Starting off a New Year

Whitenoise keeps pestering for nekkid snaps. Does this one of my New Year's toes in FloridaDad's TajMahTub count?


Found a ridiculous calendar that tickles me silly: "Veggies Gone Wild! Produce Behaving Badly". Here's January:

Been a Long Time

So blaggers know this. Blurkers may not care. But lapses happen. The busyness of life, a lack of inspiration, other life / heart / work happenings weighing more heavily on the mind. But for many, it's also a need to wank - uh, write - something more substantive than trivial. All of the above apply.

Days passed. And this emptiness filled my blag. I wanted to do the substantive post - it's simmering - but until I blag that, doing anything else was not enough. More days passed. I needed a plan.

From Hugh MacLeod's Gaping Void.

Instead, a peep's visit delivered a keester kick. In town to catch Cheek's band, said peep delivered a draft copy of his book. HIS BOOK. Here I am looking for focus and inspiration to lift me out of my heart's other heaviness, and DAY-UM! if another's product of focus and inspiration isn't the needed kick in the head. Keester. Whatever.

Starting somewhere is starting. Not only did the blagging wane, but so too did daily perusal of fave web haunts. Getting back in the saddle yields such amusement that sharing is compulsory. It's not the back burnered substance post, but blags in motion to tend to stay in motion (Kernan's bastardized Newton's law).

From Darby Conley's Get Fuzzy.

I've been missing ShakesPug, and it looks like Bucky has too. He's famous for purloining prose and poetry from all corners, but this take on The Rime of the Ancient Mariner is priceless and CatPoetry in its own right.

Catching up with Gaping Void yielded this:


While today's Toothpaste for Dinner yielded this:
Coincidence?

And then today's AWAD bonks on Cheek's pointy head. Color me stoopid not to know that ramada was a Spanish word. Dood! I've been saying it fer *years* in context with the motel, but never knew. Dough!

Setting back to rights after listing - sorry for the lapse. Reconnecting with familiars is making today a good day. Realists need not comment - as per today's Pearls Before Swine:

Fat American Keesters?

Reading Erin's blag this morning, solidarity is called for. She links to Brit Brian Appleyard's posts on American fatness.

I don't discount that this country has a problem with obesity. I'll even agree that many of us 'mericans are rather myopic, rich in denial, and culturally obtuse about other ways, means, and customs.

But stand back, Mr. Appleyard! I'm gonna have to kick what I assume can only be your FAT British arse for dissing peeps. PEEPS! You're gonna go there?!

"Six hundred million are eaten around Easter, two for every American. They look disgusting, though Peep brulee has possibilities. This does not surprise me. Americans do most things better than we do - notably writing, TV comedy and optimism - but good confectionery has so far eluded them. Is there, for example, a more disgusting comestible than a Hershey bar? I think not."

/Ahem. Rolling up of sleeves. Bile raised. Rant mode ON!

1. It's mostly our sugar-addled children that are consuming 99% of the peeps, quaffing sugar-rich soda as they cull the confectionous loot in their Easter baskets. Children worldwide are famous for consuming foods of questionable and no taste. Peeps taste remarkably similar to cotton candy - I should know, I'm eating one RIGHT NOW. A traditional yellow peep, gifted by a new friend in Florida. It's rude not to eat candy given to you. And kids eat them as gifts from the Easter Bunny. So, Sir Arse, you are dissing not only 'mericans, but the Easter Bunny too. That makes you mean. Mean people suck, per Happy Bunny. Happy Bunny is on my kick ball team and we're BOTH gonna kick your British fanny!

2. Have you ever eaten a peep, Sir Arse? Methinks not. So you can simply shut the h*ll up.

3. 'mericans do even mo' things mo' bettah, but those 3 are good 'uns. Spanks for the shout outs. In trade, y'all are better at spelling / punctuation / grammar (that's "ritin", one of the three R's we Yanks learn in skool - not to be confused with "writing", which we do indeed excel at), geography, and beer. Although the beers in particular I'm referencing are Guinness (Irish) and Strongbow Apple Cider (not a beer). I like y'all's humor, too, but it's a par thing, not a superlative. I offer this on topic xkcd web comic as an example:


4. 'mericans DON'T do good confectionery? At all? Speaking in absolutes is such a sh*t stirring activity, Sir Arse. While taste is in the tongue, mouth, and nose of the taster and I won't dither with you over Hershey bars in particular, you again suck. 'mericans have some yummilicous chocolates, even some made by the Hershey company. Special Dark with Almonds is a fave. Have you never heard of Ghiradelli? And my Canuck peeps should join me in shouting out about See's Candy, as it was founded by a Canadian who became an American. Cheek peeps, add yer favorite 'merican candy guilty pleasures via comments.

/rant mode OFF

There's more in me, but I'm all exhausted. My sugar high from eating the peep has waned, and my sugar coma is now waxing thick.

But, my 'merican bum isn't quite as fat as it used to be. I offer the Easter Keester photo below, taken Sunday with my Easter urchin peeps after many of them had eaten Easter peeps of many colors. Not an obese booty in sight. I join Erin in asking Sir Arse to display his keester for all the world to see. (Nice pic, Erin! Good gams, too!)