Revolving Reflections: March 2005

My favorite birthday card this year. Inside reads "Please disregard Stephanie."

Such verve and intensity in one so young (courtesy of Jason).

Lovely and Sorta Funny Household Hints

Mayonnaise will kill lice; it will also condition your hair.

Burn your tongue? Put sugar on it.

Insect sting? Spray on WD-40 and rub it in.

Fungus on toe or fingernails - Vicks Vapor Rub.

Peanut butter will get scratches out of CDs. Wipe off with a paper coffee filter.

Preserving a newspaper clipping - large bottle of club soda and a cup of Milk of Magnesia, soak for 20 minutes, let dry. Will last for many years.

Removing labels from glassware - rub with WD-40 or peanut butter.

Baked-on food - fill container with water, put a Bounce fabric softener sheet in. Soak overnight.

Dirty grout - Listerine.

Grease stains - Coca Cola. It will also remove grease stains from the driveway overnight.

[Courtesy of Kristen]

Today is my Birthday

Today is my birthday. I was born in 1965. You do the math. I just heard on the radio that I share this birthday with Bela Bartok. Also, Paul Michael Glaser, the guy who played "Starsky" on "Starsky & Hutch", Gloria Steinem, Elton John, Aretha Franklin, Anita Bryant (eek!), Howard Cosell, Arturo Toscanini. There's one more celebrity, but I can't stand her so I won't mention her here. If anyone knows who it is, keep it to yourself. Have a wonderful day, everyone!

P.S. What an irony that Elton John and Anita Bryant share the same birthday.

Mumon's Poem

Hundreds of flowers in spring, the moon in autumn,
A cool breeze in summer, and snow in winter;
if there is no vain cloud in your mind
For you it is a good season.

(from the MUMONKAN, translated by Sumiko Kudo)

Captain Kirk with a huge stone dildo. Who can tell me what episode this is from?

Ominous Skull Face in Rain Pattern on my Balcony (or am I paranoid?)

Strolling Bowling Pin (with fish-netted companion) in Union Square

An Aged Frog

Two years ago I was browsing Civil-War era newspapers on-line, and found the following brilliant snippet from a newspaper from Indiana, PA:

"AN AGED FROG. The other day at Johnstown, as a mason was engaged in cutting stone, a living frog was found in the centre of a stone that had been in use in a wall for over 30 years. When discovered he was flat as a pancake, but after being released from his prison, could hop about as well as any other frog. The Cambria papers think that his frogship--could he speak--would tell us about the times when Noah lived. His only defect is that he is totally blind. He has been placed in a cage for safe-keeping."

I was absolutely delighted by this story, except for the last sentence. Yeah, the frog is finally freed from an impenetrable prison, thinking "Well, thank GOD!" and then is placed into a cage. I wonder if he's still alive. The story first caught my eye because this event happened in the town where I was born.

Panty-Lines

I was browsing blogs the other day and came upon this deliciously acidic harangue:

"If you see me walking along the corridors, do not stop to speak to me. I bite. Especially if you are a certain fat, ugly and untalented female sloth with a high-pitched voice and panty-lines showing through an overly-tight skirt."

I couldn't just let it go, and unfortunately I have misplaced the blogger's name so I cannot properly attribute her text to her. Maybe I should google some of the phrases and see if I can find her again.

Courtesy of Kristen, source of endless amazements, the horrifying and hard-to-imagine bludgeoning and death of a snowman. In the first image we see an upright and quasi-whimsical, albeit deadly serious, snowman. In the second image, the deceased snowman recoils in a gesture of stunned amazement at the sight of his own spattered blood spread at his very feet. Forensic scientists came running, but were unable to explain or even categorize this heartbreaking crime scene.

To See Sparks Throw Coin Hit 3rd Rail

Stuck On You: Now I Know Why

Just finished watching "Stuck on You" (Matt Damon, Greg Kinnear, Cher, etc.) and it took nearly ninety minutes for us to realize why this movie was recommended to us. We nearly herniated with laughter at the following interchange. Cher is being held hostage by a large black man, and Greg Kinnear is being held at gunpoint by the black man's partner, who demands:

Gun guy: "OK, Beasley, give us the DNA and we'll give you the girl."
Greg: "I don't know what you're talking about."
Black Guy: "Don't give us dat--the smegma from the dead hooker's perineum! Our boss wants it."
Greg: "OK, take it easy."
Gun guy: "Hand it over."
Greg: "All right, I got it right here."

I mean, what more could one ask for in movie dialogue? Smegma from a dead hooker's perineum. I finally found a title for my autobiography.

Sick-inducing, frighteningly deformed Leprechaun from the bowels of Satan. False prophet of hangovers. Falsely jocular burn victim. Haphazardly scotch-taped harbinger of manic cardboard glee. Saints preserve us.

Nice Knockers (courtesy of Jason)

Walnut as Symbol

Circa early winter 1984, and I'm a freshman in college, during the first week of Concert Choir tour somewhere in Florida. During a break in rehearsal at one of the churches, an intimidating senior -- whose name is lost in the vaults of my ever-drowsy brain -- walks up to me, grinning, and extends his clenched fist towards me. Obedient, dumb, I reach out and open my palm to receive the unshelled walnut he plops into it. He pronounces, to the general crowd, "I'd give my left nut to be like this guy." General merriment ensues. I find his pronouncement to be rather ambiguous, and I certainly have no idea in what sense he wanted to be 'like me', but I'm left with a general feeling of well-being and camaraderie, which I had certainly never felt in high school.

Proper spelling of HEINIE

Thanks to resourceful brother Brady, who just provided the proper spelling of HEINIE [slang: "The Buttocks"].

I can see your HEINEY

Overheard behind me in the hallway backstage at the Metropolitan Opera, yesterday, 5 March 2005:

I can see your HEINEY.
It’s so bright and SHINY.
If you do not HIDE IT.
I am gonna BITE IT.

I was afraid to turn around, for fear the person was addressing ME. I finally couldn't resist; it was one of those little dancing blue guys, looking nonchalantly forward as though he had chanted nothing. The weird thing is, my ass is very well hidden in a bright yellow Mrs. Roper-style caftan. Otherwise I wouldn't have been surprised to hear his poem.

By the way, how does one spell "Heiney"? Hiney? Heiny? I have a sneaking suspicion it's not in the OED...