First, a confession: I'm a Futurama fan. A BIG Futurama fan (you, in the back row--shut the hell up!) and why shouldn't I be? What's not to like about an animated show for adults by Matt Groening (The Simpsons, Life In Hell) that takes place at the beginning of a 31st century chock-full of suicide booths, soap operas for androids, celebrity heads in jars, hideously addictive soft drinks and features an "alcoholic, whore-mongering, chain-smoking" robot, an undeniably hot one-eyed mutant, an increasingly senile mad scientist who runs a delivery service to fund his experiments, a decapodian M. D. with a woefully inadequate knowledge of human anatomy, and a not-so-bright, cryogenically-preserved pizza delivery boy from the year 2000?
Even better, as Groening himself said, "it was full of catnip for geeks" what with "allusions to classic videogames, programming languages, Schrodinger's cat, and the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle." Oh, yeah, and an occasional appearance by Lucy Liu.
Fox canceled the show in 2003 whereupon Cartoon Network began airing reruns to the wild acclaim and near-orgasmic excitement of die-hard fans while garnering a new generation of viewers. Soon thereafter began...The Rumors. Teasing rumors. Exciting rumors. Rumors of new episodes of Futurama. Oh, my, yes!
Well, as it turns out, the rumors were true--Futurama Is Back! Grab A Can of Slurm and Settle In as Bender's Big Score (spoilers galore) hits the DVD shelves TODAY, ultimately (meaning next year) being aired as half-hour episodes on Comedy Central. Get it fer cheap at Amazon.com.
Naturally, the big question is whether my favorite character, the Robot Devil, will make an appearance.
Anyone besides me notice how much the Robot Devil sounds like deceased voice actor Hans Conried?
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Christmas List 2007
Dear Santa,
Well, Black Friday is almost upon us once again and I figured what better time toconvince... uh... remind you of how incredibly good I've been. After all these years you should know the litany by heart but in case you've forgotten:
"I've fomented no revolutions this year nor have I overthrown any governments despite almost overwhelming temptation. I haven't engaged in mass murder, no serial killings, no random acts of violence, no choke sex (hell, no sex at all!), no waylaying of strangers to harvest their body parts, and only minor, completely excusable corruptions of youth. I've refrained from kidnapping any heiresses, selling any government secrets, or even holding the planet for ransom. I haven't tampered with things man was not meant to know (much) and that annoying human sacrifice thing is now in the dim, dark, distant past. I've limited my stalking activities to the online realm and I haven't propositioned any of my female associates to do that...thing...with the Waring blender in quite a while..."
We'll conveniently ignore the fact that my being good wasn't entirely by choice; after all, at my age the opportunities to be truly bad are few and far between. Still, we must judge people by their actions and not their thoughts, mustn't we?
Well, whatever.
Books, CDs, and DVDs are always appreciated and I just happen to have an Amazon.com Wishlist set up for your convenience. Keep in mind that the more items you bring, the more I'm distracted from plotting World Domination--a bored G. W. is a dangerous G. W.--and besides, I'm well-armed and I know where you live.
Neighborhood Domination is another matter altogether and I'm figuring that some Catapult, Trebuchet, and Ballista kits would keep me busy and help me protect my backyard from random insurgents and drunken college students. Throw in a couple of rubber band-firing Gatling guns mounted on a Rip Saw UGV tank and I'll guarantee you everyone on my street will be good!
I love my HP computer dearly, but it does have enough age on it as to completely negate its Coolness Factor. I'm thinking an Alienware Area-51 ALX CF desktop for home and an Area-51 m9750 notebook for hanging out in trendy coffee shops (the latter got a mention in Wired 15.12) ought to bring me up to speed. Add an admiring Christina Ricci with a vintage copy of Redneck Rampage and my status as a Geek Gawd will be assured.
Speaking of the Coolness Factor, there's not much of it when cruising around Richmond in my 2000 Mitsubishi Galant, so I was thinking what I really need is a car that makes a statement, something like the Aston Martin DB9 for tooling around the countryside pretending I'm James Bond, the classic 1955 Lincoln Futura for tooling around town oozing Geeky Goodness, or maybe the greatest of all mechanized memes, Carthedral: "a 1971 Cadillac hearse modified with 1959 Cadillac tailfins. Welded on top is a VW beetle and metal armatures with fiber glass. Carthedral is a rolling Gothic Cathedral complete with flying buttresses, stained glass pointed windows, and gargoyles."
