Category: Goofing around

How to act like a human (for dogs)

One- stand up: Humans have two legs. Don’t walk around on all fours

Two- wear clothes: “Put some clothes on, no one wants to see that thing!” is what humans say to naked humans. REMEMBER: No shirt, no shoes, no service.

Three- buddy up: smaller dogs- stand on top of each other and wear a trench coat. Humans will mistake you for an adult human.

Four- NO FAKE MUSTACHES (unless you are a hairless breed): Seriously, you have hair on your face already. Fake mustaches will make you look silly.

Five- learn to talk: DO NOT say, “Hello, I am a dog.” That will give you away immediately. Some helpful phrases: “I would like a number four with bacon.” “Supersize it.” “more bacon, please”

TWO THINGS

Two creative exercises done while walking

ONE:

weird characters I came up with this week that I have no intention in using for anything but would like to keep record of.

1. A three year old girl who wants to be an old woman. she dresses up in a cotton shawl and a cane with an orthopedic grip. She stuffs her grandma’s old Dr. Scholl’s into some flat shoes and carries around a huge purse stuffed with moth balls, Kleenex, loose change and Werther’s Originals.

2. Okay so you know the movie Kickass? This is like that except for a nerdy girl who is way too into magical girl anime and manga. I don’t know how she deals with the transformation sequence. I do know that instead of trying to beat up crime bosses, she just shows up and lectures them on Love and Truth and Justice.

3. Someone is featured on My Strange Addiction for their addiction to watching My Strange Addiction

 

TWO

walking along, I hear one side of a phone conversation. It went something like “… This ain’t New York, this ain’t Vegas, this ain’t Rome, This ain’t Paris…” And I thought, what an inefficient list.  There is no end. To wit:

A further list of places This ain’t:

1 Ohio

2. Hollywood

3. Gary, Indiana

4. Buda

5. the bottom of the ocean

6. no disco

7. no country club either

8. the head of a pin

9 a closet to a magical realm

10 a plain old closet

11. the moon

12. the shoe what That Old Woman Who Someone Should’ve Called Social Services On lived in with all them kids

13. grandma’s house

14. a bathtub

15. the produce aisle at HEB

And so on. See what I mean? no end.

Self Portrait

self portrait, age 3

I’m really loving playing around with ink and washes, despite my previous adherence to technical pens only. My apologies to my friend Danielle, who has been trying to get me on the ink and brush bandwagon for years.

The book I’m reading is Milk and Cookies: a Frank Asch Bear Story, by Frank Asch. It wasn’t my favorite book, but I read it often. The house in the book reminded me of my Great Grandparent’s house, which I loved dearly. There was also a monster, which never hurt.

Some more fixed horoscopes

Free Will Astrology sometimes has great words to play with. A lot of the time thy also have words I do not find useful. Here is what I did the last month and a half with the words I liked, from the column in the Austin Chronicle.

from Free Will Astrology, week of Oct 31st

Aries: You live away. There was a time when you linked hours and tunnels.

Taurus: It’s urgent that you drive home to yourself as this unusual creature.

Virgo: Our ancestors eat brains. It’s beef. I’m confident that your own brain will be better. Partake in this exotic dish. Take advantage of your intelligence.

Sagittarius: A catharsis: profane language. The second remedy is contained in dance as melancholy.

Capricorn: You are a rake. Return others’ dreams.

From Free Will Astrology, week of November 14:

Aquarius: Offer irresponsible hedonism. Carry out your joy.

yeah, that’s all I got.

I fixed the horoscops

(From Rob Brezsney’s “Free Will Astrology: for Oct 17-23” Page 110 of the Austin Chronicle)

Scorpio: Late summer apple tree. A branch. Later, this gravity. Fast the space of him, his omens would be comparable.

Sagittarius: Most birds don’t sing. Somewhere that isn’t this mottled tune, this creature deserves you: human, detached, above your own rough-and-tumble.

Capricorn: Let’s discus the thing you are about without possessing it. Play here.

Aquarius: Remain persistently insoluble. You have made a heart of questions. They replace the lock.

Pisces:

Ares: New York city is home to lost treasure: valuable bits fallen off broken, tweezers and a butter knife, rich pickings, sidewalk cracks and gutters. “The street is mine,” he says.

Taurus:

Gemini: The word at the climax. The catalyst that makes no real sorcery. An incantation authentic to possibility.

Cancer: Modern tradition: “I think I am almost nothing.” He said that is who we want, the heart of our omens.

Leo: You can’t give. You can sort, but that’s nothing. What you want: feel your generosity missing.

Virgo: That one of you will be the rest. Play on the trap. Get tangled up on the cold and unhelpful with their pain.

Libra: Author this realization: things left seed. A caretaker of your other things, you are within yourself. Take anything.

I made some new friends.

No, seriously. I made them:

both

The little one is called Chicory and the bigger one doesn’t have a name. I just call her Grumpy Frog Girl.

chicory1

chicory2

I made Chicory last weekend. She has a wool felt body and dress, a ribbon belt and seashell wings. Both her eyes and hairpiece are made out of beads from broken jewelry.

gffg2

gffg1

I made the Grumpy Frog Girl forever and a day ago but decided she needed eyes when I made Chicory. She is made out of wool felt, broken jewelry and an acorn top.

I make a lot of things out of broken/ discarded items. Partly because I think it’s really fun to look at something that would normally be discarded and then figure out a way to make it into something either useful or amusing (usually both).  Mostly because everyone in my family knows that I like to work with discarded items and they give me a bunch of broken and weird crap all the time. Seriously, I have an old tackle box full of weird crap. (don’t worry dad, it’s too old and broken to use as an actual tackle box.)

List: certanties in life other than death and taxes *


1.  baby teeth
2.  thirst
3.  hunger
4.  loss
5.  calluses
6.  alienation
7.  breast milk
8.  belly button lint
9.  yearning
10. sand getting into crevices
11. bad movies
12. hair loss
13. indigestion
14. laughter
15. darkness
16. popcorn getting stuck in teeth
17. missing socks
18. pain
19. hope
20. misunderstandings

*based on current life. I don’t care about “in the future blah blah blah”