Tag Archive: tomfoolery


showers and flowers and bears. oh my.

1. Congratulations.
2. Tomorrow you have been scheduled to wake promptly and forget the last Four to Five years of your Entire Life.
3. Yes. We’re talking roughly from March 31, 2010 to April 1, 2014. Oh and also you can choose anyone at random upon the earth to joyride inside the consciousness thereinslyof or whatsowhateverlybrothers. For a limited time only. Now their life is yours.
4. Go forth. Live inside their brain. Or just inside your own nice white clean space. Ahhhh. Refreshing. Go have an apple. You’ve earned it.
5. This offer expires at 11:20, Central Time. March 30th. Only a couple of people have taken us up on it and they would say it’s working out really well if they remembered anything in the least.

If you missed it, I’m sorry. Next year, we’re doing a thing where you can rewind back 3-7 years. Take your pick. You can get a jump on that if you get in line now.

not available in other time zones, sorry. samplers containing scented bath salts and back scrubbers are available instead but have been lost in the mail quite often.

-Department of Pranks and Tomfoolery.

1. It’s, like, soooooooooooooooooooooo late.
2. Yeah, I like, totally just typed that. It’s way time for bed.
3. I’m a 40 year old. For reals.
4. I’m not as funny as I used to be.
5. I think I’m getting the arthritis from computers. I always thought it would be tendonitis from piano practicing, which would be more heroic and Romantic. Alas, alack, no … it will be just another Internet Injury like the rest of Modern Society. How Banal.
6. This is very Lady of Cooking Onions. It’s time for bed. Like,
way past time.
7. This waste of everyone’s eyeball blinks has been brought to you by 3:24ish, central time. Amen.

Bed List For a Blog

1. I ate cake. Red velvet. I think I have a carbohydrate intolerance, but I did not finish it.
2. I’m changing when I take my pills again in hopes they’ll Work. My sleeping pill which I hardly ever take but need to tonight gives me skunky breath.
3. I think I’ll start feeling more alluring in general in the coming weeks. I’ve been antacid level sexy for months now. this will change and possibly soar up to breath mint sexy, or cream cheese sexy. Maybe fizzy drink sexy. There’s hope there.
4. No more candy crush or that game where the horses fall from the puffy clouds into meat grinders below.
5. More water tomorrow.
6. My new shoes are pleasing me and still feel new.
7. I want to be in a better place. I need more out of life than to float by like this.
8. That baby (my niece) is so cute that dryads are singing songs about her (not the same dryads that sabotaged our Internet at the previous house we lived in).
9. Redirection on my projects tomorrow.
10. This is my official reminder to practice. It’s all about motivation and being motivated helps I think.

1. I haven’t posted in a while, and I need to. You don’t become Invisible unless you stop wearing clothes…
…wait a second… THAT’S not what I meant!!!
2. let’s try that again. This is a family blog. Yeah. I’m serious.
3. I’m drinking TopoChico out of a tiny, tiny bottle and am going to my writers thing tonight. Tomorrow I am going to visit some friends and that’s exciting. If this update is boring your previously bouncy hair into a state of limp lifelessness, I’m very sorry. Perhaps you need more exciting shampoo. It’s not up to me to make your existence bounce like a 1980s Prell commercial with my Blog’s Funny Wit. You won’t find that kinda consistency here, kids.
4. Something happened over the weekend. It’s a serious thing. I may talk more about it if I can find the appropriate time or words to do so. I am sorry to be so cryptic. Things are also happening to me personally, and have been for quite a while. They go back for perhaps years. At some point, I will take stock, and then perhaps since I started out talking about myself in this Bloggar-ly way, I will return to that. I’d stopped doing it because I’d grown increasingly private. Maybe it’s time to become more like myself again. There’s nothing wrong with that. Damn I’m mysterious. If I could sew, I would certainly make myself a cape.
4. Mike is making some potato-pork chop thing. It smells good. I don’t feel hungry but much as the heart changes the mind of her mercurial sister, the brain; a nose changes the mind of its fickle brother, the stomach. Pronouns are not set in stone here, your milage may vary. I know better than to burst with pride at that metaphor, but I’m trying, people.
5. I painted my nails and toenails recently and they look fanTASTIC. They are blue sparkly and the toenails I did weird pink and blue and green with polka dots like fun ice-creamy colors and I look like it’s time to have a fun party. All I need is icing, a crossbow, and a reason.

Poetry will be posted later, and possibly some pictures. For now, I just thought I’d write.

