My Little Nazi

I woke up singing a song this morning. This is not an uncommon occurance. The tune of the song was familiar because just yesterday my daughter Kitty had ensured that it--the tune--would bore itself into my subconscience so deeply that it would become part of my being's fibers. She did this by insisting that we watch a ten minute "My Little Pony" video seventy-six-thousand-and-two times. Some of you are thinking how could you let a child watch a video that many times. To which I reply, Kitty's relentless. There is no quit in her, and I get annoyed so easily by whining. Besides, this video is only ten minutes long, surely there is no harm in watching a ten minute video (over and over and over and over again) is there?

You'll notice I said the tune was familiar, not the words. This is where things go a little south. The words repeating in my head to this tune (a repeating four-measure phrase in cut time), words that were just there as I woke up, are "...little Goebbels, little Himmler, we are Hitler Youth!"

What!?!

As I became conscious this morning, my head was swimming with WWII propaganda brought to me via My Little Pony! It's not funny, but as I became more and more awake this morning I began to realize what was repeating in my head. I couldn't help but imagine a cartoon called Hitler Youth! featuring baby and toddler versions of the Fuhrer's inner circle, Muppet Babies style.

Maybe one could be learning to speak and the others could say, "We have ways of making you talk."

Or maybe Little Adolph could sneak into Nannie's chocolate cake and get some on his upper lip, creating a faux hitler mustache.

Ok, I'm stopping now. This is not a funny subject.

One more. They could all be fighting over complimentary tickets to some traveling show. Little Adolph could win by yelling, "Mine Comps!"

Oh, boy. The end.

For your enjoyment

Hey, all (meaning the zero people who read this 'blog--if you are out there you are pretty good cyber hiders),

I've seen some cool things recently that I would like to post here for your enjoyment--and by your I of course mean my. The first is a wonderful song that has been making the rounds on the internet, so you may have already seen it. It is sung by a guy who went into his performance using the following checklist:

Hair...check!
Rod-iron trellis...check!
Brown, double-breasted suit...check!
Bouncey gait...check!
Cockeyed optimism...check!
Lyrics...um...

That's when the director said, "Action!"






This next item comes from the UK. It is one of the more artistic public service announcements I have ever seen and in my opinion it sends a beautiful and sobering message.






Enjoy!

True Story

I had this dream once where I attended an European football (i.e. soccer) match. This guy named Adam that I know in real life was there and he, for some reason, was wearing an angel robe. In the dream I didn't have any problem with him wearing an angel robe, it seemed completely normal to do so. The robe was more or less what you see a gospel choir wear. It was constructed out of a sheer, billowy, white fabric.

Unfortunately and hilariously, he chose the wrong night to wear the robe, because one of the players on one of the teams was a very popular bachelor (like Bekham before Victoria) and in the stands were scores of women wearing wedding dresses to show their undying love for this player. His angel robes made him look like he too was wearing a wedding dress, and that he too was devoted to that player on one of the teams.

As dreams often do, things shifted and next thing I knew I was driving a car from Africa to Montana and had left my Mom in Africa at the soccer match. I wasn't about to go back and get her, because I was pretty close to Montana and Montana is a long way away from Africa. I figured she could catch a bus.

I liked that dream.

The weirdest dream I have ever had happened back in high school. There was a cartoon camel with no hump(s) standing on two legs in front of a black background. The camel started to rotate slowly and as it did so, a string appeared. The string was pulled taught and began to move toward the rotating camel. The string, worked like a cheese cutter and cut off the camel's bum. The bum, an obviously fine roast-sized cut of meat, began to rotate. As the bum/roast rotated the word "Rubentooth" in Arabic lettering flashed. It was clear that "Rubentooth" was pronounced "Rubentruth."

Weird huh?

Does anyone out there have any dreams they'd like to share?

Odd and End

About a year and a half ago we had this big election where a new President of the United States (sometimes hilariously abbreviated as POTUS, I don't know why it's hilarious) was selected. Before that day there was much campaigning. The campaigning includes using the last names of POTUS candidates with the last names VPOTUS candidates in tandem.

Like so:

Obama
Biden

and

McCain
Palin

If you take a editing pencil to the winning set of names it doesn't take too many marks to make it read Osama Bin Laden, which I think is funny.

