Archive for the ‘Inane Prattle’ Category

I’ve done ONE whopping post this month which is pretty dang sad-ass, I know. I blame work and lots of summer activities – both of which have consumed a crapload of my time (note: a “crapload” is actually a LOT for those of you who do not use it as a regular unit of measure like I do…)

So I’ve got one blog post rolling now – – in the middle of it and didn’t want to rush through it since there is a lot of comedic marrow to be sucked out of that particular Happening of All Happenings. Therefore – – hang on to your girdles, folks – – well – -those of you who are still paying attention that is. I’ll be parking more inane prattle here at the ol’ Mental Attic very, very soon.


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Ok…so Amity over at http://noblesavage.me.uk tagged me on this about a month ago but I didn’t notice I’d been tagged because I don’t usually get tagged for things because I’m a Scatterbrained Bloggosphere member. As evidenced by the fact that I’m just now responding to my tagging. 😉

So, without further ado – – here are my meandering ponderings…

1. What are your current obsessions?

Um….I think it’s probably pretty obvious by now that my current obsessions, in no particular order, are Sasquatches, Viking hats, Tater Tots, Super Heroes, and Crazy People in Atlanta. Honorable mentions are Space Aliens, Wampas, Wookies, High Heels, Flowers painted on my big toes by the pedicurist, The Beatles, Tall Light Caramel Frappaccinos from Starbucks, reading 3 paragraphs from a book before I go to sleep, and Latin Jazz Dance class 3 days a week.

2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?

It’s a tie between jeans and heels. They are both wardrobe staples. That and my Wookie costume – – but I only pull that out in the winter. Goes great with my Jimmy Choos. Ok, I don’t actually have a Wookie costume. Or Jimmy Choos. But it’s only a matter of time before I get both, people!

3. Last dream you had?

Ohhhhhh goody. My nap dreams are always really colorful. The last one I recall in great detail was one I had last week during a 30 min lunchtime nap (don’t be haters because I get to work from home, folks). I dreamed that I opened the blinds of my bedroom to see two Lowes trucks out in my condominium parking lot – – and subsequently, hundreds of members of a high school marching band were filing out of said trucks playing “Just the Two of Us”. And all I could think was “Where is my CAR?” because the lot was completely empty. Oh – – and also a tornado siren was going off in the background. And also I was drunk. Ok – – not really drunk, but if I was, that would have explained a lot, huh?

4. Last thing you bought?

4 cute tops from Victoria’s Secret. Online shopping is an evil, evil thing.

5. What are you listening to?

Craig Ferguson and the dancing puppets he has at the beginning of his show.

6. If you were a god/goddess who would you be?

Fabudite – – Goddess of Fabulousness and Awesomeness

7. Favourite holiday spots?

Paris!!!! But then again, I think my favorite holiday spot will likely be somewhere I haven’t been yet…

8. Reading right now?

Dooce’s (Heather Armstrong) “It Sucked and Then I Cried”

9. Four words to describe yourself.

Awesome, Awesome, Awesome, and Modest

10. Guilty pleasure?

Facebook, Reality TV and Chocolate. Horrors – – HORRORS!!!!

11. Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?

My old college friends. My friend Stacey Supina. Will Farrel. Really good Muscle Relaxor Pills.

12. Favourite spring thing to do?

Well this is kinda my favorite summer thing to do, but I’m going to say it anyway: eating big, ripe bing cherries while drinking a clean, crisp cold white wine and listening to Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald on a hot afternoon. Bliss.

13. When you die, what would you like people to say about you at your funeral?

“Amy used really great hair products and could spit a cherry pit into her hand in a very unobtrusive, classy way..”

14. Best thing you ate or drank lately?

Two cold glasses of the white wine called “Conundrum”. Slightly fruity, complex, lovely.

15. When did you last go for a night out?

Last Saturday went to a concert at the Variety Playhouse. Twas super fun! 🙂

16. Favourite ever film?

I’m going to have to say Amelie – – there are great movies out there, but “Amelie” just completely touches my heart due to the overall message of the film AND the delightful quirkiness of Amelie herself.

