Um...What??

Obviously The Guns In This Post Are Just For Show As We Do NOT Advocate Violence Around Here (Also, They Might Actually Just Be Bedazzling Guns And We CERTAINLY Don't Advocate THAT Kind of Crap)

2009-11-16T13:59:32-08:00

Welcome back, everyone! Today we will be getting informative as we take time out from our regularly scheduled blogging activities (popularly referred to as not blogging at all) to report some serious, breaking news. And by breaking news I mean this actually happened many, many days ago, but this delay is not exactly my fault as I employ a certain type of specialized writing technique that involves sitting around staring at my blog for an unspecified amount of time while my brain goes totally and spectacularly blank after which I give up and instead log onto the IM with Maureen to discuss important issues such as men who should never be allowed to wear their shirts.

Team Um...What??: Keeping you up to date! Ish.

Or eleven months later. Whichever.

ANYWAY. As some of you may already be aware, extended Um...What?? family member Mr. Farty recently had his home burglarized. Robbed. Broken into. He was invaded. Looted. Burgled for our British friends or, more specifically, OH F*CK for our British friends who are also Mr. Farty. Luckily, he wasn't home at the time of the burglary, and while this makes the whole experience safer, it doesn't make it any less COMPLETELY FULL OF SH*T BECAUSE SERIOUSLY WHO DO PEOPLE THINK THEY ARE? Oh. Right. Burglars.

After much legwork and hardcore investigative journalism on the subject, where hardcore investigative journalism equals I sent Mr. Farty a two-line e-mail asking what happened and he sent me back a two-line answer where he didn't really tell me what happened so much as he asked me to never, ever e-mail him again because he doesn't want anyone to actually know he associates with me (which seems kind of rude except for, you know, BIG DEAL –– like I haven't ignored this same type of e-mail from Chris at least 50 gagillion times already), I've uncovered the following details:

1) The burglar stole irreplaceable heirloom jewelry along with several "other things" which I can only assume are items typically found lying around the average Scottish household like knickknacks of the Loch Ness Monster or a set of Great Highland bagpipes –– because Mr. Farty KNOWS hot air droning on and on bagpiping –– or Academy-Award-winning actor, Sean Connery.

2) .................................................................................................................Huh.

Okay. So apparently I've only come up with one basically-devoid-of-detail detail, but honestly: What do I look like? CNN central? I'm always the last to know everything busy. I can tell you something else though, and that is NO ONE gets away with that kind of thing with us, you know, more than once and all of you burglars roaming around out there are now officially ON NOTICE. Because henceforth, all potential, future criminal activity perpetrated against The Family will be met with immediate and dire consequences:

Team Um...What??: Neutralizing The Threat Since Early 2008

Twinkly!
(And yes: CHRISTMAS HAS COME TO THE BLOG. Already. You can blame this on the fact it was Christmas every single place I looked around town this weekend and by this weekend I mean still almost two whole weeks before Thanksgiving and HO HO HOOOOLLLY GAHHH SOMEONE PLEASE SHOOT ME.)

But in the here and now, Mr. Farty, where it ISN'T Christmas or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or Ramadan or Boxing Day or WHATEVER because Um...What?? welcomes all beliefs, religions and random Canadians, you needn't worry. Because in case you've forgotten, we have PLENTY of heirloom jewelry of our own lying around the headquarters...:

(Click image to revisit this earlier, fancy-pants post. HAHA! GOOD ONE! As if anyone even cares about this current post.)

...which we are MORE than happy to share with you!:

FROM BURGLED TO BEDAZZLED! FROM HARD LUCK TO UP CHUCK BIG BUCKS!
Because we'll always have your back, Mr. Farty. It truly is our pleasure.

THE DAZZLING END.

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P.S. Good news!! Does everyone remember my Send A Cow post? (You: WE TRY SO HARD TO FORGET.) Well, my next post will be a follow-up to that one. A follow-up the Send A Cow people actually asked me to write. I KNOW: It's like they didn't even read the first one at all. Anyway, let's just say there will be SPLATTING involved. And a lot of it. It's going to be totally amazing and important. And by that I mean there are going to be more cows in it.

A Kitty, A Pittie And A Post That's Kinda Sh*tty (It Does Have Photoshopped Hats In It Though!) (Which Only Makes It Worse)

2009-11-01T23:45:45-08:00

Welcome back, everyone! It's been nothing but a big party around here today because –– thanks to a really cool coincidence, or dogs work in mysterious ways –– we've got birthdays for two very important Um...What?? family members falling on November 1st!:

Buster and Gus!!

Heh.

