Monday, July 31, 2006

Snowflake's Eye


It's so hot, hot like Hubba Bubba masticated, ejected and stranded on the magmaesque sidewalk. Maybe it gets stepped on and stuck in the treads of someone's sandals. "FUCK!" they say, discovering their new found elasticity to the earth. Jeezomanwhydoesthisalwayshappentome?

A baby's mouth, sweet like a fresh rosebud. Healthy gums, perhaps? An intimate look inside the orchid. A membrane. Sushi? Salmon? Shaved Italian Ice? Watermelon, cool, succulent and ripe.

Could walking on the Sun be this much fun? Maybe as much fun as a two year old snapping his first photo, "Diaper Bag- An Interior View."

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Friday, July 28, 2006

Water, Water




Sunday we were at the lake. Since the world seems to be ending we decided to take the day off and enjoy another sticky tar between your toes kind of day. It's a wonder anyone can breathe.

On a shocking note, I was suprised to come upstairs this morning to find Snowflake had poured himself a glass of Chocolate Silk. He went and got the glass and poured it to the brim. Dappling a few drops he was so proud, I had to congratulate him. What a guy!

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Thursday, July 27, 2006

Sea Toes


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Smooth Operator

Snowflake and I went for a walk with The Chidler tonight and decided to get Mango Smoothies from Target afterwards. That's all. They are soooo de-lish. I dream of them sometimes. Then how is it possible that I just bought this Thomas O'Brien 5' x 8' 100% wool area rug for only $37.48(normally $149.99)? Target how I love thee methinks, as I ignore my social conscious and the thoughts of some adorable five year old sweatshopping it twelve hours a day just for me and my clearance treasure. Purely sickening. Excuse me while I gag up the smoothie(No, no! Not on the the new rug!).

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Wednesday, July 26, 2006


Stinking around my brain- I was thinking about dooce's post about Leta's exploding language skills. She has a fondness for copsicles. Snowflake has a love for copcorn. Hmmm...

A platform bed is the best option for me. I should buy a high quality, well made one. Although it will be awhile, I plan on drinking heavily as soon as Snowflake leaves the nest. Groggy or lit up, I have a slim chance of breaking my neck if I 'fall' out of bed. Will I even have insurance then? These are the important things to think about.

The Tesla lithium-ion battery powered car made in the USA does 0-60 in like three seconds. Priced at a mere $80,000 it gives the $440,000 Porsche Carerra GT a run for the money in the RPM department and the enviro-department.

I love my subscription to Wired magazine. Not only do I read about amazing things like the Tesla, it keeps me informed of all kinds of current, quirky and up and coming cutting edge technolgy. This is where the world is headed and Wired is your directory, people.

Bonus: Mini USA always does at least one cool expensive advertisement per year. A few years ago they included a whole sheet of detailing letters designed by a master car pimper to put your "call sign" on your car. I was psyched. Beneath my window lies "Edgar Allen Poe". When some dumbfuck asks what that means or who that is I say haven't you heard of him? He's the newest, hottest fucking NASCAR dude on the circuit! Below Snowflakes window is "the bambino", of course.

This month, the sweet genius' at Mini USA have included a MINI QUARANTINE KIT. I can't wait to open it because it has another sticker inside! This is a holdover from my high school obsession with stickers and patches, Ton-Sur-Ton, Swatch and Blanc Bleu clothing. Marketingblurb had this to say-

Our Wired magazine arrived over the weekend, and we can always depend on quirky advertising or inserts of some kind. We were not disappointed, because Mini Cooper is promoting their Mini Takes the States road rally. The rally covers 4,000 miles and 19 states during a two week period. And to encourage Mini owners to participate, Mini Cooper included a Quarantine Kit polybagged and tipped on a perforated insert. The kit includes a sticker to place on your office door which discourages anyone from entering until a non-fatal, but highly contagious virus dissipates. There is also an official-looking quarantine alert letter to leave in the boss’ in-basket. Mini Cooper says “Don’t worry about taking time off. Who needs vacation days when you’ve got sick days? Let’s motor.” Marketing Blurb has no desire to drive 4,000 miles in any vehicle, but we do agree the Mini Cooper is cute.

Momentary melange.

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Nevermind the E, Take the Bunny!