17. Care to share some wisdom?

Yeah – – this goes out to all the men based on an experience relayed to me by a male friend of mine: Don’t cut up jalapenos, not wash your hands, then go to the bathroom. You won’t be able to say much other than “Holy Mother of….—>*insert expletives*!!!!!” for hours.

18. Song you can’t get out of your head?

Lately it’s been “Across the Universe” by the Beatles.

19. Thing you are looking forward to?

Taking a trip soon – – I don’t know WHERE I’m goin’, but I’m goin’ somewhere!!!!!

20. Which disease or condition would you most like to see eradicated?

Dementia/Alzheimer’s – – and cancer. And of course constipation.

21. What is your most irrational fear?

That a snake is going to jump out of the toilet and bite me in the ass – – and I’m going to have to get to the hospital and have them treat the ass wound. THIS IS NO JOKE, PEOPLE!!!! Those snakes can get into the plumbing and go all mutant and crazy and next thing you know, you’re walking around with a bandaged ass. Or worse, you end up DYING from the snake bite and then everyone knows that you died because you got bit in the ass by a snake. And so everyone will be trying to be all sad at your funeral but periodically, people’s lips will start twitching and they’ll break into maniacal laughter. And then I will haunt ALL of you for eternity!!!! I’m just sayin’….

22. Name the chore you like doing the LEAST.

Hands down: cleaning the toilet.

Rules of the game. Respond and rework. Answer questions on your own blog. Replace one question. Add one question. Tag 6 people (though I only tagged 4)

I tag:


(On another note – – I canNOT figure out how to do url links on my blog with the wordpress software. I press the “link” button but then it doesn’t work. If anyone out there uses WordPress, please let me know if you have any hints because it’s been driving me INSANE trying to figure it out.)

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Last Monday, I saw a fairy in Atlanta purposefully walking at a jaunty clip toward Moreland Avenue en route from East Atlanta Village. And I suppose it would be note-worthy to mention that the fairy was a middle-aged male whose hair was arranged in two crooked pig tails, was clad in a purple leotard, lavender glitter wings, and, of course…..clutching a magic wand. And the reason why it is note-worthy to mention this is that in all honesty, while the “fairy” did get a second glance from me, it was a respectful second glance. A second glance that said: “You go ON with your big, bad, wand-wielding self, dude. BE THAT FAIRY!” Because, you see…the Creative Crazy Folk in Atlanta are aplenty, and the longer I live here, the more I appreciate them. I had to fight the urge to go back, shake his hand, beat one fist on my chest, and give him some intricate, made-up gang sign that clearly means “RE-SPECK!” in the Land of Mystical Creatures.

I was excited to see a new character because the my other Favorite Crazy Person has become just like a part of scenery during my regular weekly route to dance class. He’s almost too normal to me now. He gets a quick head nod and wave from me from my convertible as I wait at the light at the corner of Briarcliff and Ponce de Leon, sipping from my light Frappacino after Latin Jazz class is over, but otherwise, he’s just another Atlanta citizen, out for a friendly loitering on the corner of a busy street. It was several years ago that I, and every other Atlanta citizen, began to notice him there – – a tall, older, smiling African-American man, holding a cane, wearing bicycle shorts and waving at motorists as we went by. At first you didn’t notice IT because you weren’t expecting IT….then one day, IT jumped out at you like Godzilla in a china shop. Large and menacing and – – well….did I mention LARGE? And did I mention he was wearing BICYCLE SHORTS. Are you catching my drift yet? Here…the only way I can explain it is through illustration (but if you’re easily offended or have children in the room DO NOT SCROLL DOWN ANY FURTHER. And don’t say I didn’t warn you…)


Yeah. His name is, of course, “Willie”, and he’s a bit of a legend. He’s been dubbed Spandex Guy, Disturbing Package Man, Crotch Man, Dong DeLeon, Zucchini Man, Bulge Man – – and a whole myriad of other colorful names by the Atlanta population. And there is much mystery that surrounds him. Is he a male prostitute? One would think so – – but if he is, he’s extremely elusive about it because he doesn’t appear to ever be “picked up” by anyone. Is he homeless? Doesn’t seem to be – – he does go somewhere at the end of the day and hasn’t been seen sleeping on the streets. Is he a beggar? Nope. Doesn’t accept hand-outs. In fact, his main occupation appears to just be smiling and waving his cane at passing motorists while advertising his very impressively long appendage. Apparently at one point, he was prosecuted for indecent exposure but he fought it in the courts and won – – and so he is allowed to continue to wear the bicycle shorts. And wear them he does – – come rain, sleet, snow or shine.

