Halloweekend: the aftermath

Well, England is still sucking at Halloween. Apparently, my plan to write intermittent blog posts describing Halloween as the best holiday ever (!!!!!!!) has not been the overwhelming success I thought it would be. Although I guess the Halloween throwdown at our place worked out alright (if you consider spending most of Monday at the laundromat "alright"). After all, we have the alcohol people left behind and we still have the red "special effects" light bulb that makes our bathroom feel like a brothel or low-budget horror film!

So, here's to you Halloween, you sorely-neglected parade of awesomeness. None of these things really have anything to do with this splendid autumn holiday, but you know what, I ain't doin' fuckall tonight, so I don't care what you Halloween-celebrating jerkbombs get to do.


OK, here's a story about when bats get totally wasted!!!!

Also, here's a link to an amazing Idolator.com feature on YouTube tribute videos made by fans in honor of the cat/dog buddy flick Milo and Otis.



Also, here's a picture of a monkey and an organ grinder who looks kind of like Frank Sinatra and/or my cousin, Brad.



And finally, here's a picture of that hamster and snake who became friends.



Ahhh....BFF!!!!

Bats: good for what ails ye

Once, during a late afternoon session in the phone bank for a college radio fundraiser, some generous people kindly donated a huge, delicious platter of sushi. This was pretty late in the game; tension was high, tempers were quick, and I had run out of personality quizzes to take on the internet. Being the sort of unpredictable (some would say "unbalanced"), maverick coworker that I am, I decided that the best solution to our mid-fundraiser funk would be for me to see how much wasabi I could eat at one time. Now, this was a couple years ago, and I don't remember the exact size of the dollop I ingested, but I think it's safe to assume that it was somewhere around the size of a dime. Possibly a nickel.

The results were predictable. My sinuses flared up with a sensation comparable to the Yellowstone fires of 1988, the phones continued to not ring, and my coworkers were overwhelmed with a totally undue sense of admiration. Admittedly, this was a minor event in my long career of risktaking and daredevilry, yet it still holds a place in my memory. Why? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT MY FUCKING FACE HAS FELT LIKE FOR THE PAST 12 TERRIBLE UNRELENTING HOURS. (Plus insomnia and runny nose!)

Like the Pet Shop Boys (featuring Dusty Springfield!) in their 1987 smash "What Have I Done to Deserve This?", I find myself asking


What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?
What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?

Seeing as how I finally drifted off to sleep around 8am and woke up some time around a healthy 2:49pm, my mind's a little bit misty, a little bit uninteresting, a little bit incapable of stringing together an even minimally exciting post about Nick Cave's new album. So here's 5 Fun Facts About Bats.

5 Fun Facts About Bats
or a poorly-conceived attempt at one of those "17 Days till the Best Holiday EVER!!!!!" posts

5. Bats are part of the species chiroptera, a Greek word meaning "hand wing". This is the best animal name EVER.

4. Unsure of what to get that special someone for the holiday season? Many people (me) say that a bat adoption is one of the best gifts they have ever received! For more information, check out the beauties at Bat World, Bat Conservation International, the Cornwall Bat Hospital or one of the more species-inclusive sites like the World Animal Foundation.

3. There are about 1,000 species of cute little winged friends around the globe. This number means that bats make up a quarter of all mammal species!

2. Baby bats are strong contenders for the most adorable creatures ever.


Best friends 4eva!!!!


1. Bats love to party!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



"Kegstand time!!!!"

And as an added bonus, check this out. It's an origami website that shows you how to make bats!!! When I am an elderly woman living in my House of Cats, I will spend my days making these.

The Legend of Old Pennyeyes

So, last night, in my tireless search to find the very best in Victorian memorial photography, I stumbled across THE SCARIEST THING EVER. Real Talk: it was even scarier than the little girl with her eyes open. Yep, believe it! Now, I'm not entirely sure which of the latter three websites I had posted links for held this object of extreme horror, because every time I accidentally laid eyes on it I screamed "Oh--my--DEAR GOD!" and frantically clicked back to my homepage. But I bet you can find him with only a cursory scanning of each page.

You may have noticed that I referred to The Scariest Thing Ever as a "him." I think it's a him, but I'm not really sure. Maybe you will be better at ascertaining its gender. Just take a look for what appears to be an old man/flour sack hybrid with a dash of Nosferatu and a healthy dollop of "WTF?" Ok, sounds kinda funny, right? WRONG. Because beyond scary dude's super bizarre, eerily blank visage is the fact that he appears to have some sort of large, soulless coinage for eyes (see artist's rendering).