We all recognize the value of Gothic street cred, right?
An speaking of Gothic cred, the apartment could always use a few decorative accents and I'm thinking a nice, comfy electric chair would look great in the corner, especially if there was a Count Dracula casket beside it as a coffee table and a few skulls from Spellow House to round out the theme. May as well throw in a Coffin Clock so I'll know how much time I've wasted perusing Alan Moore's Lost Girls which, uh, I'll be needing a copy of as well. Feel free to toss in a Black Death sweatshirt in lieu of a frou-frou smoking jacket.
Well, that's about it for this year. As usual, I'll be leaving a little something for your efforts, only instead of milk, cookies, and Fentanyl I figured you might like a change of pace--you'll be finding a couple of bottles of genuine (and now fully legal in the US!) absinthe on top of the television set: Kubler for you and Lucid for Mrs. Claus, so put on your best Bohemian garb, grab a sugar cube or two, drink up, get nekkid, and see the Green Fairy! Leave the cat alone; he's new and wouldn't understand.
Have a Merry Christmas!
Well, Black Friday is almost upon us once again and I figured what better time to
"I've fomented no revolutions this year nor have I overthrown any governments despite almost overwhelming temptation. I haven't engaged in mass murder, no serial killings, no random acts of violence, no choke sex (hell, no sex at all!), no waylaying of strangers to harvest their body parts, and only minor, completely excusable corruptions of youth. I've refrained from kidnapping any heiresses, selling any government secrets, or even holding the planet for ransom. I haven't tampered with things man was not meant to know (much) and that annoying human sacrifice thing is now in the dim, dark, distant past. I've limited my stalking activities to the online realm and I haven't propositioned any of my female associates to do that...thing...with the Waring blender in quite a while..."
We'll conveniently ignore the fact that my being good wasn't entirely by choice; after all, at my age the opportunities to be truly bad are few and far between. Still, we must judge people by their actions and not their thoughts, mustn't we?
Well, whatever.
Books, CDs, and DVDs are always appreciated and I just happen to have an Amazon.com Wishlist set up for your convenience. Keep in mind that the more items you bring, the more I'm distracted from plotting World Domination--a bored G. W. is a dangerous G. W.--and besides, I'm well-armed and I know where you live.
Neighborhood Domination is another matter altogether and I'm figuring that some Catapult, Trebuchet, and Ballista kits would keep me busy and help me protect my backyard from random insurgents and drunken college students. Throw in a couple of rubber band-firing Gatling guns mounted on a Rip Saw UGV tank and I'll guarantee you everyone on my street will be good!
I love my HP computer dearly, but it does have enough age on it as to completely negate its Coolness Factor. I'm thinking an Alienware Area-51 ALX CF desktop for home and an Area-51 m9750 notebook for hanging out in trendy coffee shops (the latter got a mention in Wired 15.12) ought to bring me up to speed. Add an admiring Christina Ricci with a vintage copy of Redneck Rampage and my status as a Geek Gawd will be assured.
Speaking of the Coolness Factor, there's not much of it when cruising around Richmond in my 2000 Mitsubishi Galant, so I was thinking what I really need is a car that makes a statement, something like the Aston Martin DB9 for tooling around the countryside pretending I'm James Bond, the classic 1955 Lincoln Futura for tooling around town oozing Geeky Goodness, or maybe the greatest of all mechanized memes, Carthedral: "a 1971 Cadillac hearse modified with 1959 Cadillac tailfins. Welded on top is a VW beetle and metal armatures with fiber glass. Carthedral is a rolling Gothic Cathedral complete with flying buttresses, stained glass pointed windows, and gargoyles."
We all recognize the value of Gothic street cred, right?
An speaking of Gothic cred, the apartment could always use a few decorative accents and I'm thinking a nice, comfy electric chair would look great in the corner, especially if there was a Count Dracula casket beside it as a coffee table and a few skulls from Spellow House to round out the theme. May as well throw in a Coffin Clock so I'll know how much time I've wasted perusing Alan Moore's Lost Girls which, uh, I'll be needing a copy of as well. Feel free to toss in a Black Death sweatshirt in lieu of a frou-frou smoking jacket.
