I am on my way to Anomaly Con in Denver, though I don’t think we’ll make any of today’s panels. We meant to, but the younger boy was delayed at work group and… you know “things happen.” I also (sigh) was fighting KDP and didn’t have time to make an outfit (SIGH.)
However, we’ll be there tomorrow, most of the day, if anyone wishes to drop by and say hi. (I’m just sorry I didn’t have time to have Witchfinder out. Ah Well.)
I might or might not post tomorrow or Sunday. My Kindle Fire is supposed to allow me to, but it’s being sphynx-like about the HOW.
A Con on Easter Weekend? Must be run by Greeks.
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I know. But we agreed to go before we realized, so… And at any rate, this way the family gets some family time away.
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Enjoy yourself and take a break for the weekend. You deserve it.
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Go, have fun, don’t worry about us. We’ll survive the free ice cream machine being turned off for a few days. Enjoy some panels, catch up with your family and friends, and hopefully *knock on wood* get enough sleep and dodge the con crud!
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We could redecorate the blog. With plastic flamingos, perchance.
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I can contribute a plaster Santa, a San Francisco Bay bridge done in LEDs, and Rudy Vallee in black velvet …
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I know where we can get some Tiffany lamps.
Does anyone else think those settees call out for antimacassars?
Where does the painting of bulldogs playing poker go?
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I think there’s space for the bulldog painting in the library. Yes, there, where those engineering books used to be. Up a little on the right. Yeah. perfect. And if we put the aspidistra in the corner, there next to the elephant’s foot umbrella stand . . . Oh, yes, the settees are crying for antimacassars. Three men in the house and no antimacassars? I can’t believe it.
I see your flamingos and raise you a concrete bulldog and a hot-pink and lime-green life-size sheet metal flying pig.
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You know if you get enough of those large, glass jars full of pickled roots, flowers and suspiciously organic looking lumps on every level surface (and maybe a preserved alligator) it would start to look like one of those “cabinets of curiosities” that were so popular during the age of discovery. I always loved that look.
“Ooooh. Pickled deep one or canned Calamari broth?”
“Well, it says it was collected at Lake Chad, from the label. So…neither”
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Bah. Pickled Deep Ones go in the pantry, between the mi-go powder and the crawling horror chutney. At least that’s what it says in the Al Azif – Oh, wait. No, that’s not right. Who left the Necronomicon mixed in with the cookbooks? Cthulhu Vindaloo is NOT on the menu, folks, and for good reason. Somebody lock that book back in the Vault. Use the Elder Sign, as per SOP. I’m still conflicted about keeping the Everhot Forge in the kitchen. Does up a great flambe, after all . . .
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One of my portable insulated mugs is called the Mi-Go. Obviously not a lot of Googling on that name.
This particular model, unlike mine, actually looks Lovecraftian.
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How about something like this?
http://s25.photobucket.com/user/Jasini/media/Screenshot-363.jpg.html
http://s25.photobucket.com/user/Jasini/media/Screenshot-365.jpg.html
Sorry I didn’t get everything in. I’ve only decorated one wall.
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Are flying pigs the size of normal pigs, or are they bigger? I’ve never seen one, so life-sized doesn’t really give me an accurate description.
Oh is the bulldog trying to catch the pig?
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The ones we have in Cincinnati (they did an art show several years ago, where they scattered various hideously-decorated pig statues with wings) are about the size of a normal pig:
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Wayne – I raised pigs for 4H during high school. My brood sow, Emily, was about six feet long and weighed in at close to 500 pounds. Those pigs are PUNY!
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Well, that was just the most absurd photo that came up quickly. Some of them are much bigger, including the one I have to walk past in the lobby of the building I work in. It’s hideous. Gah.
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The flying pig is about so high by so wide. *holds hands, moves hands* You know, about knee high at the shoulder and about, oh, 24″ long, snout to tail. The wings make it about two feet wide. It’s to go in your yard and embarrass the neighbors. I plan to put it either next to the lawn Nessie or maybe with the shark-fin in the flowerbed.
The concrete bulldog is life-sized and just sits there. A fellow grad-school survivor sent it to me. He married an Auburn fan and the bulldog had to go.
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You know I had to look up antimacassar, in my neck of the woods we call them sheets.
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They`’re more lace doilies
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I didn’t know what they were, either, but my wife did.
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Antimassacars, like the Ylang-Ylang Resistance, are splinter groups devoted to the resistance of further encroachment of Macassar and oil interests. Although adopting from its political opposition an unctious style and having supposedly developed broad coverage, it has repeatedly shown itself as a passive participant in pursuit of its stated goals.
P. G. Wodehouse once famously stated in his book, _More Brinkleys in the Court_, “Well, are you going to lie there like an Antimacassar all day?”
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[In feigned British accent] Brilliant!
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And for those honesty curious they were early couch protectors used because of the nasty oils men who went courting put in their hair
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Right over the 60s art nouveau couch, of course…
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But the couch clashes with the moose head. Perhaps the couch could go by the shelf of spoons. You know the ones, they’re from places like Oz, Barsoom, The Fountain of Youth. Or maybe next to the cabinet with the commemorative plates of great events such as the destruction of the Death Star, the scouring of the Shire, and the establishment of the Second Foundation.