Then there’s Baton Bob. I’ve not actually seen Baton Bob – – but he’s apparently the most legendary Atlanta character around. Basically, he’s a tall, physically fit, African-American man with a penchant for dressing up like a majorette. And a bride. And showing up at various functions doing various gyrations. A Baton Bob sighting is a good omen – – because who couldn’t see a large African-American man dressed as a majorette or a bride and NOT have something good befall them? I mean look at him…




I DEFY you to tell me that you’re not in a better mood now, having seen Baton Bob in his Easter get-up. I mean – – come on. The crazy folk out there ROCK – – because, let’s face it. They’re doing what a lot of us wish we COULD do were we not confined by the societal rules which bind us to a world of “acting sane”. Or, in my case, acting SEMI-sane.

All I’m sayin’ is that if you see me dressed up one day as a superhero wearing a viking hat and a cape, waving at cars with a magic wand made out of tin foil and old newspaper, then I MIGHT not be crazy. I might just finally be really, really SANE.

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So I have Blog Elves working for me, now. Little Elves with cameras on their phones, and zany brains contained within cute heads on their shoulders, on the look-out for things that could rock my blog world. Here are a few photos found out there on various mundane outings by said Elves:

Contribution from my friend Regyna during one of her jaunts to Ikea:




Ok so……..any ideas why pillows require multiple tags as big as your head? Were there complaints at some point in the past that the tags were too SMALL and therefore, some manager in a high-up position in the Ikea chain of command, grinned wickedly and said “Too small? Well then. We can fix THAT now, can’t we?” Then proceeded to yell maniacally at the Ikea Troops of Doom: “BIGGER!!!!! BIGGER!!!!! I’M TALKING TAGS THE SIZE OF ALASKA!!!! I’M TALKING TAGS THE SIZE OF A JUPITER MOON!!!! NOW, NOW, NOW!!!!”

Seriously, you’d have to pull out your paper shredder to properly dispose of the tags – – either that or leave them ON the pillows and risk a midnight strangulation during a position shift. IKEA: from me to you – – SIMMER!!!! We get it!!! There are apparently a lot of rules that come with your pillows. But don’t you think this is a teeny-weeny bit excessive?

Next is a contribution by my friend Elizabeth who saw this monstrosity on the dashboard of the car next to her on a recent store outing:


In case you can’t quite make out what’s going on there (it took me a moment too), that is a farm of WEIRD STUFF on someone’s dash. And by weird stuff, I mean an enchanted forest of plastic animals, cartoon characters, and generally things that should be set up in the playhouse of a whimsical, precocious eight year old child. Firstly, I want to know how a person can see out the window enough to drive. Secondly, I would imagine that the type of person who would PUT such a display on their dashboard could easily get distracted by the display and perhaps move them around, exploring intricate plot lines with the characters – – – while driving 75 MPH down the interstate. And, thus – – we should all forget about being frightened by drunk drivers and should, instead, watch out for THIS GUY when on a leisurely, afternoon drive.

Thirdly – – I wonder how many times they’ve had to re-set those things up after braking a liiiiiitttle too hard at an intersection.

And fourthly – – – well, I don’t have a fourthly. Other than to say I was strangely comforted that there is someone out there WEIRDER THAN ME, driving around in the world.

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Like everyone else, I sometimes wonder about which Star Wars characters would win in a duel. Ok – – I actually never usually wonder that but for reasons even too bizarre for me to describe, I found myself pondering two characters in particular and those are – – the infamous “Wookie” (most often associated with Chewbacca or “Chewy” from the original Star Wars trilogy) and the “Wampa” from The Empire Strikes Back. What is the “Wampa” you might ask? Well – – the Wampa is the big, white, hairy beast that attacked Luke at the beginning of The Empire Strikes Back and hung him up in his evil, dastardly snow cave like a frozen, human bat, to be thawed in the microwave and eaten at a later time with a side dish of broccoli and twice baked potato. Since both beasts are Sasquatchian in their make-up and demeanor, and given my penchant for anything and everything Sasquatch, surely you could understand why the creatures would be so near and dear to my cerebral cortex?