FAMILY RETURNS HOME TO FIND REMNANTS OF PARTY ( AP) : A Fond du Lac family returned from vacation to find a group of people had used their house to party, leaving behind drugs, beer and even firecrackers while stealing belongings.

April Binder said her family found up to $25,000 worth of items missing when they returned home July 20.

Jewelry, heirloom fishing lures, a wedding ring, a gun, electronics and even the family's pregnant pet rabbit were among the missing items, she said.

No arrests have been made, though Fond du Lac police are questioning seven suspects ranging in age from 12 to 15.

The suspects also left behind marijuana, Ecstasy, beer, flares, lighters, firecrackers and cigarette butts.

Smooth move, shortstacks. Take the rabbit, leave the drugs. That's what I'd do.

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Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Opium Bed

I woke up this morning feeling like an owly caveman. Damn the bed I slept on! It may as well have been a cold slab of death. Snowflake the Spacehog sleeps like a cocooned caterpillar, shoving me to the edge where I cling for dear sweet life each night. I ached. Stupid feather pillow. It's like a bag of dust and air. There's no support. I took my bath and felt sort of human, but in pain. The kind of pain that makes you feel like a Senior Citizen. If someone had called my name as I walked into the gas station I would have had to turn my WHOLE UPPER BODY to look at them. Yeah, like THAT. I may as well have had a real HALO on my head.

Just as I was going in, out came my friend, my old aquaintance, a figment in my world. In the space of 60 seconds I divulged my horrid nights sleep, my sleeping arrangements, where the dog stays and revealed my new quest for a bed worthy of sleep(that beauty in the photo is the one I'm dreaming of). A stranger to sleepies and dreamies, he reminded me that he hasn't slept in his bed in five years and then told me about the bed he had made by an Amish dude.

I thought about our words and wondered. Couldn't I have just kept it upbeat and light? Instead I'm all about neck pain and co-sleeping. That is hot. Bah. I just run off at the mouth for no good reason. Maybe it's my lack of adult conversation and I just pounce on any unsuspecting bystander. Whatever.

In any case, can I get some actual Opium with this bed? Thanks.

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Monday, July 24, 2006

Is There a Vibe with this much Personality?

If you're scared of modern technology such as programming your cell phone, figuring out your digital camera or using your computer for anything other than the internet, then this sexy little round piece of robot love is for you! Face it, life is stressful enough, why should you have to waste those few precious moments on your hands and knees scrubbing? If I'm going to be on my hands and knees you certainly won't find me scrubbing.

The interface(that means machine to person operation) is shockingly simple. Charge the battery overnight, open the tanks, fill with cleaning solution and water and hit the power button and then press 'clean'. iScooba immediately sizes up the situation and the area by prepping, spiraling(it's so R2-D2 I fell HARD), crisscrossing and edging the floor. When he's done, he automatically shuts off. Please note if you're looking for 'quiet' operation, move along. He hums, LOUD.

Designed to clean a 100 square foot area, iScooba is best suited to rooms of this size or smaller. For larger rooms, he comes with a little battery operated unit called a 'virtual wall'. Using this you are able to section off a room and ensure thorough cleaning. If you thought this little dude was going to save your entire downstairs hardwood/tile in one fell swoop, he may not be the house bastard for you. If you're busy and have the time to do large rooms one section at a time, he may be the love of your life.

I put him in my slate covered bathroom, shut the door and went to the park. When I came home I found a sparkling squeaky clean bathroom floor. How fucking incredible is that? I think this alone is worth the price. Except for the corners. You will have to get off your haunches and clean those little areas yourself. This 'bot is made of quality materials, nothing about it feels cheap. Every part that gets skankified is removable and totally cleanable. Bonus.

He's so cute, well designed and easy to clean, I think I'm in love with him.

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Sunday, July 23, 2006

I, Robot I type there's a robot in the living room. The little discus is working overtime on cleaning the hardwood. The dude DOES couches, as in underneath the couch! Yes, I am testing iScooba. Snowflake is hypnotized. I am too. More on this little 'bot-skin later.

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Saturday, July 22, 2006

A Fair to Remember

Snowflake's First Coaster

At a Little County Fair

He insisted and LOVED it, even though twin four year old girls seated in front of us were so scared, the operator stopped the ride to let them off. Loving roller coasters at the age of two can only mean one thing. In the words of Bette Davis, "Fasten your seatbelts boys(mama!), it's going to be a bumpy ride!