Of course we don't really know Buster's actual birthday on account of the way he just sort of magically appeared in my path one night with a kazoo and no I.D. But today is the one-year anniversary of the afternoon he first arrived at The Boy's house, so The Boy's mom decided this would be the perfect day to celebrate. (A year? Already? Time flies when you have porcupine quills in your eyes and can't really see the time!) And the only reason I know Gus's birthday is also today is because it's the date listed on the paperwork he brought with him from Kitten Rescue. Paperwork that also points out that thing about him being FOURTEEN today. Which is 72 in human years. WELL, OF COURSE IT IS. This completely explains why he spent almost all of today ricocheting off every surface in the apartment including both of the ceiling fans and also my head. And because he's pretty much always like this, I've questioned his age at least three times but the lovely people at KR continue to insist Gus's paperwork is correct. I'm still sort of skeptical though, mostly because I'm pretty sure that cats are very bad at filling out paperwork. Probably.

We don't have any cake (Do I look like I know how have time to make a cake??) but we do have an endless supply of cat hair and dog slobber.

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P.S. Of course I'm posting this with only about a half hour left in the day (Sunday), so by the time you read this, it'll already be after the fact. This is called respecting the status quo, or sometimes I get very, very busy doing other things. Like sitting.

Before I Was Like Charles Schulz But Now I'm Just Like Atreyu* Only Instead Of A Luck Dragon I'm Stuck Here With A Mostly-Dead Porcupine

2009-10-24T22:45:52-07:00

*Today's post is dedicated to Clay because, without even realizing, he totally helped me pull it together by reminding me yesterday morning about The Neverending Story, which –– if you're not familiar –– is the tale of a boy named Atreyu who's stuck in a world that's slowly disappearing because it's being systematically consumed by The Nothing and oh, hey! That sounds an awful lot like what's been happening to me during the last four years with The Porcupine! First I was a Mars Rover and now, apparently, I'm a kid who talks to rocks while trying to outrun a gigantic black hole! Oh, just forget it.

And speaking of The Porcupine, I offer you the same standard disclaimer this time around that I do for all self-involved, annoyingly non-specific posts on this subject: You should totally just skip it. Which, if you think about it, is probably the exact same disclaimer I should offer for ALL my posts, regardless of the subject matter, where subject matter equals HAHA! None of the subjects matter around here because this blog is totally like an Interwebs Black Hole Nothing: sucking in material from anywhere and everywhere yet remaining totally empty. I know. IT'S A GIFT.

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Welcome back, everyone! Today we'll be featuring the long-awaited second installment in our Ongoing Adventures in Porcupining series! (You: Okay, seriously? No one waits for anything around here. Mostly we just try to hide from you.) Oh whatever. ANYWAY. This series is basically a comic strip of sorts about life with The Porcupine where life equals most all of it has seeped out of him over the past few years and now it's like he's totally dead inside. Romantic!

I know it's been a while since I've posted much about him, but I've been very, very busy blogging about more important issues such as sending cows through the mail and trying to figure out what Stinking Buggers are (I still have no clue) and worrying about our country being run by people whose names look like the word "BONER." (I mean honestly: How am I supposed to take any Boner-generated legislation seriously?) Of course, I also haven't blogged much about him because doing so forces me to also do very unpleasant things like actually thinking about how a bad turn of events on top of another bad turn of events on top of yet more bad turns of events has changed The Porcupine into a retreated, isolated, former shell of himself and SEE?? Love is FUN!! Or not. Or something. OH, I DON'T KNOW.

And with that I present the following:

My Ongoing Adventures In Porcupining –– Installment #2*
(Or: The Um What?? Comic Strip –– In Two Installments Which, If You Do The Math, Equals Two Installments Too Many!)
*The first can be found here.

THE (apparently it will never) END.

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P.S.: So, in conclusion, sometimes this:

But most of the time, this:

Wow. I could've spared you guys all that "Adventures in Porcupining" crap and just posted these two pictures instead and basically given you about the same amount of useless useful information. I totally have this blogging thing NAILED!

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P.S.S. Did you all know that today is National Pit Bull Awareness Day? In honor of this, I offer the next two pictures. Because despite all the above evidence to the contrary, love really is a many, many splendored thing:

Buster and his Boy: A Neverending Love Story
They're also the best possible PR team this group of often misunderstood and wholly wonderful dogs could ever hope for.
And The Boy will never need his own luck dragon as long as he has Buster around.

All the P.S.'s To This Post Are Like Five Times Longer Than The Actual Post Itself Because That's How I Do It Around Here (Like Someone Who Has Absolutely No Idea What She's Doing)

2009-10-06T18:10:32-07:00

Today's "post" is basically just going to be a picture (I AM A BLOGGING GRAND MASTER WAX ON WAX OFF) that's completely in honor of my girl, Steph, who –– as I understand it –– might appreciate herself the occasional Chris beefcake shot, where beefcake equals...HAHA! Good one!! Like I can really type Chris and beefcake in the same sentence while keeping any kind of a straight face and oh hey! I guess sometimes this blog actually IS funny! And yeah, yeah, I know: I cannot believe it either.

