Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: The Fearful Meme
25 things about you
Memed thanks to Kate.
1. You just found out that Babe the Blue Ox should not have balls.
2. You’re beginning to think that “Change We Can Believe In” are the pennies Obama receives when he goes begging for Republican votes.
3. You miss Mars Bars.
Long time no meme?
From Tammy.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Paper, although the best gifts are 100% edible.
2. Artificial or Real tree? I keep thinking about A. Whitney Brown’s shtick about how he loved torturing trees. Now that was different humor. But really, Tam, you ask a nice Jewish boy artificial vs. real?
Real of course. I’m sure the artificial ones aren’t kosher.
3. When do you put up a tree? Every damn night, and it gets to be a bother sometimes.
4. When do you take it down? Whenever I get the chance.
5. Do you like eggnog? I used to. Do they make lactose-free eggnog?
6. Favorite gift received as a child? Typical: my favorite gift, and the memory is tainted. It was a collection of tiny little story books. (Remember that, Sis?) Why is the memory tainted? Because my mom gave me a few before Hanukkah arrived, one a day, and then my dad got wind of it, and then they had a big fight because he wanted it to be a surprise. And who felt guilty? Yours truly.
7. Hardest person to buy for? Karen. I keep wanting to give her a tree.
8. Easiest person to buy for? My mother. Big, baggy, touristy, pastel sweatshirt with sequins. Works every time.
9. Do you have a nativity scene? I understand I was quite a screamer. Does that count?
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? Femail.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? We did a “secret Santa” gift swap during residency. Always disappointing when I would drop $25 and get some regifted piece of crap in return.
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I’ll let you know when I start.
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? No
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Chestnuts. Latkes.
16. Lights on the tree? Wouldn’t that burn?
17. Favorite Christmas Song? Nine Inch Nails’ Closer.
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Stay home
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer? Whose reindeer?
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Enough double entendres. Okay, if I HAD to have a tree, I SUPPOSE I would put a star on it. Happy now?
21. Open presents on Christmas Eve or morning? Huh?
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Christmas music. Live-action creches. Feeling left out.
23. Favorite Ornament theme or color? Those formalin-pickled ears I saved from med school. (Kidding, kidding!)
24. Favorite dessert for Christmas dinner? I don’t think I’ve ever had a Christmas dinner. If I had, it would probably be pie. Pecan pie. Which gives me GERD from hell nowadays, so I have to be content with the memory of pecan pie.
25. What do you want for Christmas this year? Nice, warm gloves to wear on my morning commute.
26. Who is most likely to respond to this? Lyvvie
27. Who is least likely to respond to this? Oh, I don’t know. Dean.
D.
I should never have looked at my stat counter
Good thing I’m depressed. Otherwise, my seriously tanked stats would depress the hell out of me. As it is, my emotional reaction to a paltry 147 hits today is, “Oh. Look at that.”
Corn Dog and Erin O’Brien are doing it, so I thought I would, too. Here are the highlights from the last few hundred hits . . .
1. “pebbles and bam-bam tickling”
2. tight bikini lesbian
3. prairie muffin
4. keith olbermann gay?
5. lazy sex positions (HEY! Why are y’all looking at ME for that one?)
6. how to use tampons
7. horrible diseases (that one I can understand)
8. lorazepam holywater
9. headlice hotsauce
10. carrie underwood nude
11. penile botox injections (um . . . why? I think I’ll have to google that one myself)
12. hippocratic pelvic massage (upon my oath!)
and
13. this image (found by searching “dragon cleavage”):
See? I even snuck a Thirteen in on you.
D.
A late SBD: caring
Hey, Beth, here’s another late one for SBD.
This isn’t funny anymore. WHO recommended this Nora Roberts book to me, huh? Fess up. Because this story is pissing the shit clean out of me.
I don’t care, that’s the thing. I don’t care about Cam, who had this privileged life tootling around Europe racing boats and dirt bikes, nailing Eurotrash in his spare time, buying pricey silk thong underwear, and now he’s stuck back in the States honoring a promise to his dead adoptive father who’s like a ghost now, only he (Ghost Dad) never says anything worthwhile, only, “You can do it, I know you can, you’re a Quinn.”
