Daily Dose o' Cute



Potter waits patiently.

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Two Minute Nostalgia Sublime



Jobriath: "Rock of Ages"

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Seen

So, last weekend, I'm watching the latest episode of Lifetime's "On the Road with Austin & Santino", which is about two fashion designers, Austin Scarlett and Santino Rice, who were runners-up on different seasons of "Project Runway."

In case you aren't familiar with Messrs. Scarlett and Rice, allow me to make the proper introductions…

This is Austin Scarlett.


He is petite and Caucasian and very pale and clean-shaven and has a personal style that is perhaps best described as fop-glam.

This is Santino Rice.


He is tall and biracial and swarthy and bearded and has a personal style that is perhaps best described as hobo chic.

And yet this is nonetheless what I discovered in the last episode of "On the Road."


Nope!

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Bully For You

It's a new week, so Focus on the Family has a new villain.

As kids head back to school, conservative Christian media ministry Focus on the Family perceives a bully on the playground: national gay-advocacy groups.

School officials allow these outside groups to introduce policies, curriculum and library books under the guise of diversity, safety or bullying-prevention initiatives, said Focus on the Family education expert Candi Cushman.

"We feel more and more that activists are being deceptive in using anti-bullying rhetoric to introduce their viewpoints, while the viewpoint of Christian students and parents are increasingly belittled," Cushman said.

Public schools increasingly convey that homosexuality is normal and should be accepted, Cushman said, while opposing viewpoints by conservative Christians are portrayed as bigotry.
Gee, I wonder why anyone would ever think that labeling an entire class of people as an "abomination" was bigotry?

Actually, it's no surprise to see FotF standing up for bullies; that's their stock in trade. And isn't it ironic that they get their tails all puffed up about the Radical Homosexuals recruiting kids when that's basically what they do to lure their unsuspecting prey into their din of inequity?

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Number of the Day

72: The percentage of British government budget cuts estimated to be born by women, prompting the women's advocacy group The Fawcett Society, to file "an unprecedented complaint with the nation's high court this month arguing that the government failed to consider the effect on women of its leaner 'emergency budget'."

"The government is under a duty to look at its policies and check whether they are likely to widen inequality," said Anna Bird, head of policy for the Fawcett Society. "We do not think they undertook that task when putting forth the hardest, most austere budget in generations. Women are going to be adversely affected as a result. That should not happen."

...Even more damning, critics of the budget cuts say, is a letter by Theresa May - one of Cameron's top ministers and in charge of woman's affairs - warning the treasury of the "real risk" that its budget could be considered unlawful given a potentially outsized impact on women and disadvantaged citizens. The letter was leaked to the news media.

...The new government is also taking aim at state funds for charities, which critics say serve as a vital lifeline for millions of women. Yvonne Traynor, chief executive of the Croydon Rape and Sexual Abuse Support Center in south London, said a "panic" has set in as cuts are set to eliminate about 40 percent of the center's $460,000 annual budget. "We've struggled for 10 years to build a center that helps women face the trauma in their lives, and now they are trying to claw it back," she said. "Women are often the poorest people in society, with fewer options in their lives. When you cut back like this, they are going to suffer most."
Additionally, the Institute for Fiscal Studies has completed a report demonstrating, to absolutely no surprise at all, that "the nation's poorest residents are set to be hit the hardest by the cuts," prompting Britain's independent Equality and Human Rights Commission to order "the Treasury to prove it considered the impact of its cuts on vulnerable groups or face 'enforcement action'."

Wow.

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The Overton Window: Chapter Two

Noah Gardner stands at the candy machine, his Tootsie Roll falls, and he stares, enchanted, at a young woman pinning a flyer to the breakroom bulletin board. She struggles to reach the top of the board and Noah offers to help.

She ignores him, but he's not put off.

Something about this woman defied a traditional chick-at-a-glance inventory. Without a doubt all the goodies were in all the right places, but no mere scale of one to ten was going to do the job this time. It was an entirely new experience for him. Though he'd been in her presence for less than a minute, her soul had locked itself onto his senses, far more than her substance had.

Oh, Christ. "A traditional chick-at-a-glance inventory"? "All the goodies were in all the right places"? You're kidding me, right? I guess that's what happens when someone's soul locks into your senses. Whatever the fuck that means.

She hardly wore any makeup, it seemed, nothing needed concealment or embellishment. Simple silver jewelry, tight weathered jeans on the threadbare outer limits of the company's casual-Friday dress code, everything obviously chosen and worn for no one's approval but her own. A lush abundance of dark auburn hair pulled back in a loose French twist and held in place by two crisscrossed number-two pencils. The style was probably the work of only a few seconds but it couldn't have been more becoming if she'd spent hours at a salon.

She's a free spirit, with natural beauty. Better than all that arm candy Noah had been musing over in the previous chapter. You got all that, right? I can't wait until she lets her hair down, literally, and her full radiance is revealed. I bet Gardner passes out at that moment.

The woman hangs the flyer, and it's described pretty much just like this. More or less. The eagle was my idea.



We the People

If you love your country but fear for its future,

join us for an evening of truth that will open your eyes!