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Hey, Um Whaters! Sometimes, blogging is very, very hard. But other times it can be very, very easy, where very, very easy equals OMG LOOKIT THIS CRAP I JUST FOUND ON THE INTERWEBS!!:

Okay. I might have added the caption myself.
(And don't even try to act like this joke wouldn't have occurred to you, too.)

Steph? It's totally been my pleasure.

THE END.

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P.S. By the way: If Steph's here reading this right now, it can only be because she must have somehow managed to take a short break from what she's usually doing online, which is totally killing everyone and everything in sight on Facebook.

Ice, ice, baby!

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P.S.S. I totally stole the picture of Chris, which may or may not have originally been posted on the website of our monthly magazine ("Buffoons Buff Bods of the BBQ") and so of course I realize I should give full credit to the original photographer (blah blah legal disclaimer yadda yadda law offices of Larry H. Parker) except for the fact I have absolutely no idea who the original photographer is, except for the other fact that it's probably safe to assume it's either Annie Liebovitz or Ansel Adams.

P.S.S.S. Extra points for you if you noticed that the guy in the picture with Chris is previously banned Um...What?? family member, MC! And speaking of MC, he just had a birthday last week where he turned 30 35 OH I DON'T KNOW and anyway, I certainly can't be expected to keep track of these things as I have four zero A TONNNN of friends. I do know he's really, really old though. And before he starts whining about how I'm even older, it's totally irrelevant and by totally irrelevant I mean I'M WAY HOTTER. Way.

P.S.S.S.S. Steph is trying to recruit me to join her Mafia Wars family on Facebook, but I'm still undecided at this point as I'm a very nice girl who usually isn't all that interested in killing anyone except maybe The Porcupi...OH NEVER MIND.

I Managed To Write This Despite The Fact I Have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder AND I DIED

2009-09-20T23:56:26-07:00

This post took way longer to publish than I originally expected because I got completely hung up on my friend Lori's illo. I just went to dinner and the movies with her and yet I still couldn't remember if she currently had bangs or didn't have bangs because that's the kind of totally attentive friend I am: the kind who pays absolutely zero attention! So then I asked Maureen if Lori currently had bangs or didn't have bangs and guess what? Maureen had no idea either AND MAUREEN WORKS WITH HER FIVE DAYS A WEEK. Very helpful. Maureen. So then I went back and forth and back and forth and finally decided on some half-bang thing that would sort of work either way because this small detail was very, very important on account of the way it had absolutely nothing whatsoever at all to do with this post.

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This is my lovely friend, Lori:

Because I have only the best-looking friends! And Chris.

I recently ruined Lori's life went to the movies with Lori to see District 9. And by recently I mean two weeks ago and wow! Compared to how things normally go around this blog, that IS recent. I have totally focused my blogging chi!*

*Yeah, yeah. So it's really been three weeks now. Sue me. (You: Okay!!) You could win this blog in the settlement! (You: Oooh. Forget it.) That's exactly what I thought.

Lori and I try to catch dinner and a movie together semi-regularly because we like movies and we like dinner and we like each other and oh, hey! Friends are like flowers in the garden of life. Or whatever. ANYWAY. I chose the movie this time around, and I had several reasons for deciding on District 9: like how it was being touted as forever changing the face of science fiction and how Chris highly recommended it, telling me it was "great!" (OMG why did I use this as a reason?? TACTICAL ERROR FORESHADOWING) and how it had a very important and relevant social message which I assumed at the time as anyone would have was probably something like "YAY! Aliens are awesome!!" Or whatever. Because really: Who doesn't love aliens? Right??

Wrong.

WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG-ITY WRONG WRONG.

Listen: Before I go on, I know: District 9 is an exceptional movie with seamless visual effects and an inspired documentary shooting style and top-notch acting and a hauntingly delivered commentary on the darker instincts of human nature and SO WHAT NONE OF THIS IS ENOUGH TO TRUMP THE HORRIFIC, HUMAN-INFLICTED ALIEN BABY MURDERS AND AWFUL ALIEN TORTURE AND ABUSE AND RAMPANT XENOPHOBIA AND PEELING FINGERNAILS OFF ROTTING FLESH AND HAHA, who am I kidding?! The part where the main human character starts peeling off his fingernails from his rotting fingers was awesome! As a matter of fact, I can't think of a single movie in history that couldn't be made better by adding a fingernail peeling scene. Or Dwayne Johnson.