Slippage-B-Gone

1. this morning I am wearing Charming Pyjammas (A word I refuse to argue with the Spelling Faeries over). I took a photo, for your perusal.
2. my brainstormy list of things to do is disorganized and frightening and it’s really no wonder I sit around drooling a lot.
3. New hair tomorrow! No idea what color I will be… :)
4. It is time for Autocorrect and me to have a STERN set of HARSH WORDS about It PREEMPTING everything I say-dammit. I clearly look Silly and Incomp-a-toad. And I donut like this. Not one tiny bait.
5. My friend that does my hair thinks my music is great but that I’m a Writer, really. It’s a good time for a hair appointment…
6. Billy and the Psychotics got reviewed at Song Fight by Jim of Seattle. If you don’t know what this means I shall just tell you that it was really cool and told me a lot, some of which I already knew. I got some ideas on how to solve The Problem (Me vs. Consistently Writing a Melody/Hook). Solving the problem is HARD. I did better this week (we’re active at songfight.org); also managing to pull off not sounding like the Mucinex Faerie.
7. My piano is tuned!!! YAY!!! I had something bloggy to say about Mr. Nick Litterski, whose name is Difficult to Spell; and I think it had something to do with his fixing of the sustain pedal and all the hilarious innuendo one can gather when you are using exciting and inventive techniques to make sure one does not suffer from continued pin slippage which affects the sustain pedal’s ability to perform. The proffered solution indeed rose to the occasion; my pedal is working smoothly thus far, and I am acting like a real tool right now in this blog. I think I even said “that’s what she said” before “I am totally blogging this!” Anyway, back in six months to check for the tightness of tuning pegs. I’m totally in the wrong field. Or maybe not, as I am both a lyricist, and a cad. :)

20121102-105345.jpg

Cleaning Update

1. My legs hurt. Clearly I am too, too old to clean. I need magic Cleaning Creatures. Somebody call Mr. Clean. Does he know them? That bald guy on the cleaning product bottles?
2. I’m not talking about the Brawny guy, they changed him. The Brawny guy used to be hot! Now he is all pudly looking (if you are the Brawny guy and one of My Adoring Public I am so SORRY! Perhaps you took a bad photograph! Or woke up on the wrong side of your blue ox..? It happens to the best of us…)

Anyway, THAT was a sad day for Den in the paper towel aisle!!!
3. I FOUND MONEY!!!!!!! While cleaning!

I’M USING THAT MONEY…

TO PURCHASE TACOS!!!

SOON.

I also found
a. my baby book
b. poetry (read elsewhere on interwebs in vain attempt not to offend as it is slightly sweary and yet profound and of Artistic Merit)
c. tiny Australian flags
d. wonderful pre-edit lyrics in Hard Copy
e. an elementary school recorder
f. Slipper socks
g. a book of Mad Libs…..

EMPTY!!!
(we’ll be having fun with this later, y’all) ;)

h. embarrassing photos of my old band, Anchorheads
i. tickets to Steamboat where Anchorheads played with people who have actual Music Careers now. Not that I don’t. Or won’t. Or can’t. Any way. I am SURE that these *ahem* GIGGING MUSICIANS are not currently in possession of
j. Aussie Flag Deely-Bobber Antannae with one Flag missing which I bought to surprise husband with for Australia day.
k. Mardi Gras beads which were acquired in a Responsible and Sober fashion. (I am not being Captain Sarcasmo here!!!)
l. Bunny Ears which are fuzzy
m. My SIGG bottle!
n. a weird ass chicken toy which I have already tweeted about
o. several Snooty Soaps
p. Two extremely special CDs
q. A pink guitar pick
r. an entire conga drum
s. a power puff girl sock
t. Pearl S. Buck’s ‘The Good Earth’
u. My Duality237 shirt with circle logo
v. a cow
w. an electric tea kettle
x. angry monster finger puppets which are green and blue, and one little lamb one that is eating grass and is crocheted or something.
y. A complicated boat toy I made from a Kinder Surprise.
z. A box full of WRITING UTENSILS!!!!

(which is ALSO pretty money!!)

Okay, ’nuff stalling :)

So. I was showing people the Godz Poodlz video. Which is very, VERY funny. And in which the Poodlz both look like serious, SERIOUS stud muffins. Or stud donuts. What the HELL is a stud donut? Anyway …

So Rhod Durre (the guy in the glasses we all wish we could get away with who resembles a fighter pilot) just became my 101st FAN ON FACEBOOK today.