Guess I remember some things. His name is Cam Quinn. Sounds like a junior varsity cheerleader. But the book’s title? So not memorable.
The Something Tides. Rippling Tides? Festering Tides? I don’t know. First in the Chesapeake Saga. It’s a SAGA, for the love of God. That has to be worse than a trilogy, hell, a SAGA must be six seven eight nine books, and I can’t even get fired up about book one.
So. Cam. Adoptive Dad dies, has a Hollywood death which I’ve already bitched about (and oh, I see this one’s called Sea Swept, so I wasn’t even close, unless Random Nautical Title is close), makes his three sons swear to take care of young punk-ass Seth, Dad’s latest acquisition. See, all three of them, Cam, Moe, and Curly, they were all runaways who gravitated to Ghost Dad Quinn the way ferrets gravitate towards empty boxes and closed doors. But Seth, maybe he’s a real Quinn, which would mean Ghost Dad cheated on Mom.
zzzzzzzzzzzz
And there’s this social worker, Seth’s caseworker, and she’s supposed be this fugly librarian-looking chick one moment, hell on wheels the next. Cam has the hots for her, she has the hots for Cam because he looks good doing carpentry shit. I can’t remember her name, either. It took almost two hundred pages for them to end up in the sack and I still don’t feel any REAL magnetism between them, nothing that wasn’t artificially contrived by the author. I DON’T CARE if they shag and I don’t care if they don’t. I don’t care when Manny, Moe, and Cam fight like kids in the car because
zzzzzzzzzzzzz
Getting back to Cam. Why don’t I care about him? Because his life in Europe was shallow, not in the emotional sense (well, that too) but in the characterization sense. Because his desire to get back to his old life is neither interesting nor sympathetic simply because that old life feels and looks like a cheap postcard. Because he has no emotional life. We’re told (insert show and tell lecture here) the only woman he loved was his adoptive mother. But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything from Cam, least of all his passion for Ms. Social Worker.
Life’s too short for this. I’m in the mood for romance, and I’d prefer to try out a new writer other than my old standby Jennifer Crusie, but this book is so not worth it. I think I’ll reread that one Crusie novel about the guy who decided to become a detective more or less on a dare. THAT one had feeling. Or Bet Me. That was a good one, too. Both of those books had heroes and heroines I cared about.
Because in romance, if I don’t care about either the hero or the heroine — then what’s the point?
D.
It comes with a soundtrack, too
Yes, Balls and Walnuts is excellent. Thank you, Blue Gal! I’d send it right back at ya, but that’s not how the rules work.
The rule is to pass it along to ten (only ten?) other excellent bloggers, and I’ve tried to choose those who have not been chosen already.
Some folks who have made me laugh recently:
sxKitten (okay, okay, so I’m a sucker for lolcats)
The Smart Bitches (not that they need an award, but they are funny as hell)
and
Cintra (I ruv oo 2)
I know many of you won’t meme along with me, but if you’re in a love-sharing mood, go for it.
D.
Corn Dog’s Book Meme
Here’s a quickie for you while I make dinner. Or, better yet, read about Corn Dog’s plague of mice. It’s a lot funnier than I make it sound.
Le Meme:
1. Grab the nearest book of 123 pages or more.
2. Open it to page 123.
3. Find the first 5 sentences and write them down.
4. Then invite 5 friends to do the same.
Nearest book? John Gardner’s translation of The Epic of Gilgamesh. My son’s reading it for schoolwork. Here we go:
Column vi
“Enkidu will protect the friend, safeguard the companion:
he will carry his body over pitfalls.
We in our assembly entrust the king to you;
you, in turn, bring him back to us.”Enkidu shaped his mouth and spoke,
saying to Gilgamesh:
“Friend, turn . . .
the road . . .
. . .”
