February 5th, 2006

breeden

(no subject)

Since everybody else has to have an opinion about Muslims, cartoons, Danish newspapers, and depictions of the Prophet Mohammed, I'm going to tell you mine.

Everybody involved's a freakin' moron.

I am sorely tempted to just end with "Thank you, and good night," but I suppose I should clarify a bit more, just so that people are getting angry with me for the right reasons (although since people have already dug in their camps on this one, I suspect it's probably too late, and for them, the rest of my post will be like a weird Far Side cartoon--"Blah blah blah Islam! blah blah blah free speech!" Come to think of it, that's what a lot of the posts read like to me, too.)
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breeden

And Now For Something Completely Different...

Okay, this one's been bugging me, and seeing "Spirited Away" put me in the kid's-books-I-have-known mood, and now it's really starting to nag me.

Once 'pon a time, I had this book. It had red covers and a black binding and I include that just because I remember it, not because I don't think that people who go into a bookstore and say "I want this book...uh...it was blue..." deserve to be hung from the ankles until they turn puce.

It was about this girl, who's grandfather had died. But she went through a (tunnel? hole? path in the woods? interdimensional vortex?) and got to a little valley, where her grandfather had prepared this little cabin, and she lived in it for awhile. It was kind of like a young girl Swiss-Family-Robinson thing, I think. Maybe. I do recall that there were mountain goats in the valley, and she named one of them Billy the Kid.

That's all I recall. Obviously, I cannot take this sort of information to a bookstore, (see above about ankles and puce) and I don't even have enough to google successfully--my poking around netted me "No Flying In The House" which I recall from the same time period and also enjoyed thorough, even if I cried every time when the dog-fairy turned into clockwork.

Ring any bells for anybody? I'd love to find it again.

Edit: Crap, now that I'm looking up the "What was that book?" sites, I'm starting to think of more I'd like to find. There was the one with the pet dragon (red and I think Welsh) who ate coal, but his human family couldn't afford enough coal, and I swear to god, my memory has the kids stealing and feeding him bars of uranium. (I'm guessing this one is NOT coming back into print any time soon.) And the one with the two little witches with hair the color of moonlight and sunlight, which I know I enjoyed at the pre-Nancy Drew stage...my brain is sometimes like a library with no card catalog, I swear.
breeden

And Then I Drew A Mushroom's Butt...

http://www.deviantart.com/view/28680628/

The problem with character ideas is that they lead to a desire to put the character somewhere, doing something, because what good is an isolated character? who cares about it?, and the next thing you know, you have, for example, drawn nearly three hundred pages worth of webcomic because one evening you were bored and a wombat bit Steve Irwin's leg.

I am thus wary of drawing characters of any sort in isolation, because it has all these awful repercussions to my time management skills. This seems safe enough, though. I don't see a mushroom brothel or anything suddenly lunging out of my brain...
breeden

(no subject)

Ooookaaaaay....

So the phone rings. Caller ID gives an unfamiliar name. I pick it up.

Me: Hello?

Girl (pre-teen, I would guess): Hi, I'm with the girl scouts and we're selling cookies and we have mint thins and chocolate and (rattles off list of cookie varieties)

Me: Thanks, but sorry, I'm not interested--

Girl: You want mint, then? Okay, we'll come by your house. *click*

Me: ...

I cannot shake the feeling this is some variety of scam, somehow, although what they may hope to gain has me baffled. Perhaps this is some demented scout version of "freaking out the mundanes." (If so, the scouts have changed significantly since I was a Brownie...) If a girl scout does show up on my doorstep, for their sake, I hope they wait until the PMS has broken, or they're getting a lecture on the legality of cold calling in addition to not selling any cookies.

James is convinced we're about to see a Normandy-style Girl Scout invasion on the porch. I suspect I'll be the one answering the door for the next week.