Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Blogwhoring
IIPM sends chill through bedrooms everywhere
When the Indian Institute for Planning and Management gets tired of planning and managing, they indulge in their other great mission: harrassing bloggers worldwide.
It ain’t easy being IIPM.
(A note to my regular readers: yes, this is partly a whoring operation, but it’s also great fun to see if I can string all the Technorati top items together into a coherent tale. Try it sometime.)
“IIPM,” she said.
Damn. Helluva way to start the day; my wife was speaking in tongues again. Ever since she visited that locked library at Miskatonic University, it’s been one thing after another. If she’s not channeling Paul Krugman, she’s foaming at the mouth like a yahoo podcast.
It isn’t even limited to her speech centers. This demon can change Karen’s appearance, too. Yesterday, I watched in horror as the words kenyee and serenity etched themselves on her stomach in fiery red Helvetica font. Today, I woke up to someone who looked like a cross between John Tierney and Karl Rove. Imagine my consternation when I went to nuzzle against her now unusually bristly cheek.
It ain’t right. It just ain’t right.
I consulted an exorcist, and he told me what I had to do: capture a flock of mallards and sacrifice them to the earthquake god. What a quack! So I looked up some information on my Web 2.0 platform and figured it all out. Damn. It was so obvious all along.
She needed her coffee.
My John Tierney–Karl Rove hybrid of a wife guzzled down her Kona, the excess flesh melted away, and my beloved was back once again.
D.
It’s a BIG ad
Here’s a video clip of an Australian beer ad.
It’s a big file, so consider yourselves warned. Also, you’ll be humming the tune all day.
D.
Your Joe Dirt fix for the weekend
I’m under the weather this weekend, thanks to dysentery*. No, I didn’t eat food sold out of the back-end of a trailer, but I am reappraising the infamous “three-second rule” as regards food that falls on my kitchen floor. Next time, if the cat wants the scraps that much, she can have ’em.
Long and short of it is, you’re getting the short of it. No tomes from yours truly, but if I can’t make you laugh, I’ll lead you to someone who can.
My brother Jake holds the park record. He once jumped over 7 trailers.
Jake crashes a lot and talks real slow now. The doctor told him to wear a helmet.
Check out Averell’s Home Page. Is it PC? Hell no. In fact, I’m sure that once I’m back in my usual state of health, I’ll regret ever posting this link.
D.
*Only a mild exaggeration.
Groucho snarks proto-muffin: myth or reality?
From snopes.com, the urban legend clearinghouse:
The most infamous remark of Groucho’s You Bet Your Life years supposedly occurred when he was interviewing a Mrs. Story, a contestant with twenty-two children (reputedly the largest family in America at the time):
GROUCHO: “Why do you have so many children? That’s a big responsibility and a big burden.”MRS. STORY: “Well, because I love my children and I think that’s our purpose here on Earth, and I love my husband.”GROUCHO: “I love my cigar, too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while.
True or false? Read the whole story here.
D.
The Technorati Grand Slam
I knew a Maureen Dowd in high school. Not the Maureen Dowd of New York Times fame, but a fairly sharp cookie nonetheless. While other girls’ only goal in life was to sing Bali Hai for the school musical, South Pacific, our Maureen Dowd had higher aspirations. She applied herself, got good grades, and went to college.
But enough about the Maureen Dowd I knew. What I really want to tell you about is the serenity I experience when I search for pictures of the Doodlebops. I don’t even know what Doodlebops are, although I gather they are possessed versions of the Teletubbies, which is good enough for me. Hell, it’s not like I write for TV Squad, after all. From a quick perusal of Technorati, I gather Doodlebops are the love children of Scooter Libby and Judith Miller. ‘Nuff said.
By the way, if your name is John Tierney, please get lost — along with Karl Rove, George Bush, and Dick Cheney.
I am such a Technorati whore.
D.
I wish I could say this was an American idea
But it’s not. The company is Australian.
Pleasure Puss reusable sanitary Pads
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Absorbant, Leakproof and Comfortable one piece design makes Pleasure Puss reusable sanitary pads easy to use and simple to care for.
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Caring for your pads
I’ll let you folks peruse those links at your leisure. When you’re bored of that, the Wikipedia entry on toilet paper was a hoot.
D.
Cool link and quick snark
If you haven’t done so already, hop on over to Stephanie Feagan’s blog, where she has a fun link to a Kinky Friedman political cartoon. Go Kinkster!
No more Muffinry, folks. I’ve had it up to here. It occurred to me, however, that some of you might still need your morning Muffin. If so, check out the Lydia of Purple website (get a load of that URL!), and while you’re there, don’t miss reading about Joshua’s overpriced birdhouses. Josh needs to make a living, too.
“Bless this Ozark Lad with a new pair of pants without holes in the knees.”
D.
Why I need to read Monica Jackson’s blog more often
Okay, I’m a day late with this one. Sue me.
Check out Monica’s Creative Ho Linkage. Cooch paintings, ‘pop star or porn star’, and more.
On ‘pop star or porn star’, I scored 90%. See if you can beat me.
D.
Your morning linkage
Check out Rae Alexander’s blog for a particularly creepy bird story. Yeesh. And I thought I had exaggerated their cruelty in my NiP. She also has some fine frog pix up, for you frog lovers.
More later.
D.
The O’Reilly pacifier . . .
Oh, how I wish I’d thought of this first.
Check out Jurassicpork’s blog today, LA Neoconfidential. George Bush as Sam Spade. ‘Nuff said. Don’t waste time here, click on the link.
D.
PS: While I’m at it:
Damn, Beth, I could hear that scream all the way over here half a freakin’ continent away. But your post reminded me of another great critter story. I’ll save it for another day, though; y’all are crittered out, I’m sure.