Well, that's about it for this year. As usual, I'll be leaving a little something for your efforts, only instead of milk, cookies, and Fentanyl I figured you might like a change of pace--you'll be finding a couple of bottles of genuine (and now fully legal in the US!) absinthe on top of the television set: Kubler for you and Lucid for Mrs. Claus, so put on your best Bohemian garb, grab a sugar cube or two, drink up, get nekkid, and see the Green Fairy! Leave the cat alone; he's new and wouldn't understand.
Have a Merry Christmas!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
A Thanksgiving Prayer
I'm feeling particularly cynical tonight and with Thanksgiving just a week away, what better time to post a link to William S. Burroughs' "A Thanksgiving Prayer"?
Now that that's out of my system...
The last photo (taken about 2:30 this morning on 18th Street in Richmond, VA--don't ask) reminds me of the interestingly-translated instructions on a can of Honda motorcycle touch-up paint I saw way back in the early 70s: "Be stirred, be thinned with lacquer." Sound advice for young and old.
Now that that's out of my system...
The last photo (taken about 2:30 this morning on 18th Street in Richmond, VA--don't ask) reminds me of the interestingly-translated instructions on a can of Honda motorcycle touch-up paint I saw way back in the early 70s: "Be stirred, be thinned with lacquer." Sound advice for young and old.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Halloween Post-Mortem
One would think, assuming you know me at all and, therefore, are aware that I am the consummate Halloween Junkie with fangs of candy corn and veins pulsing with pumpkin goo, that I would now regale you with tales of my most recent Samhain insanity, but you would be wrong.
Nope. It was, for the most part, a quiet and uneventful evening in the G. W. household.
I had originally intended to do a Halloween post wherein I acted as a sort of half-assed online DJ, inundating your poor computer screen with a slew of seasonally-appropriate YouTube links-- "Dinner With Drac" by John Zacherle, the obligatory "Monster Mash" (but a live version with both Bobby "Boris" Pickett and John Zacherle), "Werewolves of London" (also live, with a somewhat manic Warren Zevon), and so forth and so on, including what has to be the scariest music video of all time, Nina Hagen covering David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust."
Didn't happen.
After a...trying...day at work I came home, cooked up some Ramen noodles (which, I guess, is pretty scary all by itself), took an extended nap, and, really, didn't do much of anything beyond channel-surfing, hoping for an Addams Family marathon or repeats of all the Roseanne Halloween specials.
No such luck.
However, at 10:00 p. m. Turner Classic Movies unexpectedly (to me) aired one of the classic horror films of all time, The Body Snatcher with Boris Karloff.
Ah, bliss! Moody, atmospheric, high contrast black & white goodness! No quirky-assed, be-gimmicked serial killers, no gallons of squirting blood 'n' gore, no on-screen decapitations, just the unnervingly quiet menace of Boris Karloff, who can utter even the most prosaic of lines ("Why, hello, Toddy!") and fill it with horrific nuance. When Bela Lugosi as "Joseph" attempts to blackmail Karloff's character, cabman John Gray, midway through the film...
Joseph: I know you kill people to sell bodies.
John Gray: You say you came here of your own account? No one sent you, no one knows you're here?
Joseph: Give me money or I tell the police that you murder the subjects.
John Gray: Well, Joseph, you shall have money, why should you not? I don't suppose the great Dr MacFarlane is over lavish with his pay?
Joseph: No.
...you know things aren't going to turn out well for poor Bela!*
And that was Halloween, 2007, safe and sane, quiet and uneventful, except for one little thing--
When I left for work the next morning I discovered that my front door had been covered with bloody (adult-sized) hand prints during the night.
And I still don't know to whom they belong.
Cue The Twilight Zone theme.
* In more ways than one. This was the last film Boris and Bela made together and Bela's role is a small one--his continuing drug use had taken its toll on both his looks and career.
Nope. It was, for the most part, a quiet and uneventful evening in the G. W. household.
I had originally intended to do a Halloween post wherein I acted as a sort of half-assed online DJ, inundating your poor computer screen with a slew of seasonally-appropriate YouTube links-- "Dinner With Drac" by John Zacherle, the obligatory "Monster Mash" (but a live version with both Bobby "Boris" Pickett and John Zacherle), "Werewolves of London" (also live, with a somewhat manic Warren Zevon), and so forth and so on, including what has to be the scariest music video of all time, Nina Hagen covering David Bowie's "Ziggy Stardust."