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Friday, July 21, 2006

Call Them Tumbleweeds

Here's to all the ass lickers. While the hard working people are off trying to solve the world's problems or blogging, the licker is ass kissing(or really kissing) someone else's significant other. Or double dealing someone out of a commission. Or taking credit for inspiration received elsewhere. The ass kisser can be very difficult to cull from the pack, often assimilating likeable traits thus rendering themselves invisible for months at a time. Slowly they are kicked out of coveted circles, inner sanctums. Lacking doors of perception, they are genuinely hurt when they are rebuffed and rebuked. Never mind, like the cliche water off a duck's back, they have another idea to explode onto the palette of life(courtesy of the cubicle next door). Like a tumbleweed in the night, they roll down the lonely highway of life alone.

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Wednesday, July 19, 2006


In the morning mail at work was my welcome letter and application for AARP. Excuse me, mo-fos, but you just happen to have me in the wrong fucking database. For my trouble(psychological trauma and anxiety), you can send me the mo-fo-ing discount card, thankyouverymuch. AARP, AARP! AARP, AARP! Sounds like a mo-fo-ing seal. Fo' real.

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Karma or Coincidence?

orangina boy
Snowflake's Booze

pool boy
Pool Boy Greetings

special swirl
Special Swirly Pop

I think about Karma quite a bit. This past weekend I had a "moving" sale. My parents sold their house and all things they didn't want to carry into the next life were deposited in my garage. Luckily I had a chance to purge the bug ridden basement of clutter and crap. In the midst of everything, I came across an old 1950's lamp I found one day while walking The Chidler.

It was seven years ago that I found it curbside in front of a post-war brick two story apartment building. Apparently the little elderly lady that lived in one of the cool downstairs apartments had died. All of her unwanted belongings were left for the garbage man.

The lamp was minty mint, fresh and fruity as it stood in defiance of the surrounding debris. Cream ceramic and glazed with abstract turquoise blue and real gold brush strokes, the double tier shade matched the glaze colors. Bright swaths of blue and matte gold repeated the pattern of the base. The finial, a matching bright blue melamine ball.

It was perfect and it was mine. For the time being.

For a few years I kept this swank retro madame in my living room until I de-clusterfucked the room. Down to the dungeon it went. Years passed. Time moved on. My next door neighbor quit his job selling imported cars and bought a building.

The building that this lamp came from. A building he and his wife have renovated to sell antiques. The shop is in the apartment that the lamp came out of. His wife came to the moving sale on Saturday. I brought out the lamp told her the story behind it and gave it to her. Her husband came over and she relayed the story. I told them that whatever they did, they just couldn't "sell it". They thought that was cool and left to begin their days.

Later in the day she came back raving that the lamp was a talisman for them, her husband made an enormous sale to one person that afternoon.

"That lamp is home. It's good ju-ju for you," I say.

"I should run home and give you something, Heidi" she says.

"No way. If you want to give me something sometime, you'll know when it's right. That's how I felt about this lamp when I gave it to you. It's so weird, isn't it?"

She agreed and my mother added that her daughter is the type of person who gives things because she wants to, not for something in return. I was amazed at that comment. We had an excellent sale and I made a shitload of dinero. Enough to pay for the fucking crowns in my mouth. Yee haw.

Monday brought no relief from inferno like temperatures. Snowflake dipped naked in his new purple pool when I got home from work. When we went upstairs to take a bath, Mr. Naked was practicing his high pitched grunting and squatting as if to shit, trying to get a laugh or a rise out of me.

"You know," I say irritated from the heat, "if you crap on the floor or on your rug I will be very upset with you." I went into another room and let the fates cast the toilet paper.

"I crapped! Yeaaaaaaaa! Truuuuuuuuuuuuuuby!" I hear and come running.

Sure as shit, he shit in his Baby Bjorn potty chair! Thank the great beyond because this was like a curried ass blowout. I was amazed and proud and so was he. We called Nan & Gramps and then he jumped in the tub. He knew he was going to get the big payoff, a SUCKER for his moment of glory.

Cleaned and cute, we headed off to the only candy shop in town for a very special treat. A strange foreign lady wearing a funky long version of a dutch boy bowl cut blonde wig was asking a million undecipherable questions while we patiently waited to pay for the pop. She looked like one of the Dutch Masters. No, not the painters, the guys on the cigar boxes.