And Gilgamesh said, “Hey. Enki. That doesn’t help much.”
Tagz: how about Darla, who deserves to be memed back, and who certainly has a jillion books nearby; Dean, who probably won’t mind an easy post; Jim Donahue, who probably doesn’t do memes (just guessing, Jim) but I’m curious to know what book he has within arm’s reach; Kate, because Corn Dog forgot to tag her; and Kris, just to see if she still reads me or has put me out of her head forever, sigh.
More later, I hope.
D.
Darla’s Nonfiction Meme
Darla tagged me. Here ya go, babe.
a) What issues/topic interests you most–non-fiction, i.e, cooking, knitting, stitching, there are infinite topics that has nothing to do with novels?
All over the map. Here are some of my recent non-fiction reads:
Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud: I started this last night and is it ever cool. I love the way McCloud deconstructs his art so clearly, so meticulously. I feel like I’m back in Anatomy Lab, watching a prosector do his thing. (Prosector — that’s what we called the folks who did nothing but teach us how to cut up cadavers and not make an unbloody mess of things.)
Crashing the Gate by Jerome Armstrong and Markos Moulitsas Zuniga: Edifying but dull dissection of everything that’s wrong with the Democratic old guard. Hillary’s crash-and-burn vindicates a lot of what the authors say in this book.
Angela’s Ashes by Frank McCourt: The more I think about this series of memoirs, the more they piss me off. Oh, woe is me, I’m an alcoholic shit but none of it’s my fault. You know what? Watch the Four Yorkshiremen skit, imagine they’re all Irish, and you’ll have much the same experience as you would have reading this book and its sequels.
Other nonfiction books I’ve read in the last 10 years include books about Buddhism, Spinoza, Maimonides, Burroughs (William S.), Robert Graves, Peter Cook, and undeciphered languages.
One great little book I really enjoyed: Foreign Devils on the Silk Road, a history of the race by several nations to explore and exploit Silk Road archaeological sites. Highly recommended.
b) Would you like to review books concerning those?
Um, no thanks.
c) Would you like to be paid or do it as interest or hobby? Tell reasons for what ever you choose.
I already review fiction for The Fix, and I’m damned lazy about that. You think I want more reviewing responsibilities?
d) Would you recommend those to your friends and how?
Would I recommend those what? Those books, perhaps? Clarify, please. But, yes, if you’re talking about BOOKS, sure, I’ll recommend a good book whether it’s fiction or nonfiction.
e) If you have already done something like this, link it to your post.
Mmmm sorry no.
f) Please don’t forget to link back here or whoever tags you.
And to get this meme moving, you have to tag 10 people. I tag:
Yeah, fat chance.
D.
Blogroll Amnesty Day
Doug’s Blog Round-up
You remember how this works: for B.A.D., we’re supposed to shine a spotlight on less-trafficked (i.e., not “A List”) blogs that deserve more attention. Here’s the spotlight, folks.
Total Dick-Head was the first curious place I found earlier this week. English teacher David Gill writes one of the most focused single-topic blogs I’ve ever read: every last post is about SF author Philip K. Dick. Recent posts include some notes on the crossover between Lost and PKD’s Valis, a review of A Scanner Darkly, and a student essay comparing Deckard (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?) and Meursault (Camus’s The Stranger). Gill’s review of Blade Runner: The Final Cut is great. Check it out for the Blade Runner lolcats link, if nothing else.
New B&W reader Raw Dawg Buffalo probably gets more traffic than me, but I thought I’d give him a shout-out anyway as one of the freshest new (new to me) voices I’ve heard in a long while. He’s not always political, but his two most recent posts cover Michelle Obama and calling-him-a-dickhead-insults-penises-everywhere Michael Savage. Check him out.