Didn't happen.
After a...trying...day at work I came home, cooked up some Ramen noodles (which, I guess, is pretty scary all by itself), took an extended nap, and, really, didn't do much of anything beyond channel-surfing, hoping for an Addams Family marathon or repeats of all the Roseanne Halloween specials.
No such luck.
However, at 10:00 p. m. Turner Classic Movies unexpectedly (to me) aired one of the classic horror films of all time, The Body Snatcher with Boris Karloff.
Ah, bliss! Moody, atmospheric, high contrast black & white goodness! No quirky-assed, be-gimmicked serial killers, no gallons of squirting blood 'n' gore, no on-screen decapitations, just the unnervingly quiet menace of Boris Karloff, who can utter even the most prosaic of lines ("Why, hello, Toddy!") and fill it with horrific nuance. When Bela Lugosi as "Joseph" attempts to blackmail Karloff's character, cabman John Gray, midway through the film...
Joseph: I know you kill people to sell bodies.
John Gray: You say you came here of your own account? No one sent you, no one knows you're here?
Joseph: Give me money or I tell the police that you murder the subjects.
John Gray: Well, Joseph, you shall have money, why should you not? I don't suppose the great Dr MacFarlane is over lavish with his pay?
Joseph: No.
...you know things aren't going to turn out well for poor Bela!*
And that was Halloween, 2007, safe and sane, quiet and uneventful, except for one little thing--
When I left for work the next morning I discovered that my front door had been covered with bloody (adult-sized) hand prints during the night.
And I still don't know to whom they belong.
Cue The Twilight Zone theme.
* In more ways than one. This was the last film Boris and Bela made together and Bela's role is a small one--his continuing drug use had taken its toll on both his looks and career.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Dead Media
Last time, as you may recall, I posted pics of the 2007 Richmond Zombie Walk, which was absolutely fantabulous, a complete and total blast, and something I may actually participate in next year--hey, I've already got a genuine body bag, a certain amount of greasepaint, and a reprint of Dick Smith's Do-It-Yourself Monster Make-Up Handbook; the only thing stopping me is/has been laziness on my part.
But anyway...
My camera is an Olympus Camedia D-380, a two megapixel minimally-frilled device that was quite the bargain when I bought it back in--2002? 2003?--and it has served me well for the kind of occasional (very occasional), grab-'n' go photography I do these days, but photographing a bunch of zombies with an eight megabyte memory turned out to be distinctly limiting, since 8mb translates to about maybe 15 images. Obviously, I need additional, larger memory cards.
You know what's coming, don't you? You can smell it.
Yeah. The D-380 uses SmartMedia, an obsolete flash memory card, very difficult to find these days and, as you might suspect, the Olympus website had absolutely no redirects to current sources since they're long out of production. Well, "long" in digital terms, which can mean "minutes" in this ever changing world in which we live in.
Sigh.
Leave it to me to be a piss-poor consumer and not upgrade all my electronics on a regular basis. I have an Olympus OM-1n 35 mm. film camera from the late '70s that's pretty much a high-tech paperweight because it uses mercury batteries, which are no longer sold legally in the U. S. and for which there are no satisfactory substitutes. I have a cassette deck as an integral part of my stereo system, a VHS player in the closet; hell, I still have a Super-8 movie camera and a vacuum tube Yaesu FT-101ZD HF radio transceiver. Oh, and a working (last time I checked) but no longer used Mac 512Ke.
I'm an Analog Zombie from the Dead Media Project.
Well, this is where eBay comes into its own and, yes, I found SmartMedia cards for a reasonable enough price, but still, it saddens me to think that my apartment is becoming a monument to obsolescence.
Cautionary Tale: When my friend Anne got married of course I took my trusty D-380 to her pre-wedding party and at one point during the evening I had to make a mad dash for the bathroom (imminent diet soda/bladder emergency) and left it in the care of several friends, one of whom happened to be Bill G.
I should have known better.
At the end of the evening I came home, fired up my editing software, downloaded my pictures, and noticed one of them was a bit... odd: a little out of focus, strangely underlit, possessed of a mysterious abstract nebulosity, certainly not something I remembered taking (I'm not that artistic). A few minutes of digital fiddling solved the mystery--Bill G. had shoved my camera down the front of his pants and produced a post-modern portrait of his genitals.
But anyway...
