Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Alright Beagle may have issues with this one

But I thought it looked better over here than on my blog. Plus I think its funny so there

Monday, October 27, 2008

Dear Michael Patrick David...

You spamming, sanctimonious piece of human offal.

Is your personality so completely over-ridden by your slavish devotion to one outlook on spirituality that vomiting garbage onto other people's blogs is your idea of healthy communication?

Your listed industry on your blogger profile is "Loving Others".
Is calling a woman whom you have likely never met a "fat satanic lying pig" a loving term of endearment in whatever wacky pseudo-christian cult you spending your time?

Is this a habit of yours?

You obviously have some serious emotional problems.

Pam (Sobriety is Exhausting) blogs honestly about her life, both its successes and failures, sharing with her readership her own personal slice of humanity.

WTF have you done recently to improve the blogging community? Sorry, but psychotic rantings and vicious attacks on women do not count.

Thanks for visiting my blog but please keep your quasi-religious ramblings to yourself.

Because your comments were completely off-topic, not to mention childish and insulting to Pam in particular and people working through 12 step programs in general, I am deleting them, after I copy them into my file for the Ramblings of Religious Wackos.

If you have something to say about the actual post topic (come on, it's Tori, I bet you could muster up something), please feel free to do so.


Friday, October 24, 2008

My 1st bento attempt

So our friend Anna very sweetly gave our dd a bento box for her birthday after hearing me express an interest in delving into the Anime fetishist world of Bento. She not only sent a gorgeous little pink bento set garnished with ladybugs, but also a host of bento-crafting accessories.

I have just made my first bento lunch for our dd and every facet of the end product is due largely to the interest, guidance, and support from Anna and my dw.

Thanks ladies!

So the lunch, for those curious, consists of a steamed rice bear, pb&j sushi rolls, and fruit cuts (apple stars and nectarine flowers). I know it's not exactly a sterling example of creative bento goodness, but in my defense, it was a last minute attempt with what we had on hand.

the bear (with little soy sauce bottle)

the sushi rolls and fruit

the whole lunch (minus the drink)

packaged up and ready to go in its bag


Thursday, October 23, 2008

Sometimes I wonder if Beagle remembers if his blog exists....

But he has a wife that blathers so prolifically it really matters not. She also has access to many many friends that love the both of them and find it wildly entertaining that she wants them to guest blog on his blog rather than hers. How wonderful! Recently one of these lovely compadres was moving and came across a ticket. Such a benign little thing but it had memories. Ah, perfect stuff for a blog post, thank you Anna for the blast from the past....

July 2008, I'm standing in line to get one of 100 autographs of Hiro Mashima for my nine year old son. It seems my son has a love of many things, including the Manga series FairyTale, written and illustrated my Hiro Mashima. I am striving to be elected parent of the year, and have obtained a ticket , and am standing in line with people ten years my junior , most wearing costumes, myself terribly out of place.

While standing in line, the next autograph section over starts filling people with an amazing speed. In walks a beautiful woman with flame red hair, and a beautiful black dress with an upright collar. Who is it?? Why is everyone in that line my own age? The moment my mind realizes who she is, I'm transported.

August 1992.. Sixteen years ago.

Many of us had yet to leave home, did not have cars we had to pay for, or take care of, we didn't buy groceries, and heaven forbid, we did not have an email address.

(How many do you have now? I think I have five!)

What many of us did have, and still do, was a love for music.

Sure, our tastes have changed over the years. Occasionally that song that was passé years ago will play and we're mentally transported to another moment. The sights, smells are as real as the day the memory was made.

For me, one of those days is August 26th, 1992.

On that day, I saw my idol of the moment ; Tori Amos. Fresh into the world promoting her first album, Little Earthquakes. She had played once before in San Diego, in a tiny club called the Bacchanal; and now, she was playing at UCSD. In an auditorium! Not a giant concert venue, an auditorium. I had to be there. Without regret, I found a way to get tickets, and convinced the Beagle to attend with myself.

Memories are funny things. The whole evening isn't crystal clear, merely snippets.

Tori's birthday is the 22nd of August, we saw her four days later. People walked flowers up to the edge of the stage, and sat back down.

I don't remember it being a loud raucous event, calm patrons of the arts. Ironic considering our personal ages at the time, 23 and 19; as well as the artist. Calm is not a word that typically describes her.

Her piano had some issues as I recall. It was either replaced or repaired while we waited. Those details are sparse. I know that according to historical information on her she performed solo with a Yamaha CP-80 unless the venue was able to provide a piano for the entire Little Earthquake tour. What I remember is that she was delayed from starting on time.

At one point she sat on a stool facing the audience to tell her story, and sing, a cappella, Me and a Gun. Words will never describe the moments of an intimate setting, with a victim sharing their pain.

Overall she was an amazing sight to see. Flailing on the piano bench, looking for all the world as if she would fall off at any moment.

I remember thinking that she wore the strangest shoes… but now, I don't remember what they were.

And she told stories. Tons of stories. She would sit there and talk to this group of people, and tell them things… that even in the next four of her concerts I attended, could ever be rivaled.

The most vivid? The Rod Stewart story.

There is a species of hoofed animal, a deer, the black tailed deer, I believe she said. The Black Tailed deer has a color pattern on its ass. This, in her thinking, shows the deer where to aim when they wants to copulate.

To her, Rod Stewart, is this animal. He has these same markings as this animal.