Not so fast Republicans, because a few marks also changes your losing candidates names to Cain Satan, which is also funny.




Next. Does any one else with small children hate Dora and Diego? Loud-mouthed, screaming, neglected children with backpacks and maps for friends are not entertaining, they are annoying and little bit sad. The fact that they hang out with dangerous wild animals is scary.

They probably need help. Yet Nickelodeon continues to point their cameras at them rather than get them the help they need. A bath, a bed to rest their state-fair-winning-pumkin-sized heads, some fashion advice (even I know that red short pants should not be worn with a florecent pink T-shirt, and that a florecent pink T shirt should not be worn), and hearing aids (they yell constantly, like old people trying to whisper).

It would also be nice if they would stop brainwashing my little ones into thinking that they like their shows.



Finally. I was reading the other day. I know, shocking. The words I read said they wanted me to kill a guy (I'm just kidding, it was the voices that said that--Just kidding again, it was my mom).

Anyway, stupid asides aside, what the words really said was, "When your odds and ends are depleted down to one is it called an odd and end?"

The answer to that question is "no," followed by "shut up," followed by "sorry it's not you," followed by "work is getting stressful and life is crazy for me right now," followed by "I love you," followed by *hug*.

My point is that the last one of your odds and ends is either an odd or an end. It doesn't matter that they are not called odds and/or ends.




That's all.

NBC = Not Being Cool

I have to get something off my chest. I understand if some of you disagree with some of the points I'm about to make. That's okay, we can still be friends.

It's already old news. I doubt that there are many who will disagree with my thesis statement: the National Broadcasting Company is stupid. I mean that in the nicest possible way. NBC is stupid, very stupid.

Not all that long ago NBC was the number one network. They did it with shows like The Cosby Show and The Cheers and then The Seinfeld and The Freinds. They dominated Thursday night for two decades. Thursday nights are lucrative advertising nights because they precede Friday. Advertisers, (particularly movie ads) use Thursday night to give their final push to get people out buying their stuff over the weekends.

NBC has recently fallen off in the ratings, but I have continued to be a fan of NBC products. I like their current Thursday night line up, Community, Parks and Rec., The Office, and 30 rock, all solid situation comedies. I like them (Community is my favorite of the four I've listed--it's funny because it's true--I teach at UVU). I like the Today Show, certain aspects of SNL, Brian Williams' newscast, the local affiliate's newscast, and a lot of other things about the network. So, I have felt bad as NBC has fallen to fourth place among the networks. However, I was forced to stop feeling bad about six months ago.

NBC had an idea to move Conan O'Brien (that might not be spelled right, I do not know how to spell his name) to the Tonight Show to replace the very large face of Jay Leno. I was surprised at the move, but pleased because I never really found Mr. Leno funny. He, to me, is a hack comic. Just not funny. To me. My opinion. How I feel about his comedy and his stupid, moon-shaped, recycled baseball-mitt face.

So, sometime last year the thinktank at NBC let O'Brien take over the Tonight Show. They built him a very expensive and beautiful studio to host the show in. They made him move from New York to Los Angeles. Also, in order to keep Leno's jowls from moving to another network, they gave Leno a nightly show that started at 9:00 Mountain Time. Leno's show was supposed to be kind of a variety show, but it turned out to be the Tonight Show an hour and a half earlier.

NBC was shocked to learn that nobody wants to watch 7 hours of late-night-style shows and the result of all of this movement was that NBC's audience was even smaller than usual. This affected many of the local affiliate news casts especially. Some of the affiliates threatened to air something else and this made NBC nervous. So NBC told everyone that Leno would be moving back to 10:35 just after the news to do a half-hour show and that Conan would be pushed back to 11:05 (local time). With this plan NBC essentially cut the traditional Tonight Show in half and offered it to both hosts.

Why am I telling you all of this? I don't know, you already knew all of this. You also know that O'Brien refused and left NBC and that Leno is due to be re-introduced as the flagship idiot of an idiot network.

So, let me point something out that you may not have noticed.

