Jack the Magic Pumpkin

Maybe we have too much time on our hands...  Back in my day - nearly every jackolantern looked like this.

I say nearly because the ones I carved tended to look more like -

But suddenly, that's not good enough.  Jackolanterns have replaced Cadillacs and trophy wives in the search for status in modern suburbia.  Now these abused pumpkins must make a statement.  What's interesting is what statement they make.
Of course you have the traditional scary theme - though more skillfully rendered than my 'many holes of death' effort above.

Cannibalism is always a good choice.

Is this even a pumpkin?

Didn't I see this one on Scobby Doo?

Is the horror that he's trapped in a pumpkin - or that he's getting out?

Here's a Jack Jackolantern.  Red Rum.

Here's a whole tableau.  I wonder how many pumpkins they ruined cutting that hanging rope.

Some eschew (not sure what that word means, but I've always wanted to use it,) the horror theme and just concentrate on the art.

I suppose if you were a 10th century Britain this would be scary.

Oh No!  It's a Washington DC based sports franchise!

Sometimes the art goes overboard.

A plant mascaraing as a... different plant.

Do you have a job to go to?

Have you slept since August?

Have you even stopped to poop this month?

The cutesy theme has been involved in Halloween ever since we agreed to give toddlers candy - but maybe it's time to turn it down a notch.

No, really - it's the carousel from hell!  Look at the angry ponies!

I still don't know who this ubiquitous Hello Kitty is - but maybe it's time to put her in a shelter.

What do you bet some 7-year-old smashes this 15 hours of work with his light saber?

The rest of these came because FB friend SDN posted this theme this morning - Honest I was going to do jackolanterns anyway!   Is it nostalgia, or are the retired hippies looking for something to do?  How did this become a Halloween theme?

That's right - the micro-bus.

Guaranteed to break down.

Especially on the way to beach.

Or if you we silly enough to attach a trailer.

Now we come to the two scariest of them all.

I've got none to spare - put down that spoon!

The rabbit or Caerbannog.  Where's a holy hand grenade when you need one?

Here's a Halloween appropriate video from the people of College Humor

What Grammar Nazis Hath Wrought

H: “Hello, my name is Headley and I try to speak the English well…ly.”

G-Ns: “Improper use of a suffix, Headley.”

H: “This is why Grammar Nazis Anonymous was such a poor idea.”

G-Ns: “Bad idea, Headley.”

H: “As are most ideas of mine.”

Some people are surrounded by the flatulent, or party animals, or Country Music fans. I admit that these are bad things, but I think I might be willing to trade. I’ve always been surrounded by Grammar Nazis. I’m not one myself – I’m not in favor of National Socialism in any of its myriad forms, and the sub-category of speech police (see spelling Nazi, politically correct Nazi, the proper use of emoticons Nazi, and the texting abbreviation Nazi,) is especially galling and obnoxious.

Parenthetically (that’s what the parentheses are for) speaking, the NNIA (Nothing Not In Austen) Nazis, are entertaining to listen to. They speak nothing except lines from one of Jane Austen’s books. They’re particularly fun when they argue because they end up calling each other names like Mister Darcy – not because the person they are arguing with is named Mister Darcy, but because the line they use includes Mister Darcy’s name. As I said, they are fun to listen to… but don’t try saying anything unless you have your copy of Sense and Sensibility handy.

But to get to the point – I’ve lived my life surrounded by grammar Nazis which is why I began responding to the question, “How are you?” with the reply, “I’m evil.”

I was raised to respond, “I am doing well, thank you.” Speaking in such a manner greatly increases a nine-year-old’s chances to get beat up (excuse me – beaten up) on a regular basis.

The non-Nazi response to, “How are you?” or How ya doin’?” is, “Good,” or “I’m good.” While Grammar Nazis will not beaten (excuse me – beat) you for such an aural (oral?) indiscretion, they will artfully employ the English lexicon of castigational phraseology so fully that you’ll wish they just had simply beat (excuse me – beaten) you with a brick.

“You are not being good when you respond with improper grammar.”

“So I’m being evil? Works for me.”

Of course saying one is evil to the question, “How are you?” is no more proper grammatically than saying one is good. The difference is that Grammar Nazis believe you are satirizing the uncouth popular culture, and so they give you a pass.