This is a BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL because if you know me you know how it has been …

 

We will take a short break now to celebrate with a tiny celebratory poem :)

This is the beginning of a poem that I actually thought that I was going to try and PUBLISH. Go ahead. Laugh. It’s funny. There is no place to publish a poem that I was going to enter into a contest that was supposed to be kind of like a literary Song Fu and which I did not complete.
I was to write off three prompts. They were Flower, denouement, and something else I can’t remember but that made me think of murder. Or produce. Since everything naturally makes me think of murder, even something like pairs figure skating – I of course thought about murder at the farmer’s market. Because we can’t just go quietly and get our Kombucha Tea, now CAN WE????

I didn’t stop there. No … I wanted to put it in IAMBIC PENTAMETER

TROUBLE AT THE FARMERS MARKET
(a mysterious tragedy)

PAPPIO
I have uncovered tragic tragedy
Among these vegetarian delights
O! Such a shocker as has ne’er been seen

RANDOM MARKET GOER
at least not since last year’s Kombucha fights!

RUFFIO
What say you rabble rouser, what is this
Disturber of treasured organic peace
Although it’s true something is yet amiss
Your un-coolness of energy must cease

PAPPIO
The gentleman, correctly he did shout
And his past truths they cannot be denied
But although although cultured tea was thrown about
Not even one brave market-goer died!

PAPPIO
What say you sir? Is something
now awry?

 

RUFFIO
Assure you I, good sir, the trouble’s nigh!

It was gonna get really good, I promise you. I was gonna have knives, and a flower poisoning (à la White Oleander, and a thwarted romance, and … and …

But I have a rehearsal at 2 … and the best laid plans of conga players and donuts …

fu-fu

I am waiting, with more bait-breath, for some kind of sign about the song-fu thing.  I am impatient.  I have not really finished any kind of solid food today.  I am a freak.  I stayed up FAR too late last night and I should probably consume some blueberries or something.

I have to send in my notes for the musical, because for some bizarre reason they consider them invaluable. I am not sure why this is – since the vibe I was getting in rehearsals was what led me to drop out of the musical in the first place.  We left on good terms, unlike many of my projects – where we have not only burnt bridges, but blown them into dimensions where their fields of reality cease to exist and dangerous event horizon-type things are created and chain reaction horrible-nesses occur all over other galaxies in other people’s alien rock bands.  That didn’t happen with this one.  Things were regretful and polite.  The phrase, perhaps we can work together again, was tossed out by the person I thought I was troubling … and if I remember correctly – I think it was accompanied by looking forward to … I guess if I’m this surpried, this makes me sound like some kind of problem child.

I don’t know, perhaps I am a space cadet.  I do not regret my actions, since I need the time and I don’t have the learning-curve stuff together on the software … I was clear about this.  I don’t know why I’m second-guessing myself.  I talk to the husband about this over-and-over.  And I need to be careful with all future things.  I should be careful with other approaches, even wtih Song Fu, to a certain extent.  If I pour all my energy into songs about lactating weasels (not that I will do this!), this is not really celebrating the strange flower that is myself.

My husband’s homeboy who is my ex-boss is doing some movie about horses and he has mentioned that he wants me to collaborate on some string parts.  I don’t know if this will come to pass or how this will be structured.  I am going to play around with viola noises today, because he brought his guitar into the smoke shop and I listened to his sonic interpretation of horses running in e minor-ishness.  I think I can work with this.  It reminds me of my marine/bro and his playing the theme from ‘Brokeback Mountain.’  I think everyone has a ‘Brokeback Mountain’ story, probably like knowing where where you during this last inauguration or 9-11 or or any other pivotal moment.  Okay – maybe not so much.  Or I don’t know – I think so … it was a fairly large moment in cinema, anyway.

When saying “cinema-anyway” really fast over-and-over becomes recklessly entertaining, you know that you have abused your body … hopefully for the last time.  Perhaps I should shut up and eat my pineapple.

{EDIT-TORY NOTE}
this entry was transplanted from being an “about” page at the top of this blog to being an entry that I will refer to with Tags and things like that. It will become kind of part of a set of policy pages. This is kind of how I feel about things. So…yeah. This is me talking FROM THE FUTURE {4/13/2012}

A WORD ON “LANGUAGE” [there's cussing behind the links tho - to make a point ...]