"Is that all for you two?" the owner asked.

"Yes. This is a very special sucker. We had success in the bathroom," I tell her.

"Oh, a potty sucker? Congratualtions! That is so great, it's on me," she beams.

"Really? Well thank you very much. We'll be back again." I say as Snowflake adds


I thought that was such a great gesture. I still smile about it now. It's not like it was just a Tootsie Pop or something. This was a grand sucker, a significant sucker and for free? It was an instant karmic sucker.

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Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Home Shithead

"Waiting to order tile, my two year old was in the store for well over an hour, now happily pacifying himself by looking at and touching the vacuums. Associate sidles his way over and mumbles he has to 'stage' this area with his sheepkin fluff and takes an attachment from my son. Never mind my son knew what vacuum it went with and the associate did not. Muscling us out of the area as he dusted, he asked if I needed a vac as I walked away pissed explaining I was entertaining a TWO YEAR old. I think he then realized what a jerk he was and asked my sons name as we walked away. He commented what a neat name it was and all I kept thinking was what a DICKHEAD."

-From the Online Survey for my "most recent visit" to Home Depot

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Monday, July 17, 2006

Hey, Joe

It always starts simply enough.

"I think I'll buy myself a new coffee maker."

I've never bought one(save for the freebie that came from that bitch Gevalia years ago) and I'm sick of spending nauseating amounts of money on espresso drinks from Starbucks. Starbucks isn't a 'treat' to me. It's a drug. A drug I need to quit. Every other week I cold turkey myself and then give in to the jones, mostly because of the maddening headache. These are the kind of headaches that make you want to bust out the cast iron frying pan and bash someone with it if they fuck with you.

I don't want to perfect the art of home grinding, tamping and knockboxing. I just want what I want when I want it. Yesterday.

A few years ago I purchased a Senseo for my dad for his birthday. I thought I would go and buy myself the cool red model. Cheap, chic and tasty. Then I hear,

"Just check the web to see if there's something else, something better, made nicer."

Of course there is. I thought about the squaty Tassimo by Braun with it's 'T-Discs'. You can make a variety of drinks including hot chocolate form Suchard(the only discs available are made by companies that are owned by Kraft Foods, blech). For a little more money you can get the Keurig B60. Keurig has a zillion varieties of 'K-Cups' to choose from because they sold rights to select companies to produce them(including Black Tiger from Coffee People!).

For 'alotta' more money there is the Nespresso D290 in red. With 19 bars of pressure and an automatic frothing wand, there is no going wrong. This is for the purest in me. No tea or hot chocolate, just pure unadulterated black gold. Like the Tassimo, Nestle is the only supplier of the pods for this machine. So you're screwed on variety(but spades in taste, baby).

As per my usual M.O., I have succeeded in completely confusing myself now which means I'll probably be going to Starbucks tommorrow and the the next day and the next.

Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio?

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Friday, July 14, 2006

Epic in Three Parts

For the past few days, J has been posting her personal saga in which she finally met her father for the first time at the age of 20. The third part really struck a chord with me as I thought about my sweet Snowflake, not knowing or having a relationship with his dad. She wrote about how on the big day, she bought flowers for her apartment and commented to her future husband, "I hope he likes me." My heart broke. It reminds us of the power parents hold in a child's life, imagined or otherwise. Although I take enormous pride in being the best mom I can be, I can never completely fill the place of the person he will always wonder about. Check it out.


Self-Portrait, Inverted in Photoshop

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Thursday, July 13, 2006

Horoscope for Today

AQUARIOUS (Jan. 20-Feb 18). This is prime time to adopt a new hobby -- preferably one that requires no schedule, no lessons and no special clothing. For instance, lying on your back and looking aimlessly up at the sky.

Note to self : Time to take a lover?

Wednesday, July 12, 2006


Retired to the boudoir at 10pm. Fell asleep around Midnight. Awoke at the usual creepy time of 3:15. Turned on Coast to Coast AM . Subject was about what happens to the souls of those who committ suicide. Thought of the dream I had when my brother died. Dark and subterrainian. Black, gray and grimey. Brother appears in tattered shredded dirty faded black clothing. A million faceless others in the background behind him, charcoal shadows cast by black and white flames. He is crying, moaning, crying. He has no pupils, just white eyeballs surrounded by black circles. He tells me that it is all a lie. There is no heaven. I think about the creepy new bugs that have appeared. Flat bodies yet succulent looking, their ass ends culminating in two sharp looking pinchers. Where the fuck did they come from? Some dark place, they now rest vampirelike in the blossoms of the Milkweed. I shut the radio off around 4:30 just in time to hear the birds begin their happy protestations. This mattress sucks. Sucks the life right out of me.