But I wouldn’t have found Qucifer if I hadn’t paid attention to RDB’s comment threads. I have a bad habit of checking cute women out based on their blogger thumbnail pix — hey, sometimes people DO post a bigger photo on their profile page. Consider it the 21st Century equivalent of gawking at passing strangers (and this shout-out is, I suppose, a 21st Century wolf whistle). Qucifer’s profile page led me to one of her blogs, “Sensual Sex From East Coast to Midwest” (linked on Q’s name, above), and oh boy, do I enjoy reading one woman lecture to other women on blow jobs. I learned a lot from her advice to guys, too. No, I’d never heard of the stupid-ass “pussy-patting” maneuver, but now I know not to bother. Q’s other blog is lots of fun, too. (Just not as much sex.)
I don’t know if Corn Dog gets more or less traffic than me, but who cares. She’s closed up her blog (temporarily, I hope) because her poor little dog Dinky has a tumor. I miss Corn Dog’s voice. Go give her some love.
Recent B&W commenter Tommy Korioth must have found me through Mauigirl, and good thing, too. Over at his blog, Basket of Puppies, he recently wrote a great essay on racism in Texas. Check it out. How can you resist a basket of puppies?
D.
Sharing the love
Blue Gal mobilizes her army:
Skippy and Jon Swift are spearheading Blogroll Amnesty Day this Sunday. If you want to participate, post some love for one to six of your favorite small blogs (defined as blogs with less traffic than your own) on Sunday, February 3.
The idea is to draw attention to some of the lesser known gems of the blogosphere. Rather than pick a few of my favorites, I think I’ll trawl your blogrolls for your little-known treasures. Hopefully, I’ll meet (and introduce my readers to) a few new (new to me!) voices.
The only rules: February 3, blogs with less traffic than your own, and put “Blogroll Amnesty Day” in your title.
Hmm. My office computer is futzing. Won’t let me link to Blue Gal, screws up every time I do anything with a pop-up window. I had better publish before I lose this altogether.
D.
The six bits meme
Link to the person that tagged you (done)
Post the rules on your blog (here you go)
Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself (coming right up)
Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs(yeah, Tam has the right idea crossing these out)
Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website
Six Non-Important Things
1. Even though it’s published on the Fox News website, I can believe the story about the 11-year-old British kid repeatedly diagnosed with hearing loss for the last nine years, who regained his hearing “miraculously” when the cotton ball fell out. Another casualty of the evil Q-tip! Or, really, a casualty of sloppy doctoring.
Some time ago, I met a young girl who had had unilateral, foul-smelling nasal drainage for the past seven years. Doctor after doctor treated her with antibiotics, easily dozens of courses, and no one bothered to look into her nose — or if anyone did, he didn’t have eyes to see.
It was a black-eyed pea. We removed it. Problem solved.
Oh, sorry — this was supposed to be a list of unimportant things.
2. I bite my fingernails. There. Happy now?
3. A moment ago, my son thought he had invented the word “bitchiness.” Karen and I had to break the news to him — no, it’s an old word. But I was quick to point out that one could come up with a nearly unlimited collection of appropriate neologisms limited only by our imaginations: Bitchocracy. Bitchitude. Bitchtacular.
Bitchumongous!
4. Shortly after Lyvvie‘s recent comment, I bought Forbidden Lego, a book with lots of nifty Lego projects you’ll never find in your local department store. (Most of ’em shoot stuff across the room.) Now I’m a man with a mission: to gather up and sort all of Jake’s Legos. All of Jake’s ten million Legos. Sure, that’s an exaggeration, but not by much.
You know what? I’m enjoying myself. When I’m too tired to do anything else, I scoop up a quart of Legos and sort away.
5. As much as I hate political hyperbole, I’m fine with all this hype about Obama being the next JFK. I don’t believe it. I doubt Obama believes it. But if the meme gathers momentum, and if Obama becomes our next President, he might feel he needs to live up to the American people’s expectations.
I like the idea of a President who’s thinking LEGACY from day one.
6. My slippers stink. I don’t understand this, since none of my shoes stink, my socks smell just dandy, you could eat off my feet.
I think the ferrets must be pooping in my slippers.
***
No tags, folks. If you’ve done this meme recently (and I know a lot of you have!) leave me a note in the comments.
D.