But it doesn’t stop there. Tough guys think you’re answering truthfully and give you a wide berth, Fundamentalists don’t witness to you (except the Presbyterians who think you know something about the five points of Calvinism which is almost as entertaining to hear described as listening to NNIA Nazis argue,) political hacks think you’re making a societal statement, Vegans think you’re commenting on humankind, and stupid people laugh uncomfortably because they figure it must be a joke they don’t get.

I get a lot of uncomfortable laughs.

Saying, “I’m evil,” has worked so well for me that I’m starting to hear other people use it – even people I don’t know.

I figure that a hundred years from now, saying, “I’m evil,” will become so popular that there will be a special speech Nazi group formed to eradicate it and beaten (excuse me – beat) people with castigational phraseology who employ my little reply.

Then some clever person will try out the response, “I’m good.”

Hey!  A video that relates to the subject!  It had to happen eventually.

Stuff - Assorted

Police at Eagles-Giants game searching for stolen prosthetic leg

You gotta love Philly.

See what Walking Dead has done to our news?

Of course that might have something to do with our educational system.

Even educating yourself is getting complicated.

And apparently, there's much more to learn about certain subjects than I suspected.

Adjusting to new technology is always challenging.

Can't seem to leave the TP theme.

Okay.

You might want to skip this one.

Is this a feminist message?

Or is this?

I'm pretty sure this is.

Cold weather is coming - don't forget to exercise.

Here's a suggestion from our neighbors to the North.

And speaking of exercise - here's a routine I'd like to try.  I need two volunteers to help me out.

Astonishing Flatware

It’s all Tim Tunes fault. I can’t say the words, “plastic silverware,” anymore. I have a hard enough time writing it.

Prior to going to work for Jordan Marsh, Tim’s greatest accomplishments were in the fields of tormenting kittens, and alphabet belching. (Tim could belch the alphabet through M on one swig of store brand soda. Unfortunately FLAB – the Federated League of Alphabet Belchers only accepted entries from name-brand soda belching. We were both too cheap to find out if he could make the big time.)

Jordan Marsh (which being a New England-based upscale retailer should properly be pronounced without saying either “r,”) changed all that. Tim handed in an application to avoid losing unemployment benefits. Though he was in jeans and Velcro fastened sneakers, he wore a mostly clean tie and a collared (though untucked) shirt to the interview.

They put him in the fine china and silver department.

Tim’s supervisor, Mercedez de la Roi, Comptessa de Madrid, did her best to transform Tim Tune into a classy guy. I have to admit – she was a diminutive well-coiffed miracle worker. Within a week, Tim was swigging his no-name soda from a tea cup and belching the alphabet in French. He was also correcting my crudities.

“Hey Tim, did the delivery guy give us any silverware? All of mine has too much mold to tell the forks from the spoons.”

“Any what?”

“Any silverware.”

“Why would he give us silverware? A single fork would cost more than the whole order.”

At this point, Tim resumed his belching from P /pe/ pé  to Z /zɛd/ zède .

“I don’t mean silver, silverware. I mean plastic silverware.”

Tim, his pinky extended from his tea cup, tilted his head back so he could look down his nose at me. “There is no such thing as plastic silverware,” he said.

“Then I live in a mythological world,” I replied, “because last time I ate meat-flavored fried rice, I used such a non-existent object.”

“What you used,” Tim belched in a French accent, “was flatware.”

“Plastic forks aren’t flat.”

“Neither are they silver,” said Tim, primly using his shirt to wipe belch expectorant from his saucer.

Then I saw the bottle. Tim was drinking Pepsi – real Pepsi, not Value Shop brand Poopsi-Cola, but the genuine carmel-colored article. At that moment I realized that my good friend had left the fraternity of slob-hood and moved on to that strata of personages I had only been exposed to on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

“So did he give us any flatware?” I asked.

Tim handed me a slightly soiled white plastic fork while he unwrapped another that was sealed in a bag with Chinese characters on it.

I took the soiled fork and didn’t say a thing.

It’s hard to argue with class.

Warning!  This video might be too classy for some people.  

19 Almost Interesting Facts I Stole From Mental Floss

(I don’t know from whom they stole them.)

Mental Floss . Com

1)  The word “PEZ” comes from the German word for peppermint—PfeffErminZ.
This must be to keep German children from asking for candy at the grocery store before they’re old enough to earn the money to buy it.

2)  Researchers believe that herring communicate with one another in a way humans would find repulsive: passing gas.
Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water.

3) There was a third Apple founder. Ronald Wayne (pictured at home in 2010) sold his 10% stake for $800 in 1976.
He’s got to be a relative.