My camera is an Olympus Camedia D-380, a two megapixel minimally-frilled device that was quite the bargain when I bought it back in--2002? 2003?--and it has served me well for the kind of occasional (very occasional), grab-'n' go photography I do these days, but photographing a bunch of zombies with an eight megabyte memory turned out to be distinctly limiting, since 8mb translates to about maybe 15 images. Obviously, I need additional, larger memory cards.
You know what's coming, don't you? You can smell it.
Yeah. The D-380 uses SmartMedia, an obsolete flash memory card, very difficult to find these days and, as you might suspect, the Olympus website had absolutely no redirects to current sources since they're long out of production. Well, "long" in digital terms, which can mean "minutes" in this ever changing world in which we live in.
Sigh.
Leave it to me to be a piss-poor consumer and not upgrade all my electronics on a regular basis. I have an Olympus OM-1n 35 mm. film camera from the late '70s that's pretty much a high-tech paperweight because it uses mercury batteries, which are no longer sold legally in the U. S. and for which there are no satisfactory substitutes. I have a cassette deck as an integral part of my stereo system, a VHS player in the closet; hell, I still have a Super-8 movie camera and a vacuum tube Yaesu FT-101ZD HF radio transceiver. Oh, and a working (last time I checked) but no longer used Mac 512Ke.
I'm an Analog Zombie from the Dead Media Project.
Well, this is where eBay comes into its own and, yes, I found SmartMedia cards for a reasonable enough price, but still, it saddens me to think that my apartment is becoming a monument to obsolescence.
Cautionary Tale: When my friend Anne got married of course I took my trusty D-380 to her pre-wedding party and at one point during the evening I had to make a mad dash for the bathroom (imminent diet soda/bladder emergency) and left it in the care of several friends, one of whom happened to be Bill G.
I should have known better.
At the end of the evening I came home, fired up my editing software, downloaded my pictures, and noticed one of them was a bit... odd: a little out of focus, strangely underlit, possessed of a mysterious abstract nebulosity, certainly not something I remembered taking (I'm not that artistic). A few minutes of digital fiddling solved the mystery--Bill G. had shoved my camera down the front of his pants and produced a post-modern portrait of his genitals.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
The 2007 Richmond Zombie Walk
Okay, first we need to establish the mood and you can do that by clicking here and watching Commander USA sing "The Zombie Song" (it's a tad faint, so maximize your volume). I'll wait.
Done? Cool!
Today was significant for two reasons: (1) my friend Beth was pimping her new horror novel, Homeplace, at Creatures 'N' Crooks Bookshoppe in Carytown (she's even got a YouTube video for it done by illustrator Cortney Skinner!) and (2) the third Richmond, VA Zombie Walk was taking place... in Carytown, which meant I didn't have to forsake one for the other!
I hauled my lazy ass out of bed much earlier than I preferred for a Saturday morning (having stayed up way too late getting psyched by watching Saw III), whereupon I showered, shaved, dressed, grabbed my man purse, my Olympus digital camera, extra batteries, a bottle of Diet Pepsi (you know, the essentials!), and headed over to the parking lot of Benedictine High School where the zombies were receiving their last minute instructions (click the pics for a larger image).
"And if the mummies show up again this year let's try not to have any altercations. We'll do our thing and they can do theirs."
You couldn't have asked for a nicer day to take a Zombie Walk--deep blue sky, fluffy white clouds, temps in the low eighties. People were in a great mood, even the Zombie Pope!
Jesus drove up a little later (hey, He's one of the Living Dead, too!), but I didn't get a picture.
Having been briefed, the zombies then headed for the Krogers parking lot at the west end of Carytown while I scurried towards Creatures 'N' Crooks in the middle, but not before grabbing a shot of my future ex-wife loading a few things into her pick-up truck.
By this time Beth had been hanging out at the bookstore for about an hour with only Cortney and Hamilton the Cat for company...
...at which point I burst in announcing "Zombies a-comin!", which they were, but heading east on the other side of the street. This gave me a chance to purchase Homefront and Joe Lansdale's Lost Echoes (and yes, I apologized to Beth for being unfaithful) while catching up with Beth & Cortney and waiting for the crowd of... what? Fifty? A hundred? zombies to make the return circuit, eventually passing right in front of the bookstore.
I'll be linking to other, better pictures by those more skilled than I as they get posted, but in the meantime...