(Or she needs these markings so he can find her. I realize now that this story makes no sense logically)

To see, and hear this woman, that I admired, talk about zeroing in on a rock stars ass, chat with the masses, and perform without seemingly breaking a sweat.. was amazing. Something that was seared into my memory.

I attended a panel at Comic Con 08 because she was attending. I wanted to be there beyond everything else. My staff made their own sacrifices for me, and I appreciate that.

Promoting a book of comics based on her songs, she did not have the bulk of the speaking time. It was a session where you never know who would speak next.

When she did speak, I was enthralled, just as much as I was sixteen years ago. I wasn't as close to the stage, or to her, I was far off to the side; and I am sure the crowd was larger, but I came full circle. And Beagle, you were the first person I thought of.

*My ticket stub is on a page from the new book; Comic Book Tattoo by Image Comics.

The piece is Leather, originally released on the Little Earthquakes album, illustrated by John Bivens.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Wordless Wednesday

Another guest post, today brought to you by Nathaniel our dear friend's son

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Guest posting, since idle blogs are the wifey's playthings....

Well since the Beagle has seen fit to once again not notice his blog again I have seen fit to invite some of our more prolific blogger friends to fill in for him. So in no particular order I would like to introduce the first visitor, our most profound. CL, the other transplant to Texas, who came from San Diego a few months before us. Without further ado....

“The mouth of a perfectly happy man is filled with beer.”

I don't mean to seem pedantic, but if there is one thing that I simply cannot live without it is a fine, misty-amber Pilsner. No self-respecting, sedulous seeker of fine hops-imbued potables could deny the effervescent glory with which the efficacious taste of amber cerveza is permeated.

“A fine beer may be judged with only one sip, but it's better to be thoroughly sure.”

Whereas dark beers only appear richer--a fallacy deserving of the utmost ridicule--the warmth and comfort of a well-produced, jaunty Pilsner sets most if not all so-called world-class ales on the short course for disappointment. God Save The Tastebuds! To he|| with ale!

With that superb bit of literary genius, I leave you with these fine, insoluble words of wisdom with which to adorn your slowly fermenting cranial contents:

“Drinking beer doesn't make you fat, It makes you lean....
Against bars, tables, chairs, and

Now mind you my fellow readers, The Beagle is Irish in heritage and loves many many a drink, beers in particular. He is also a beer connoisseur, but he has one type he just can not stand, care to take a guess which kind that is? ~The wifey~

Friday, October 17, 2008

Not particularly nice...

edited to add: This link is brought to you by Jen Robinson, and the letter "O".

But terribly, terribly funny!


Thursday, October 16, 2008

Lets talk Karma

And about those with a total lack thereof decent karma. I'm going to pull a few lines from an article in the local newspaper (S.E. Side homeowner kills intruder) that I found well, amusing. Alright, I have an odd sense of humor, it's true...

The man, believed to be in his 20s, was trying to get into a rear bedroom window of a house in the 1400 block of Greer and when the homeowner shot him, police said.
OK now here's the funny part:
The homeowner, a firearms instructor, was home alone and in the bedroom the burglar was attempting to enter.

OK, now, dude, some punk ass kid just broke into a bedroom window, in the middle of the night, of a firearms instructor. Who is going to what? Well Fuck his shit up I suppose. Dumb ass. I think that burglar must have had some seriously jacked up karma and then some higher being or God wanted his ass kicked way outta the gene pool. Whatcha think? Yah? Now think about it, if you're going to break into a house in the wee hours of the morning break into a room that does not have the occupants in it fuck head. Break into the living room or a bathroom but not on top of the sleeping residents for the love of Pete. Perfect examples of Generation Y did they even bother to give birth to these morons....

Friday, October 10, 2008

Tales from the Pen, part 3: lessons I've learned

1) Pepper spray, when deployed indoors, affects EVERYONE in the room. No exceptions.

2) Offenders are much more amenable to correcting their behavior when one is carrying a 3lb, 14inch tray-slot bar.

3) It is impossible for an offender to hang himself by knotting a sheet onto a door at shoulder height then draping said sheet around his neck.

4) Offenders get their feelings hurt when you call them drama queens and take their sheets away from them.

5) G2 offenders (low custody level) cry like cub scouts with skinned knees when you write them up for mouthing off in front of a trainee.

6) The phrase "No rec for you" is very gratifying.


Thursday, October 9, 2008

Idle Hands are my Wifey's playthings

She's apparently too much personality for a single blog.
Instead of creating a 2nd blog for herself, she's decided to use her formidable blogging abilities to augment my lackluster blog.

Enjoy it while you can folks as someday she'll actually be required to work at work.

Oh, and my wife is right...I do think you should listen to Margaret & Helen.


Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Beagle says

Listen to Margaret and Helen
No really he does, he just doesn't know it yet.

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Ah yes and still guest blogging thru the wife

Because she knows that he'd want to put this up...Neil Gaiman apparently, after over 2 decades of starts and stops, has finally finished his childrens book, The Graveyard Book. How very cool is that? He's an old fav of all of ours, we're going to have to go out and get this one I'm sure. Don't know if the kid will like it but really, we'd be just as happy to get it for ourselves right? Selfish parents yeah whatever, get over it, welcome to parental Gen X.

But if Bod leaves the graveyard, then he will come under attack from the man Jack—who has already killed Bod’s family. . . .