District 9's plot, in a nutshell, is this (Warning –– Spoiler Alert!): A big spaceship full of aliens gets marooned over earth blah blah no one knows why just go with it, then humans make first contact in sort of a Welcome-Wagon-meets-Home-Invasion-Robbery kind of a way and determine said aliens are low-life, bottom-dwelling "prawns" that must be imprisoned into a horrible, slum-like internment camp despite the fact they're already sick and suffering and need kindness and mercy and then something, something human-dude-who-looks-like-Hitler-this and something, something alien-father-guy-who-is-ugly-but-beautiful-that and then a whole bunch of other stuff happens who cares and then TA DA! It turns out it's the human race that's filled with the most miserable and vile bottom-dwelling creatures who ever lived THE DESPAIR-FILLED, GOD-AWFUL, SUICIDE-INDUCING END. Popcorn, anyone?

So. If I was a professional movie reviewer –– which I'm not although I think we all agree I totally could be –– I would give this movie two thumbs down stuck up my butt because that's how uncomfortable I was JABBED VIOLENTLY AND REPEATEDLY INTO MY EYEBALLS UNTIL I'M RENDERED TOTALLY BLIND AND OH DEAR HOLY GAHHH WHAT I WOULD'VE GIVEN AT THE TIME TO BE RENDERED TOTALLY BLIND. Or dead.

OMG WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO WATCH THIS CRAP?! OH. OOPSIE!
(Heh. Butter Face. "Everything looks good but her fa...oh, never mind.)

I knew I was in serious trouble when a few minutes into the movie, a teeny-tiny, empathy-inducing alien boy appeared on the screen at the exact same moment my brain chose to register the fact that Chris loved this movie and all of Chris's favorite movies are the ones where everybody totally and completely dies. Gahhhh. I turned to Lori at this point and whispered something that began with some profanity followed closely by a very famous Han Solo/Luke Skywalker/Princess Leia/C-3PO quote. (Oh dear god why was I not at home watching my Star Wars DVD box set instead?? WELCOME TO MY BIG, FAT TACTICAL ERROR.) Now, what Lori said was that she also had a bad feeling about this. But the horrified look on her face told me what she really meant was "I rue the day I ever met you." Which seems pretty bad but was actually kind of awesome because do you even know how much longer it took her than most everyone else I know to arrive at this conclusion?!

OH, IF ONLY.

In the end it should be noted (and this would be a real spoiler alert except for the fact it's totally irrelevant just trust me since you should never, EVER see this movie) that none of the souls at the center of the story dies. This is good news when it comes to the father alien and his son who manage to escape the clutches of "humanity" –– both of whom you'll find yourself beyond emotionally invested in unless, of course, you have no heart and then oh, hey! This is the perfect movie for you and also? You're Chris. This news is disappointing, however, when it comes to the main human character, who –– I don't care how much redemption he finds in the last 37 seconds –– has done so many awful and sickening things leading up to that point (Hello One Man As Symbol For The History Of Humanity) that all I could think the entire time was DIE A$$HOLE. He did end up turning into an alien though (don't even ask) which, in my opinion, just adds further insult to injury because haven't the aliens suffered enough indignities already??

Anyway.

Speaking of suffering enough indignities, all I can say to my dear friend Lori –– who told me she was up until 4:00 in the morning after the movie because she couldn't turn off her brain FROM THE HORROR –– is I am so sorry. But it really wasn't my fault. Because if you think about it, besides being sort of the fault of all of the rest of humanity, it was mostly TOTALLY CHRIS'S FAULT. Which, if you think about it further, is pretty much the explanation for every other horrible thing that's ever happened around here. Like this post.

THE END.
And this explains the OTHER reason it took me so long to get this posted: I DIED.

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P.S.: THIS:

Just another example of why I spend so much time wondering why my blog doesn't have its own wing in The Louvre. BLOGGING AS FINE ART.

P.S.S. Also: For anyone who may have noticed that blog regular MC has been conspicuously absent as of late, don't worry: He's still around, he's just been temporarily banned from this blog due to a little thing I like to call punishment.

RUDE.

I'm not going to get into the details here (shunned me on Facebook) but suffice it to say (specifically shunned this blog on Facebook) I was extremely hurt (untagged himself in all blog-related illustrations posted on my Facebook page so other people wouldn't know of his involvement here) because I've never done one thing to warrant this kind of behavior (JERKTARD) except for accidentally being the kind of person people totally rue meeting. Something I cannot do anything about. Obviously. Which reminds me: I keep e-mailing the Facebook developers to suggest they change their motto to "FACEBOOK: No Good Can Ever Come Of It" but for whatever reason I can't get anyone answer me. No wonder they're only the second biggest site on the interwebs. No vision. ("Um...What??" is number one. I'm guessing.)

Anyway, no matter! Because my friend Chris, on the other hand, is totally proud of his involvement here.

Chris: Proof that there truly is no more hope for humanity.
IT'S JUST SAD.