Happy Halloween! Stop carving your pumpkin and put on your costume already. What?!? You still don’t have your costume figured out? Lord. Here. Put on these boxes. You look fine. Now let’s get out there and get some candy before it’s all gone.
Photo of scary ghost and sexy cat by Anne Herndon circa 1972
I hate to repost a repost, but this lovely bit of Siamese poetry was just brought to my attention via Neatorama:
Indeed. The original photo is on a site called ECTOPLASMOSIS!, and apparently they have a feature called Moustache Monday. Do with this information what you will.
Dear Tyra,
As you may be aware, this cycle of America’s Next Top Model is terrible. Nevertheless, I am not only watching it but providing online synopses of the episodes for the education and/or amusement of the general public, and as a byproduct of this, I am providing you with free publicity for your terrible, terrible show. I am not expecting a fruit basket from you for my efforts, or even a case of Gallo wine (though I did receive a case of Gallo wine this week from someone else for merely doing my job).
However, I hope that the next time you see that ANTM is going to be pre-empted in one of the top nationwide television markets, pre-empted not by a half hour political commercial but by a three hour long basketball game between Los Angeles and Los Angeles that nobody could possibly care about, you choose another week to feature your contestants posing like Amsterdam storefront hookers and shaving one another’s vaginas in the communal bathtub? I can’t believe I missed this, and yes, I blame you.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth Herndon
Benny found the Lord God King of all lost pet notices on the LA River bike path last week, and we have been speculating about its meaning ever since. Album cover? Joke? Confused call for help? At one point the sign either disappeared or Benny was looking for it in the wrong place, but it reappeared this week, so Benny inspected it once more for additional clues. He found a website listed on the back of the laminated portion of the notice and called me immediately.
Once we were both home, we checked out the website and found the cat. Sort of. Apparently the whole thing is some sort of experiment. Benny’s dad used to do similar experiments for a very scientific group in Oklahoma, but his experiments were focused more on soda crackers than cats. Maybe we should get in contact with these people. I’m sure that we would do a great deal of service to mankind if we were to combine our cat and cracker efforts. Relevant experiment ideas are welcomed in the comments section.
Photo by lemonjenny on Flickr
When I was growing up in northern California, there was a very low key guy on TV who introduced me to various terrors on his Saturday night program Creature Features. His name was Bob Wilkins, and while he wasn’t as outwardly ghoulish as famous TV horror hosts Vampira or Zacherley, there was something about his big glasses and smooth combed hair that was very compelling. Because he made fun of a lot of the movies he showed, this added to the fright. How could he be amused rather than terrified by the horrible smile of Mr. Sardonicus? I mean, that was one horrible smile.
I was all set to write a cranky “back in my day, sonny” post about the dearth of horror hosts on modern TV programming, but when I did about five minutes of research, I realized I was wrong – DEAD WRONG, MWA HA HA HA…. ahem. The airwaves are crawling with awesome/lousy ghouls, undertakers, and Uncle Deaths. There is hope for the next generation yet. Now if they can only figure out what real rocking and rolling music sounds like….
The last theme home I focused on here at the Notions was, like today’s offering, fashioned to look like a boat, but that’s where the similarities end. This fresh white ferry is moored on Hyperion Avenue in the Silver Lake area, and there’s not a barnacle to be found on its hull:
I especially like the gangplank for safe passage over the lawn. Toot toot! It looks like a ferry in a kid’s book or a cartoon:
The curtains on the portholes were all closed, so I was not able to determine if a mouse in short pants was at the wheel. Seeing as it’s down the street from the original Disney Studios, it’s entirely possible.
At the 99 cent store not too long ago, I noticed a bunch of DVDs of old cartoons. I love cartoons and I love bargains, so I grabbed a few of them; even if they were terrible, they were only 99 cents each. I picked up Popeye, Superman, and Tom & Jerry. I was particularly excited about the Tom & Jerry because I had been looking on YouTube for my favorite Tom & Jerry cartoon where Tom and Jerry are fighting over a fancy New York penthouse, and Jerry winds up convincing Tom that he’s a ghost by dipping himself in flour, and so far I had been unsuccessful. It’s one of the Tom & Jerry cartoons made by Chuck Jones, and it’s really great. I don’t know why, but I had some vague hope that this cartoon might be on the DVD.
It wasn’t, but I was in for an even better surprise. The Tom & Jerry cartoons that were on the DVD did not feature a cat and mouse, but a human duo. These guys were from the Van Beuren Studios in the ’30s and they were… well, they were pretty fantastic. Rubbery and surreal, and in short, everything a cartoon should be. This is why I love the 99 cent store. It can always be counted on for melamine-laced candy and Wyler’s Lemonade, but once in a while it offers this kind of magic.
In honor of Halloween, here is their first cartoon Wot A Night. Please be aware there are some politically incorrect skeletons around six minutes into the cartoon. This was the ’30s and they just didn’t get some stuff like we do now. Of course, in the grand scheme of things it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever seen; it’s not a big black guy with shiny shoes carving a backwards B into a white girl’s face or anything:
(From Mark Peters’ article on “nonce” words in Good magazine. Anything I add to this would not be an improvement.)
podicate, 1853
This sounds like an advanced interstellar civilization’s trusty method of soul-scooping, guaranteed to leave zombified pod people with nary a scratch or stain, but it really means “To slide or move along on one’s buttocks.” I’ve seen a shih-tzu named Jed podicate along the pavement post-poop, in what I can only guess is a glimpse into our evolutionary past, to a time before cavepeople invented toilet paper and had to podicate their tushies clean.
We’re back viewing America’s Next Top Model at our house this week, as Ross has recuperated enough from his surgery to come over, and also his Project Runway parties have concluded. Gort and Benny and Ross and I are here. The first thing I notice is that my snacks are not as good as Ross’, but he has come to the rescue by bringing some sauteed brussels sprouts with bacon. You can always count on Ross.
EVEN THOUGH SHE PROBABLY DOESN’T KNOW IT, TODAY IS MY MOM’S FAVORITE HOLIDAY – INTERNATIONAL CAPS LOCK DAY. A WHILE AGO, MY MOM STARTED FORWARDING ME EMAILS FROM A FRIEND OF HERS WHO TYPED IN ALL CAPS AND ALSO PEPPERED HER SENTENCES WITH LIBERAL DOSES OF LOLS. THEN MY MOM STARTED TYPING IN ALL CAPS HERSELF.
I EXPLAINED TO HER THAT TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS THE EQUIVALENT OF YELLING IN AN EMAIL, AND THAT IT IS ALSO THE STYLE OF CHOICE FOR SPAMMERS AND CRAZY PEOPLE. SHE SAID THE REASON SHE WAS DOING IT WAS BECAUSE SHE AND ALL HER FRIENDS HAD BAD EYESIGHT AND SHE THOUGHT THAT ALL CAPS WOULD BE EASIER TO READ. THEN I EXPLAINED TO HER THAT COUNTLESS WRITING STYLE EXPERTS SAY THAT WRITING IN ALL CAPS IS NOT EASIER TO READ AND IT IN FACT SLOWS DOWN THE READING PROCESS. I HAVE ALSO FOUND THAT IT LEADS TO INCORRECT PUNCTUATION AND RAMBLING INCOHERENT SENTENCES.
MY MOM THANKED ME AND THEN SHE FORWARDED ME A BUNCH OF PHOTOS OF A BABY DEER.
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