So I languidly pondered who would win in a duel a couple of days this week, as one does, and have decided that I think the Wookie would win. For no good reason other than he seems to be more agile than the Wampa – – – and he hangs out with Han Solo and Han Solo is HOT.

One would think that I would be the only person on the planet to ponder a Wookie vs. Wampa event, wouldn’t one? I mean – I AM the Queen of the Random Thought, admittedly, and Obscurity is my middle name. However – – you would be wrong, wrong, wrong. WRONG. You underestimate the thought processes of a certain breed of human – – and that breed is called: The Star Wars Nerd

All I had to do was google “Wookie vs. Wampa” and a veritable plethora of information on the subject came up, including a make-shift video of such an event that I can only imagine was written and directed by two bored, acne ridden, fifteen year olds who have every Star Wars action figure known to man alphabetized and put away into their own custom designed shelving, covered by a bullet-proof plexi-glass, and who can also roar like a Wookie on command at any party:

But that’s not all, folks. There are Star Wars Nerd Forums. Ohhhhhh yes there are. And these forums have pondered this VERY SUBJECT at length – – giving very well-thought-out, complicated reasoning as to why one or the other would win. Here is an ACTUAL transcript from one of these such online conversations:

Godmoan: you know, who would win in a fight a wampa or a wookie?

AlanWhiteWolf: Naturally a wampa but a properly trained wookie would Nail that wompa cause wompas are dumb.

DarthPlo: wookies have higher brain power, so wookies.

KingAres: LOL that is so false. Humans have higher brain power compared to Gorillas, but a gorilla could detroy a human with ease. That said a Wampa would win.

JekRendar: Since the conditions were not specified, I’d argue a Wookiee would pull out his bowcaster and blast the Wampa 100 meters away.

Darth Aramith: It would depend on the conditions, but in hand to hand combat a wompa would own the wookie.

DarthPlo: A good example. however, like some other people on here said, the terms are not specified. A wookie (or human) would not let something like a Wampa (or gorilla) close enough to do damage, and would find a way to take it out strategically.

KingAres: Very true. I concur more conditions must be set.

Yocswg: Wookie would win. They would be smart enough to know some type of hand to hand combat, and be able to use the Wampa’s size against him. The Wookie would dodge the Wampas wild swings, and use his strength/weight to shove him to the ground. The Wookie would then jump on the Wampas back, and snape his neck for the quick kill.

Kendou: It’s hard to tell from the movie, but wampas are LARGE. They’re certainly a lot stronger than a wookie. Wookies tend to travel not only armed, but heavily armed, usually with bowcasters. If a wook closed in with blades, he would deserve to have his *** handed to him, and he would most likely achieve that outcome. Hanging back and blasting the bid wampa from maximum range would be a lot safer, but we don’t really know how fast wampas can move to close that range. I’d like to see this, but from a safe distance, say half a kilometer away through a rifle scope.

But I think that someone by the name of “Aturi” says it best in this conversation, with this statement:

Aturi: Wookie. don’t ask this question again. Lock this thread for incompetence. You should have known right at the beginning who would win. You disgust me and ashame your family.

So I guess the Wookie would win because he’s smarter and pretty good with a bowstaff. Much like Napoleon Dynamite, really. After reading that this conversation ACTUALLY took place on planet earth by people who seemed at least partially serious, I’m feeling pretty solid again in my own mental faculties.

Also – – based on more research – – if anyone is dying to be a Wampa for Halloween next year, I got you hooked up for that as well. Check out this action:


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Wow. I mean……WOW.