4)  Wilford Brimley was Howard Hughes's bodyguard.
He ate all the oatmeal and Hughes starved to death.

5)  Toy companies failed to duplicate the success of Theodore Roosevelt's teddy bear with William Taft's "Billy Possum."
Go Figure…

6)  People didn't always say "hello" when they answered the phone. When the first regular phone service was established in 1878, people said "ahoy."
Monty Burns still does.

7)  In response to The Lorax, the forest products industry published Truax to teach kids the importance of logging.
Dr. Seuss wasn't available or they could have killed thousands of trees producing it.

8)  Tsutomu Yamaguchi was in Hiroshima for work when the first A-bomb hit, made it home to Nagasaki for the second, and lived to be 93.
This was NOT a guy you wanted hanging around.

9)  Prairie dogs say hello with kisses.
If the mound is rockin’ don’t come knockin’

10) New Mexico State's first graduating class in 1893 had only one student—and he was shot and killed before graduation.
Princeton, fearing competition, was the prime suspect.

11)  The 50-star American flag was designed by an Ohio high school student for a class project. His teacher originally gave him a B–.
You’re a grand old flag, you’re a B minus flag…

12)  Sean Connery turned down the Gandalf role in Lord of the Rings. "I read the book. I read the script. I saw the movie. I still don't understand it."
What?  And he understood Highlander?

13)  E.B. White of Charlotte's Web fame is the "White" of Strunk and White, who wrote The Elements of Style.
And many of us who write have called EoS, Some Pig.

14)  12+1 = 11+2, and "twelve plus one" is an anagram of "eleven plus two."
I don’t know - A smart person told me this is interesting.

15)  Barry Manilow did not write his hit "I Write the Songs."
I knew it!!!!

16)  There's a basketball court above the Supreme Court. It's known as the Highest Court in the Land.
I bet they wear shorts and Converse under those robes.

17)  Redondo Beach, CA adopted the Goodyear Blimp as the city's official bird in 1983.
Spider Man was going to be the City insect till someone said, arachnid and all hell broke loose.

18)  In 2001, Beaver College changed its name to Arcadia in part because anti-porn filters blocked access to the school's website.
Yikes!

19)  William McKinley was on the $500 bill, Grover Cleveland was on the $1,000, and James Madison was on the $5,000.
As a service to counterfeiters everywhere.

To continue my theft - here's a vid a friend posted on FB.

What Kind of Survey Are You?

A fad? Yeah, I guess it’s a fad. Two or three times a day, I see posts from my friends – particularly Joe in California – What kind of car are you? What sixties song are you? What kind of storm are you? What Star Wars character are you?

I’m that little rolling trash can guy that talks so dirty they have to beep it all out – Really 2 Dirty 2 put in the sound track.

The point of these surveys is so the number-crunching geeks (that inhabit the sub-basements of Madison Avenue Advertising Agencies, and are fed on factory second boxes of Twix candy bars and blu-ray presentations of old Mad Men episodes,) can add more info to our growing on-line dossiers until some future Donald Draper uses the combined information to take over the world with nothing more than a bottle of Paul Newman’s salad dressing (Thousand Island) and a half-eaten bag of Combos.

Of course he doesn’t have to worry about me opposing him. According to the quiz to determine the color of my light saber, I belong to the order of yellow – we hide in corners and pretend that we’re deep undercover. What they don’t say is that our light sabers are yellow because we tend to urinate on everything when we get nervous.

For this reason (and because I don’t want to admit that if I were a car, I’d be a Chevy Vega,) I have begun a policy of selective deception. A question asks me about my personal habits, I no longer look for the most accurate – I look for the most exciting.

As a result, the character I’d be in Monty Python’s Holy Grail, is the Rabbit of Caerbannog (a much more satisfying result – and one that frightens my friends.) I had to fudge about cannibalism, but if I were a rabbit, eating knights wouldn’t be cannibalism, would it?

So yes, in case you’re wondering, I WOULD survive in a horror movie, the animal I was in a previous life was a T-REX, and if I had been at the Alamo, Davy Crockett would STILL BE ALIVE (but really old.)

That’s right – I’m bad - even if I had to lie through my teeth to make it that way. So you Madison Avenue types better fear me – and don’t you dare come near me when you take over the world…

Or I might pee on my light saber.

Being geeky is more active than it was when I was a kid.