The thing about Old Pennyeyes is that he so totally seems like a folklore character whose story could've been passed down through generations of families on London's East End. (Where I live! Luuuuucky me!!!) I can envision little cockney urchins all tucked tight into their bed, saying their prayers as they drift off to sleep, the fire casting weird, tall shadows across the walls. Little Ollie has almost outgrown the threadbare blanket he sleeps under each night, and his toes are sticking out, cold and unprotected. Just as he is about to drift off to sleep, his mum peaks into the room and says, "Sleep tight me little Ollie. And be good, else Old Pennyeyes'll be in to harvest some tasty eye membranes!"

OMG!!!! Chilling stuff, right? So, just as I was finishing yesterday's fateful post, my friend called me and asked me to go to the bar. I was locking the door to my place when I noticed that, at the end of the hallway, the light was flickering dimly on and off. It gave me pause and I thought, "Oh man, what would I do if Old Pennyeyes came barreling out that door?" And that's when I realized, "Shit, dude, I'd be HELLA pissed. Fuck that guy, I don't need him being all scary and gross and misshapen in MY APARTMENT BUILDING."

So yeah, seriously, fuck that guy. I'm done looking up scary shit on the internet for this week. Here's a pumpkin martini recipe.

22 days till...ok I think it's pretty clear by now

October! The gothest of the months. The perfect time to curl up with a warm cup of tea, put on that Siouxsie and the Banshees record, and look at pictures of the dead in contrived but oddly touching poses. That's right, today's photo montage consists not of animals in funny outfits, but of Victorian memento mori photography!!!

Fact: Memento mori photographs and daguerreotypes were a common practice during the days of our scary Victorian ancestors, when child mortality rates were much higher.

Fact: They make a really great screensaver or desktop theme!

Fact: Most memento mori pictures portray the deceased as merely sleeping, and often were something of a last family portrait.

Fact: You can find many such photographs and more history on websites like this one , including a super, super creepy one of a girl with her eyes open! Don't look at it before bed, okay? Trust me on this one. Once seen, there is no amount of costumed lizards that can purge this from your mind.



Another good resource for information on things like mourning jewelry and photography is Art of Mourning which gets extra points for its beautiful typeface and nice weeping willows/ funereal decor. Another impressive info site belongs to this fine lady, Emmeline Grangerford.


Check it:







Ah yes, the classic Victorian memento mori tramp stamp. Much like its sister art, memorial photography, this practice began losing favor sometime in the early 1920s as tastes changed towards fun stuff like flappers and jazz and became less focused on scaring the shit out of young female bloggers just trying to kill time before they go out at night. God, it's gonna be a long walk to the tube.

Animals in costumes II aka 23 days till the best holday ever

Yes, it's come to this. I didn't actually feel like writing anything, but felt like I should anyway. I mean, I thought of some kinda "meh" bands that have a track or two I like, I thought of some kinda old news, and I considered attempting to learn how to do something apart from embedding videos and pictures onto this page. But I thought "no." That's not what I want to do tonight. What I really want to do is read this book about Florence, where I am going next weekend, or go to karaoke and get totally wasted. And so I am going to do one of those things. But not before I post this round up of Halloween's best dressed cats. Yes, it's both a total cop out, and a step closer towards throwing hygiene to the wind and sequestering myself away in a Victorian mansion with 500 feline friends.







This one kind of scares the hell out of me:


AND I am already regretting this post. REAL TALK!

L.A. wins at Halloween

In case you were wondering, there are only 26 days left between today and the wonder that is Halloween.

There is so much to do in this time. For example, you can google image pictures of dogs in funny costumes and post them to a message board. You can sit around freaking yourself out about that one corner of your apartment that's always suspiciously cold. OR YOU CAN START CRAFTING ADORABLE COSTUMES FOR YOUR BABY LIZARDS.

That's what one woman in Los Angeles did. Her handicraft is evident in the following picture, to which I will not post the link b/c it frankly isn't all that interesting. (It's about how lots of people dress up their pets. Yes. It's true.)


As you may remember from the previous post, there is another lizard genius currently operating in Hollywood. Now, I'm no great wizard for facts and figures, but I think this is what most Supreme Court judges would consider to be conclusive evidence that LA is the best city. Sorry, New York. Step up those lizard couture efforts and let's talk next year.