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Tuesday, July 11, 2006

My Brother's Bulb

Peeling like his brain

Just kidding. I love my little gooney bird brou-ha-ha.

Mod Aquapod

In a press release dated April 4, 2006, Amy Sticco Sweeney writes about the new bottle design from Nestle Waters of North America saying, "We designed the Aquapod bottle to make drinking water fun and exciting for kids, who love to sip from and show off the cool bubble shaped bottle."

Fork that. These are so delightful to look at and hold, I know they made them especially for me. I want to show off and sip. If they were made of glass and filled with wine, even better.

They ARE orbtastic! I'm going to go and lick one right now.

aqua pod

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Monday, July 10, 2006


jargon watch
Wired Magazine May 2006

crotchfruit n. A derogatory term for children coined by staunch advocates of child-free public spaces. Breeders (a k a parents) have now embraced the epithet and call the anti-crotchfruit zealots the real crybabies.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Bowl Full of Flakes

Once again I have resolved to flush the bullshit from the toilet bowl of life. Take for example Exhibit A who had a birthday a few weekends ago. We were very close growing up. She has always sent me a card on my birthday which is an awesome and sweet gesture. I take full responsibility for flaking out in the past and never sending her a card. This year was different.

This year I sent her an adorable gold and diamond charm in the shape of a martini glass on a delicate chain. I bought two of them on clearance at Target after Christmas. Originally $69.99(oui, bebe) marked down to a paltry $16.84! I gave it to her freely, but I most certainly would call someone if they sent me a REAL diamond and gold trinket. Am I weird for thinking she would at least call me and say thanks? She hasn't.

Weirdo Numero Dos is someone I was very close to pre-bambino. A few weeks ago she called me a few days apart leaving the same exact message on my machine which leads me to believe she had to be drunk one of those times. The message is always the same in a exhausted, why bother living kind of tone,

"Hi. It's me. I really want to see you and True. I'm very busy, maybe we could get together this weekend, but I have some things I need to do so..."

Something like that. She says she wants to see us, but doesn't actually see us. She lives a half a mile from me. Today I called her and it was like pulling teeth, sitting on a cactus, listening to nails screech across the chalkboard. Pure suffocation. Tension was the fragrance.

It was one of those phonecalls that leaves YOU feeling like the asshole wishing you wouldn't have bothered. Blech.

The Flake of the Year Award has to go to someone who led a class I took recently. I went to the gallery this morning to see my work and I was blown away by her sheer lack of effort in organizing and displaying everyone's pieces. I thought there is NO WAY she would ever want her own shit displayed in such a manner. I seriously would rather have not included my work.

Sometimes one flush just isn't enough.


Friday, July 07, 2006


Petite lady loafing on her lounge.

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Thursday, July 06, 2006

Thistle Me


Thistle sounds like it should be something really dirty. Like some wild taboo sex act. OMG! He used to just thistle himself but it's gotten so out of hand. She caught him thistling with the neighbor! I saw him at 2:30 in the morning thistling a stocker in the parking lot of the 24 hour grocery store. In fact he was thistled so hard he could barely walk the next day...

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Sunday, July 02, 2006


Pure of heart. Is strong. Talks out of ass sometimes. Thinks things are positive. Shows the sunny side of the street while thinking about the gutter. Reduced to babbling pile of goo by one simple song. Looks at the moon and thinks about lost loves and bad timing. Is pure Moonstone. Scared. Ignores impending doom. Wonders about why things happen. Puts on happy face and believes in happy. For the moment. Small things bring great joy. Simplest, smallest things. A honey bee crawling on the floor. Fat and fuzzy and soft. That could never hurt. Stung. Bad. But cute. N't change it. Does not shut off. A mother. Failure to some. Wears around neck, sometimes. Thinks deeply about situation, freaksoutflipsout and then whoknows? Only the nose knows... Thinks about a fat cherubic completely cool soul. Is True. Is pure. My Heart.

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