 
And I think sometimes there might not necessarily be a message, just an observation. But today, there is a message, and that message is:
If your wine sucks add some fruit and maybe a little sugar and make that bugger into sangria.
It might not be very poetic, but it’s pretty damn useful… and it makes me happy. If I can save just one crap wine from the disheartening pour down a drain, then my mission today has been a successful one.
And to those of you that don’t drink wine, a little wedge of lemon can always add a little pep to whatever your drinking… except coffee maybe. That hurts my brain to even think about that one. You never know though, there might be someone out there are not only has tired it, but loves it. Still, I hope I never have to have that conversation.
I guess there’s only one thing left to add… Cheers!
Do you have any “save a dying wine” formulas that have worked for you?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: decanter, wine with friends, Rainer Maria Rilke, blue moon with orange, and sangria.
Today’s post needs to start off with a defining moment. I am writing about MY notebook and not THE Notebook. If anyone is expecting a write up about that movie… your disappointment may never fully heal. That being said, it’s the subtleties of life that put a smile on my face, well I suppose that and a good bottle of wine… and Bree, and rice crackers, and friends and family, and I’m really not sure why, but randomly yelling, “Woo Packers, Woo!” always makes me smile (probably some deep seeded MSTism)… ok fine, come to think of it there are a number of things that bring a smile to my face. Today though, I had a subtle observation. It was the little note book I always carry with me, where I write down random Smirky… Smirkable? Smirkish?.. Smirk inspired observations, realization, ideas, and inspiration, oh and sometimes the occasional grocery list.
What I found most amusing about it was the cover. It’s of the Pillsbury Doughboy creature baby thing. The little white doughy guy is wearing a scarf and a chef’s hat… and nothing else, saucy little minks. His arms are up in the air, much like an American football referee making the “touch down” sign, or at the very least someone giving the pantomimed reenactment of someone saying, “Yay!” Or, on a closer look, you could say he’s doing the Y for YMCA, which was made popular by all those blokes living in that one village. As I recall they were rather big fans of playing dress up.
Still, apart from the little Y the little pastry man is making, he also has this brilliantly delightful smile on his face. Kind of like he’s been reading want I’ve been putting in my, or would it be his? Nope, never mind he’s just a picture, the notebook is mine. So, it’s like he’s been reading what I’ve been writing in my little notebook of ideas. It might sound odd, but it’s a grand little reminder of my goal as a writer, or as Donald O’Connor would sing, “Make them laugh.”
Then the imagery starts changing and you realize that the little guy is clearly insane. He’s always happily encouraging you to eat more and more of his family. And you, hypnotized by the buttery flaky goodness concede to consume more and more… OH THE HORROR!