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No, I was putting the egg-shaped chairs over there.
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The white, 60’s egg-shaped chairs should go over by the glowing red lens. You know, the one we keep shouting, “Dave’s not here!” at.
(have fun, Sarah)
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Guys? The delivery truck just dropped off the granite RAH bust – where’d you park the forklift?
No, not the 5-ton lift, the BIG one. Last I saw it was when we moved the T-Rex, but it isn’t there now and it isn’t back in the motor pool. I checked over by the trans-dimensional portal, but the team there says they haven’t seen it since they plugged the vortex.
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Oh, I was going to move that stuff using the PowerLoader.
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Finally!someone with TASTE!
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It was being used to move the assault shuttle in the backyard, the starboard ventral thruster has been acting up again and I want to tear it down and see what the problem is before we move the shuttle under its own power back there. It is pretty tight, the shuttle barely fits between the fence and the back porch, and I would hate to have it pull to port and clip the porch roof.
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Older son says that elephant`s foot had best be given a decent & respectful burial or he`s going to crack heads together. You see, he thinks he is an elephant.
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Reassure him that the elephant is fine, has recovered from the laser welding accident (we told her, “be sure you use the safety harness” when wielding that laser, but apparently some elephants do occasionally forget) and claims to be quite happy with the prosthetic, especially her #7 leg.
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Thats what happens when you let elephants weld, even uplifted ones.
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You guys don’t have a Cavorite-coated transport sled? *sigh* Ok, I guess you can borrow mine. I’ll get it out of the van.
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Oh no!!! Wayne, we discovered the cavorite shielding interferes with
the DuQuesne “whatsittron” field activating the Isotope X reactor we have been using to power the entertainment system. Last time we got cavorite in close proximity to that it shot off a unit with such force that it disrupted the time frame and exploded Phaeton.
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Hmph. I would have thought a fifth-order screen would have prevented that.
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That’s what we thought, but it turns out cavorite includes a sixth-order component. That was what caused the Fourth-dimensional blowout that shattered Phaeton.
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one of the hotels at GTC last week actually had two of those chairs… many obligatory MiB references were made.
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But they block the secret passage there. The bookcase hits them when it swings out. Perhaps in the bay window overlooking the gladitorial arena…
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We could always paint the couch to match the moose he… never mind the T-Rex just decided the moose head would be a good snack.
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Oh – I know where there are two more moose heads. And I think know where I can get a set of elk antlers.
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The plaster Santa should go great in the pilot seat of the X-Wing fighter. Yeah, the full-scale model hanging from the ceiling in the Great Room. Be careful when you put him in there, I don’t think we’ve disconnected the starter or armaments controls.
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Well, we removed the proton torpedoes to go in the weapons display.
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So…I’m guessing there’s no room for these lava lamps, right?
Pity. Hard to find the kind with real lava in them…
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Has anyone seen the matching his-and-her suits of armor? They were just here a minute ago.
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I`m demotion my KindleFire but….I sees you, missy. I sees you!
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teehehehehehehehe
The flamingoes may come to life and start pecking, so be careful.
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at least you won’t have to go through a TSA check. please explain why they needed to ‘check’ my friggin ponytail today
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I was told it was because 1) the hair was so thick the magic box couldn’t see through it and 2) the hairpins looked suspicious. Note, this is just after a cat in a carrier went through and everyone was so busy “ooing” and “iddle kitty cute” that they weren’t looking at the bag scanner.
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i flew four trips… out to SJ, back to LA, out to SF, and back, and only once did my ponytail need checking. No hairpins and a ponytail elastic with no metal in it…
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Remember Mortal Kombat, where that guy kept a knife in the end of his braid? Maybe they figured you had one of those new ceramic knives.
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Say hi to everyone for us. I’m not up for a con this weekend, even a one day visit. Looking to try and make it next year.
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Since there are no comments on Instapundit, I’ll comment here on something Sarah posted to Instapundit.
So, you know that “Mothers better at reading bedtime stories” article Sarah linked to with skepticism? Turns out it’s a completely inaccurate headline. The article had nothing to do with reading stories at all. It was about reminiscing — telling stories about a past event in real life. Turns out mothers tended to go into more detail about emotions than fathers do when reminiscing about past events. How the headline writer got from there to “Mothers better at reading bedtime stories” is a complete mystery to anyone with a brain, i.e., non-journalists.
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We’ll,yes. My dad was STILL better
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Actually, it fits with everyday experience. (Not the “reading bedtime stories” angle.)
Women do tend to focus on emotion and socialization, men on events and what happened. Tend, though, like most anything else they’re tendencies.
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Have a good time–
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Right, I’ve got 15′ of det cord, a couple of PECU’s I liberated from the FISC, and an N-dimensional skeleton key. Where’s the liquor cabinet?
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No need to waste good liquor, if you want flammable liquids the refinishing supplies are in the shed out back.
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I’m not going to burn it, you Grumman-built Philistine. The gear is to gain access to where our absent hostess keeps the good stuff.
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Psst, I know where the good port is.
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aw. I tune out the internet for Easter weekend and I miss the start of all the fun. Ah well. I think I’ll just sit back here in the comfy chair with some popcorn, see what else y’all come up with…
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Alibis, mostly.
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I’m too old to need an alibi any longer.
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