Where would you put this? WHERE WOULD YOU PUT THIS? In any SEMBLANCE of a welcoming home – – where would you possibly put this where it wouldn’t stand the chance of scaring small children or perhaps other LIVING animals? Would it be a special Autumnal table center piece for a group of unsuspecting Thanksgiving guests? Imagine eating your turkey with THAT GUY snarling stiffly at you as you timidly put a bite into your mouth. Or maybe placed prominently on the mantle over the fireplace – – screeching silently down on you as glance shiftily around the room wondering if anyone else has noticed that this thing is not only in EXISTENCE, but is HOLDING A FOOTBALL.

And how would it be explained?

“Well Barbara and I hit the little guy with our car one evening coming back from the country club and we couldn’t bear to see him lying there on the side of the road. So I said ‘Honey….I think there’s something we can do to make everyone feel a lot better – – including our furry friend here…’ He’s become a part of the family, really. We dress him up for every major holiday or seasonal event – – you should see the bunny suit we put him in for Easter. Adorable doesn’t begin to describe it…right honey?”

And I don’t even want to THINK about what he’d look like as Cupid.

Furthermore – – is it just me, or is that thing’s hair styled into a MULLET?

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You know, I didn’t just wake up one day and want to wear a Viking hat. Granted, it’s a perfectly PLAUSIBLE thing to happen in my world, but it just didn’t happen this time. THIS time, I have to…once again….blame Facebook.

Facebook is, I’m convinced, a strange, sometimes disturbing, fabulously inane, alternate universe where your past and present meet in some sort of quasi-reunion extravaganza. I could write an entire post regarding my feelings about it – – but today I am just going to write about one experience that has exploded into an inside joke of epic proportions in my life – – and that is “The Viking Hat Chronicles”.

You see, in the world of Facebook, you can log on and write anything that possibly enters your mind at that given moment and it shows up as your “status”. This status could say anything – – anything at all. ANYTHING. Which, for me (as I’m sure all of you know by now), is like receiving a beautiful, gold-leafed, elegantly scripted invitation to expound on every bizarre, twisted, pseudo-cerebral nugget of information that enters my head. And then the SCARY part is: everyone can see it. All 300 some-odd friends of past and present on your Facebook page: co-workers, a few family members, childhood friends, college friends, long distance friends, old boyfriends, elves, circus clowns, Jimmy Hoffa……….they all can SEE what you’ve written and then, what’s more, HAVE AN OPINION ON IT.

On the day that the Viking Hat Strangeness began, earlier that afternoon I’d had lunch with a friend at a nearby quirky little restaurant – – and on the wall of this restaurant was a painting of a Viking. He was a stern looking Viking – – with a red beard and beady little narrowed eyes which seemed to say “If I weren’t locked up in this painting, I would kick over every table in the room, drag out all the screaming women by their hair, and then burn down the restaurant with the fire that I breathe from my mouth” This caused my friend and me to ponder about whether any kinder, gentler Vikings existed. Maybe one who knitted afghans and quietly read romance novels by the fire, while the rest of his brethren went out to do their daily raping and pillaging. And whether this Viking would have been shunned by all the other Vikings because he wasn’t mean enough to hack it in the Viking’s world of conquering peaceful villages.

With all this on my mind, I came home, and opened my newly acquired book on Iceland – – because in parallel to the Viking painting, I had also been having thoughts about Vikings in relation to Iceland since I’ve become obsessed with the thought of visiting there – – so I’d bought a book on a whim recently to nurture this desire and keep it rolling around in my brain. I’m much more want to create action that way, I’ve found.

As I read this book and pondered the lunch conversation – – I looked at the laptop on my coffee table and thought that perhaps the World of Facebook might want to know my thoughts on this subject matter. Just like I wonder if they might want to know my thoughts when I type out my statuses about tater tots, my Thursday afternoon desire to be an 80’s Rap Star, and my opinion that if Jabba the Hutt had a lesser-known southern cousin in the universe, his name would be Hank. Hank the Hutt.

And so what I blasted off towards Planet Facebook on that particular day was this statement: Amy is reading about Iceland and wondering if there were ever any kind Vikings. And if they were shunned by the Rape and Pillage Vikings?