Many years ago there was a wise king named Solomon. Two women came to him each claiming that a baby belonged to them. The same baby, let's call him TonightShloamoe. Solomon offered to cut the baby in two. One mother with a very large face and inverted skunk-like hair said, "yeah sure, why not. Half a baby is better than no baby." The other mother tall, pale, and Frankensteiny said, "No, don't hurt little Tonightshloamoe. I would rather give him up than damage him." Solomon knew then that the true mother was the be-pompadoured redhead.

Solomon was known for his wisdom. NBC is now known for its stupidity.

Please join me in not watching Mr. Leno's chin-dominated face. Oh, and if any of you know Jeff Zucker (president of NBC), it is a bad idea to headbutt him in his highly polished empty dome head. Even if it would make a very satisfying echoey noise.

Have You Warshed the Venchtables?

Hello,

I have cute kids.

One of my favorite things about them is that they sometimes butcher words. My favorites include Mimi's pronunciation of the word also. If you could hear it you would become weak from the cuteness. I have no means of reproducing the audio on this blog. In fact, all I can do is type letters in certain specific orders to form symbol groups that we call words. Then you look at those symbol goups and interpret them into meanings, also called words.

So, in order for you to get as much of the cuteness as possible let me describe with symbol groups, I mean, words as best I can how it might sound. Mimi's speech is very juicy. Sometimes her S's sound like they are half s and half sh. So when an s comes mid-word you get that very slight slur--not a tongue thrust (which is another very cute speech thing) just juicy sibelants. Think of her as a five-year-old drunkard. All sloshed from a three-day bender. Got it? Ok, instead of also, she says osli (oh-slee). As in, "and we osli went to the chim ('chim' is Mimi for gym)." Bless her little booze-soaked heart.


Ike likes the prefix ig to start certain words. For example igleese means "at least" and ignoying means "annoying" and igloo means "igloo." He also drops L's in favor of Y's. You can hear it when he talks to Corky; often he'll say things like, "ah, sweet yiddle baby." It's not baby talk and it's not that he can't say L's (when he first spoke he used L's perfectly and still can) I think it's just that he's gotten lazy about it. After all, yiddle is a whole lot easier to form than "little." The only reason you don't think so is because you have had many years of practice. (Inappropriate joke alert!) If you ever have a stroke, you'll see what I mean (I appologize).

I like the world yiddle. It sounds like a goofing-off verb. As in, "our cat was yiddling around all day." I can also make it sound like a euphimism for urination. As in, "our cat yiddled." I'm not sure why it's the cat doing all of this yiddling.

Speaking of cats, Kitty our two-year-old says woorshwie for nursery. Good luck figuring that one out without some type of interpereter. If our baby was actually named Corky, she would probably call him Chorchie. She adds "ie" to everything she says, as if she is a sorority sister from the 1990s (e.g., foodie, jinkie (drink), pottie (potty), seatie, foonie (spoon), cuppie, et cetera-ie). Kitty is a funny little yiddler.

This may be my fault, because when I was a kid I thought that the words "this" and "morning" when spoken together were actually the smorning. I knew the word "this" and I knew the word "morning" and I knew that together they meant "this morning," but whenever I heard that phrase my brain aranged the noises comming in into the symbol groups of the and smorning, which in turn would cause me to say grammatically precarious phrases like, "what are we doing in the smorning?" That phrase only works if one were planning on doing something in (you know, evil wise) this morning.


That is all.

Corky

There is a new baby at our house. And, man, is he lazy and whiny. All he does all day is sit there, slug-like, doing nothing. He, we call him Corky (names have been changed) by the way, lays on his back squirming and grunting pretty much all day and all night. He refuses to move from point A to point B without someone carrying him. And, I am sorry to mention this in mixed company, he refuses to poop in appropriate places--in stead he poops where ever he likes. Peeps too.

Most of the time his eyes are closed as if to indicate that he does not care to look at you. You are hideous to him. You are not worth the effort it would take to unstick his eye-booger-glued-shut eyes.

Anytime he wants something, anything, he just starts yelling. He doesn't care if it's Wednesday at 1:00 in the afternoon or if it is 3:00 AM on a Monday morning. If he wants something he starts yelling for it and doesn't stop until he gets it. I won't even mention what he makes Buffy do.

Really, he is 8 and 3/4 lbs. of rude.

And, I can't help it, I love him.



PS  Corky doesn't work, so I've changed his changed name to Cubby.  --rm