Travis the swine

Sorry for the dearth of posting the last few days. I went into an abandoned mine early on Saturday, and the rest up until now has been kind of a painful blur.

The doctor says it’s just the flu.

My mother gave me some facial cleanser for mature skin

It’s my birthday tomorrow. Guess how old I am.

Clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees

Everybody’s crying today about Peter Pan. I myself have a lot of reservations about crying for him, but I suppose I need to keep a respectful silence today. It’s only appropriate. And truth be told, I very much admire the work he did in the ’70s:

The big trip

“Well, I think you could retire when you die. I don’t, however, believe in death, so I guess I will retire when I leave my body. But I plan to continue writing and performing in heaven.”

- Sky Sunlight Saxon March 2009

I hope there wasn’t too much of a line to get in to Heaven today, Sky. If there was, I’m sure you managed to write at least three songs while you were waiting.

Les Arachides #4: Snoopy’s crisis

Today we are going to focus on a French idiom. In France, they do not call stuffed toy bears “teddy bears.”

Interesting. It’s especially interesting that in this strip Snoopy is professing his horror of being a stuffed animal. I never knew such agony lay in the heart of my favorite childhood plush toy. Now I feel kind of terrible.

Sorry for the crap fading on the right side of the image. I’m getting used to a new scanner.

It’s springtime, Craig

Recent commenter MK noted that she found Fancy Notions while doing an online search for King George of Hollywood. Now, I recently swore off reporting about the flyer-posting antics of King George, but MK’s enthusiasm put me in a bit of a relapse frame of mind, especially since King George has added a new wrinkle to the story involving Judi Dench’s failed attempt to Face-Off™ King George himself.

I’ve got to stay strong. You won’t rope me in again, King George. I already spent too much time trying to fit Liza Minnelli, Jeff Foxworthy, and Christina Aguilera into your family tree. It’s impossible. You are insane. I’m going to do something better with my time. I’m going to go find my new friend Craig and have some fun.

It’s a nice blustery springtime day. Maybe we’ll have a picnic and fly kites at the park.

Rats.

Junior Birdman

Usually “found pet” signs are happier than “lost pet” notices. Why is it that I find this one so sad? Is it because I’m afraid Birdman Mark never got in touch with this person because the contact info was ripped off? Is it because I’m not sure who would rip up a sign like this? Or is it because I’m imagining somebody trying to nurse a baby sparrow back to health, but without the knowledge or skills to do so, and now the baby sparrow is slowly dying before his/her eyes?

Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe somebody is just bragging to Mark that he/she has a baby sparrow and he doesn’t. Maybe it doesn’t even say “baby sparrow.” Maybe it says “flabby sparrow.”

Going to the deluxe apartment in the sky

Goddamn it. 2009 has struck again. I just got confirmation that the world’s sexiest sexagenarian, Erick Purkhiser a/k/a Lux Interior of the Cramps, has left the building. Per Girlie Action, the Cramps’ PR firm:

February 4, 2009

Lux Interior, lead singer of The Cramps, passed away this morning due to an existing heart condition at Glendale Memorial Hospital in Glendale, California at 4:30 AM PST today. Lux has been an inspiration and influence to millions of artists and fans around the world. He and wife Poison Ivy’s contributions with The Cramps have had an immeasurable impact on modern music.

The Cramps emerged from the original New York punk scene of CBGB and Max’s Kansas City, with a singular sound and iconography. Their distinct take on rockabilly and surf along with their midnight movie imagery reminded us all just how exciting, dangerous, vital and sexy rock and roll should be and has spawned entire subcultures. Lux was a fearless frontman who transformed every stage he stepped on into a place of passion, abandon, and true freedom. He is a rare icon who will be missed dearly.

The family requests that you respect their privacy during this difficult time.

Here’s a good quote from Mr. Interior:

“Rock’n'roll is so great that everyone in the world should think it’s the greatest thing that’s happening. If they don’t, they’re turds.”

He said in an interview some years ago that he wished that people would dress up every day like they dressed for Halloween, telling the world, “This is me now.” There’s something really nice about that.

I hope heaven has an awesome stiletto boot collection for you to choose from, Lux. Kick some ass.

Can we get an instant replay?

Rats. I should have looked on the website neatorama yesterday while preparing for the Superbowl. Contributor Miss Cellania posted not one but two food tips for the big game, and while we had a good time with plenty of beer and birthday cake and Rotel dip and parsley for the rabbit, I wish I could have added to the festivities with a football stadium made out of snack food (originally found on holytaco.com):

I seem to recall doing a similar thing for Thanksgiving one year, but in the form of a bunch of pilgrims and indians rather than a stadium, but maybe this was just a fever dream from long ago. I’m also opposed to the use of Twinkies here, as this is a savory stadium and additionally I find Twinkies to be pretty foul, but all in all this is a good presentation.

The other direction I could have gone was making snacks a la molecular gastronomy. Pizza pebbles, beer ice cream, bleu cheese whiz, and foods infused with hickory smoke with the help of a bong. This is some science I can get behind.

So next year, I’m going to have to remember to do my snacking homework ahead of time so I’m better prepared.  Either that or go with my original idea of doing a Puppy Bowl sort of thing but with bunnies and an all-clover field. No ball; whoever eats the opponent’s side of the field first wins. Maybe I’ll still be hungry, but the rabbits will be satisfied.

Ghost busting

I haven’t seen the Fern Dell ghost since just before Christmas. My attempted pants-giving exercise before Christmas seems to have frightened or disturbed him to the extent that he no longer walks and rides his bike along the stretch of Los Feliz Blvd. that I saw him every morning on my way to work. Did I kill him? Does a ghost disappear when you try to make contact with it? Or is he perhaps just doing his daily exercises in a different area where weirdos aren’t as likely to try to give him pants?

I may never know the truth.  One thing I do know, however, is that he’s gone. I need a new mystery to occupy my mind. Perhaps I’ll start researching the life of designer Ben Day. Ben Day was a graphic designer around the first part of the 20th century who invented a color shading process for printing so nifty that the process bears his name. In fact, according to infoplease.com, his name can be used as a noun, verb, or adjective. Not many people can say that about their names.

Beyond this, I’m not sure what makes Ben Day so great, but four designers at VSA Partners apparently thought he was so awesome that they got together with Potlatch and made a parody day planner in his honor. Why do I care about this day planner and the man who inspired it? Well:

1. I’ve loved the word “potlatch” since I was a kid, when we had lots of Potlatch Corp. cardboard boxes in the garage. Say it – potlatch. Anything associated with Potlatch or potlatch is fine by me.
2. The parody day planner has a parody of of the periodic table of the elements involving condiments. It’s completely inaccurate, but still a marvel to look at.
3. If I keep investigating the Fern Dell ghost, I’ll probably be arrested for stalking.