Whenever I post a thought, I am often surprised by what will catch a person’s attention. Sometimes a status that I think is pretty dadgum funny will be passed over completely, leaving a ghost town of non-commentary around my lonely status – – tumbleweeds blowing down the streets of my vacant attempt at humor. Other times, something completely off-handed that I write on a whim without thinking about it much will garner tremendous response. I almost want to say “But I didn’t even TRY to be funny on this one, People!”

On the day of the Viking comment – – I was somewhere in between these two extremes. While I had obviously been pondering this thought on that day, I honestly didn’t think many people would care about it. So I put it out there and then began to peruse other parts of Facebook, like taking another “My Personality Quiz” or perhaps send a Chuck Norris snow globe to some lucky person’s wall with the Snow Globe Application. So much time to waste on Facebook – – so many applications with which to waste it.

But suddenly I noticed a comment underneath the status – – then another and another. People were making hypotheses about whether the kinder, gentler viking would listen to Bjork or not – – another theorized that his name would be Norval and a children’s book should be written about him. Or better yet, someone added, how about a musical!!!!?? Oh this was good…this was really good! This was better than Chuck Norris snow globes – MUCH better. No sooner had we ventured down the avenue of the musical possibilities, when some of my European friends who’d actually VISITED and/or studied Iceland began chiming in with facts about Iceland. We were informed that Bjork is sooooo yesterday. That the Iceland young folk were now listening to Sigur Ros. And that an actual real, historic Viking was named….get this…… Snorri. Snorri Sturluson. You could almost feel the collective groan from everyone in the commentary thread because, let’s face it, “Snorri” is a profoundly disappointing name for a real Viking. Snorri is the name of a kid whose lunch money gets stolen on the playground and has to carry around a large box of kleenex to accommodate his chronic nose-running problem. And what was MORE, Snorri had a girlfriend who was named “Oddny”. “Well that’s odd”, we all thought.

All told, there were 72 comments contributed to that conversation from people all over the world from all avenues of my life. A Kumbayah moment taken directly out of an episode from The Twilight Zone. And aftershocks occurred in the days following from this conversation including my request to my friend Murdo to do some Viking hat photo shops that were brilliant. This one was used as my profile picture for over a month:


Based on this profile photo, I got much commentary from people both publically on my Facebook page, and privately via e-mail, discussing the Viking Hat – – wanting to know the story of the Viking hat. Some people didn’t care about the story behind the Viking hat, they just loved the idea of me wearing a Viking hat and really didn’t ask WHY I was wearing it. Which, frankly, is a tiny bit worrisome, because it means that people just accept the fact that it’s a perfectly NORMAL thing for me to do. When would people start worrying? If I was dressed up as a demented clown? Or perhaps photographed myself in a George Washington costume eating some pop tarts? What would it take to garner concern that maybe…..maybe…this time, I’ve TOTALLY lost my Raman Noodles? (A request though – – if you think I HAVE gone ’round the bend, please don’t tell my mother your concerns because she’ll call me up and tell me that I will feel much better if I would just clean my house. To my mother, a clean house is the prescription for any mental malady. And George Washington eating pop tarts would cause her to prescribe a REALLY BIG deep cleaning of my house. And I don’t want to.)

Anyway…a few weeks ago, out of the blue, my college friend Heather sent me a note telling me that she had a Viking hat for me. “What??? WHAT????”, I said. “Gimme! GIMME NOW!!!” She said that in a few achingly long days, this piece of plastic horned goodness would be in my hot, greedy little hands. But before she sent it, she took this photo of herself in it:


Do you see? Do you see how the disease has begun to spread? Like some sort of Icelandic fungus…

After I received the hat, and got over my cold, about a week later, I subjected my friend Melissa to the Viking hat while she cooked me dinner when house-sitting for a friend. She wore the hat with pride the entire time she was cooking and let me chronicle the event on film. I think that the hat gave her super human cooking powers because that meal ROCKED:


So be warned, people. What started with a few comments on Facebook is now sweeping the nation – – the world! And if you come into contact with me, then you will likely come into contact with the Viking hat in the near future – – and I WILL take a photo of you in it. Just say a little prayer that I won’t make you pose like this in it (cue my mother calling me RIGHT NOW to tell me I need to clean my tub thoroughly):


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