It’s tough to write a blog, I have found.  This is because you are trying to be as authentic to yourself as possible.  You are also trying to please people – somewhat (at least, I am).  You are thinking of your more conservative friends … maybe some family (as in, “wow, should I really write about my opinions about the female orgasm in American sexual education” – not that there is such a thing … and not that there should be such an example).  See, we are already in trouble.  Is my post already compromised because I am trying to convey more of a “Fight Club” sort of edge – but I am only really “allowed” to call it “Poo Poo” and “Pee Pee?”

I am a Thirty-Four (six) *EIGHT!!!* ….

forty…

year old woman, by the way.

[LINKAGE DISCLAIMER: If you click on the links to these words, it's because YOU WANTED TO GO THERE :) ]

So what do you do when you can’t say the “F-word,” the “S-word …” and even … well, that … OTHER … ONE

Why have body functions become so taboo that they’re curse words anyway?

:)
(yes, the face is clickable)

I guess I’m also trying to “protect” the kiddos, who may follow a link to my blog while reading family mail.

Muses … You should probably take the link to the blog off of the email signature, but you are prideful … and refer to yourself in the third person …

Pasting everything behind a cut solves all these problems – and absolves one by placing responsibility squarely on the reader.  Because there’s a difference between giving offense and someone taking offense.  It’s just one of the many services “we” provide.  Except when we don’t.

2008/8/1 – #1.

WHAT DOES “inside-the-denise-brain” mean?

“inside-the-denise-brain” was my first email address. As in “inside-the-denise-brain@mail.utexas.edu.” I didn’t really understand what an email address was supposed to be … so I had to “make do” with what my imagination was telling me. I didn’t understand computers really, or the internet. I was in the music lab, struggling to learn Finale (the music writing software); because I was getting hand-cramp from stupid longhand dumb notation (urrrrrgghhh-growl). I thought I might like to talk to someone. The last thing I really remembered about programming was Mr. Bojangles – on TI Basic. On those computers that you used to stick cartridges into so that we could play ‘Hunt the Wumpus”

*HUNT THE WUMPUS
go wumpus hunting, man!

This is a great game we played in our most awesome childhood

So sue me …

2010/6/18 – #2.

uh …. “STRIPPER SONGS?”

Uh … you really don’t want to know.

Okay. FINE. These are songs that make every woman, regardless of whether she is a nun, a whore, a mother of six, a power broker, an athlete, a shoe saleseman, a neruosurgeon, a professor, a gas station attendant, a stenographer, a barrister (I’ve always just wanted to type that, I’m an american), a barista (did you know that men are also baristas, and not barristers- because “Barrister” is actually a scientific term for “A lawyer from overseas??”)…. etc … you get it …

These are the secret “oh yeah” songs of our souls. I could have said it in a classier way I s’pose. But why? Life is so very short. So regardless of whether you install your pole in public or private, in real life or in your mind, these are your “sexy little numbers.”

Unless you’re not into all that (yeah, right……)

I’m a monster. But I’m honest! :)

or hell, not-a-woman-at-all-but-a-MAN, a plan … a CANAL…..

I have an Armand Assante bathroom. I’ve been visiting it a lot this morning, because last night, the beer and cigar fairies came and danced in my forest (no, not in my gutter – so remove your mind from it … even though there is no “you,” because this is my second “blog” and I don’t actually believe anyone is reading this so I can actually go relatively unobserved). Let me tell you, it’s pretty liberating to have Mr. Assante looking down at you (from a large poster on the back of the door) while you do your business; as if to say “you really aren’t living right.” He’s doing it with a kindly attitude, as if he cares about your body, your life, your career. He’s got a cigar in his hand – so he knows how it is. He’s being very zen about the whole thing. He just wishes you’d get some exercise … or go to the doctor more often … but whaddayagonnadoaboutit?

I’m writing in here, but I feel like sometimes I’m only writing in here because I’m trying to keep up with the rest of “blog university.” My husband is looking at other people’s blogs and telling me how much more “me” I could be. I know that’s not what he’s doing, but we both agree that I would be more successful if I had more of a “web presence.”

I was working while shoving donuts in my face. I was actually getting a lot done (besides the fact that it’s rather dubious for a “rock star” – ha, ha – to be shoving donuts in her face) and putting in my stuff from the tiny recorder I have this neat thing that I work with where I put all my “input” … jams, thoughts, sometimes “voice-diaries” down. I might integrate it into the blog if I get brave … I don’t know. I know that on lj you can do voice posts … although I’ve never done one. I’m pretty shy about getting my voice out there.

here comes the cussing …

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