Done? Cool!
Today was significant for two reasons: (1) my friend Beth was pimping her new horror novel, Homeplace, at Creatures 'N' Crooks Bookshoppe in Carytown (she's even got a YouTube video for it done by illustrator Cortney Skinner!) and (2) the third Richmond, VA Zombie Walk was taking place... in Carytown, which meant I didn't have to forsake one for the other!
I hauled my lazy ass out of bed much earlier than I preferred for a Saturday morning (having stayed up way too late getting psyched by watching Saw III), whereupon I showered, shaved, dressed, grabbed my man purse, my Olympus digital camera, extra batteries, a bottle of Diet Pepsi (you know, the essentials!), and headed over to the parking lot of Benedictine High School where the zombies were receiving their last minute instructions (click the pics for a larger image).
"And if the mummies show up again this year let's try not to have any altercations. We'll do our thing and they can do theirs."You couldn't have asked for a nicer day to take a Zombie Walk--deep blue sky, fluffy white clouds, temps in the low eighties. People were in a great mood, even the Zombie Pope!
Jesus drove up a little later (hey, He's one of the Living Dead, too!), but I didn't get a picture.
Having been briefed, the zombies then headed for the Krogers parking lot at the west end of Carytown while I scurried towards Creatures 'N' Crooks in the middle, but not before grabbing a shot of my future ex-wife loading a few things into her pick-up truck.
By this time Beth had been hanging out at the bookstore for about an hour with only Cortney and Hamilton the Cat for company...
...at which point I burst in announcing "Zombies a-comin!", which they were, but heading east on the other side of the street. This gave me a chance to purchase Homefront and Joe Lansdale's Lost Echoes (and yes, I apologized to Beth for being unfaithful) while catching up with Beth & Cortney and waiting for the crowd of... what? Fifty? A hundred? zombies to make the return circuit, eventually passing right in front of the bookstore.
I'll be linking to other, better pictures by those more skilled than I as they get posted, but in the meantime...
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Baconpunk
Last time, as you may recall (see Recipe Madness), I mentioned how my friend Margie and I are complete and total Bacon Whores; we believe everything is better with bacon.
(Margie: "Finally I know what to put on my tombstone--'Bacon Whore.' What better way to sum up my life?")
Then I posted about Bacon Brittle aka Bacon Toffee and wondered where the hell I've been that I'd never heard of such a thing.
Well, tonight we're going deeper into the weirdness.
Some of you may know I'm a big ol' fan of Warren Ellis, author of such little excursions into madness as Crooked Little Vein and Transmetropolitan. He's something of a 'Netslut as well, posting frequently on LiveJournal, MySpace, and his own personal websites, so, since I'm a complete geek, I check 'em all daily looking for interesting informational tidbits and singularly cool or obscene quotes to steal and claim as my own. Wednesday he linked to this saying,
"A few of my friend (sic) will know what I mean when I say that this may be a baconpunk object."
"Baconpunk"? WTF...?
"This" is Mo's Bacon Bar, "applewood smoked bacon, alder wood smoked salt, deep milk chocolate." $7.00 for 3 oz. (!) and currently out of stock, the little teases, but, oh yeah, baby, if anything is Baconpunk this is it!
And Margie and I will have matching tombstones.
(Margie: "Finally I know what to put on my tombstone--'Bacon Whore.' What better way to sum up my life?")
Then I posted about Bacon Brittle aka Bacon Toffee and wondered where the hell I've been that I'd never heard of such a thing.
Well, tonight we're going deeper into the weirdness.
Some of you may know I'm a big ol' fan of Warren Ellis, author of such little excursions into madness as Crooked Little Vein and Transmetropolitan. He's something of a 'Netslut as well, posting frequently on LiveJournal, MySpace, and his own personal websites, so, since I'm a complete geek, I check 'em all daily looking for interesting informational tidbits and singularly cool or obscene quotes to steal and claim as my own. Wednesday he linked to this saying,
"A few of my friend (sic) will know what I mean when I say that this may be a baconpunk object."
"Baconpunk"? WTF...?
"This" is Mo's Bacon Bar, "applewood smoked bacon, alder wood smoked salt, deep milk chocolate." $7.00 for 3 oz. (!) and currently out of stock, the little teases, but, oh yeah, baby, if anything is Baconpunk this is it!
And Margie and I will have matching tombstones.
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