Guest speakers include:
Earl Matthew Thomas-1976 U.S. Presidential candidate (L) and bestselling author of Divided We Fall
Joyce McDevitt-New York regional community liaison, Liberty Belles
Maj. Gen. Francis N. Klein-former INSCOM commanding general (ret. 1984), cofounder of GuardiansOfLiberty.com
Kurt Bilger-Tri-state coordinator, Sons of the American Revolution
Beverly Emerson-Director emeritus, Founders' Keepers
Danny Bailey-The man behind the YouTube phenomenon Overthrow, with 35,000,000 views and counting!

Bring a friend, come lift a glass, and raise your voice for liberty!
www.FoundersKeepers.com
August 31st, 7:00 PM, Heritage Club

Oh my, the rally (the assembly?) is tonight! Such short notice, Noah asks. (Oh, and yay for the YouTube reference. Relevance!)

"Congratulations, you can read." Oh, she's sassy too! What a woman! She tells him she doesn't much expect anyone here to attend. And why not?

"All you PR people do is lie for a living," she said. "The truth is just another story to you."

I wonder what Beck's PR people think of this sentiment? Anyway, Noah introduces himself and the woman retorts firing off some helpful facts, more for the reader's benefit than anyone's, I imagine:

Noah has a fancy office, he's just been promoted to VP and his father owns the company. No wonder he's so existential and forlorn. Or whatever he is.

Then the sparks really start to fly:

"Hey, I have to confess something."

"I'll bet you do."

"You haven't told me your name yet," Noah said, "and I've been trying to read it off your name tag, but I'm worried that you'll get the wrong idea about where I'm looking."

"Go for it. I'm not shy."

Rowr!

It's like Bogie and Bacall up there on the page. Are you hawt yet? I am so engorged by this. Figuratively, I mean.

Noah checks out the name badge pinned to her chest, notes the edge of a tattoo, "a bird, or maybe it was an angel" (I call dibs on it being a bald eagle!), and learns her name:

"Molly Ross," he said.

She tipped his chin back up with a knuckle.

"This is fascinating and all, Mr. Gardner, but I need to go and service the postage meter."

Okay. Hold on. There is no way that was an accident. She has to service the postage meter, seriously? You know what? I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and suggest that the ghostwriter here knew exactly what he was doing all along and purposefully barfed up the shittiest manuscript he could, as a joke. And somehow, the thing met with Beck's approval ("Don't change a goddamned word!" I imagine Beck yelling at his editor) and got published. Like a prank that's spun out of control. And now library shelves everywhere are stunk up with this travesty.

Noah asks Molly if she's going to the rally (the assembly?) tonight. He says he might go, being how patriotic he is and all. Then Molly tells a joke. But it's not really a joke. Made some weird Dadaist/Libertarian anti-joke. I dunno:

"Noah comes home—Noah from the Bible, you know? So Noah comes home after he finally got all the animals into the ark, and his wife asks him what he’s been doing all week. Do you know what he said to her? He said, 'Honey, now I herd everything.'"

Molly walks away, telling Noah over her shoulder not to forget his candy bar. Noah is left speechless.

I know how you feel, Noah. I really do.

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Open Thread

Photobucket

Hosted by a Jawa and a LIN droid.

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Question of the Day

What's for dinner?

Tonight at Shakes Manor: Lasagna.

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Texting! With Liss and Deeky!

Yesterday morning…

Liss: Our water heater just broke. Water everywhere.

Deeky: OMFG!

Liss: When we got up this morning, Iain got downstairs first, and he yelled up to me, "Get ready to have a shitty day, babe! Our water heater exploded!" LOL!

Deeky: Fuck.

Liss: Total nightmare. Plumber can't come before Tuesday evening unless he comes today for double the rate, and we were already totally fucking broke even before the heater blew, so Tuesday it is! Disaster. But we decided instead of stressing out about it, we're just going to pretend we're playing pirates and swabbing the deck.

Deeky: LOL! Good idea.

Liss: I just figured out how to hook up a garden hose to a drain spigot on the tank, and we hooked it up and ran the other end out to the backyard, so it's draining out, which has significantly minimized the mopping. Yay!

Deeky: Yay! Yeah, that's the back up, ain't it?

Liss: The back up? I have no idea. I know nothing about plumbing. And neither does Iain. Installing new faucets/garbage disposals and fixing toilet tanks is about the extent of our collective plumbing knowledge, lol. So that's what you're supposed to do, then? Drain it via the back up?

Deeky: Yeah, they've spigots built in. For draining them. There should also be a shut off leading into the tank. So you should be able to shut it down completely.

Liss: The first thing we did was shut off the input valve.

Deeky: Good. If it's shut off and draining via a hose, you'll be okay.

Liss: Thank you for your reassurance. I really appreciate it!

Deeky: You may want to shut off the gas to it, too.

Liss: Iain already shut off the gas to it. He says thanks for the suggestion, though.

Deeky: Cool. You'll be fine then. Except if you want a warm shower.

Liss: Fuck warm showers! We're pirates!

Deeky: So, you're not showering at all? Gonna stink like scurvy and mites?

Liss: We can shower at ye olde parental manor, matey. Arr.

Deeky: Is Iain gonna go there every morning before work?

Liss: Probably at night, lol. And it's just 'til Tues.

Deeky: What? He's gonna go to work with bedhead?

Liss: His hair is curly. Looks the same either way. :)

Deeky: LOL!

Liss: Actually, he just got it all sheared off, so it's virtually a buzz cut at the moment. Mad corporate locks, yo!

Deeky: He's straight outta Mad Men.

Liss: He's straight outta Dilbert. [Liss shares this exchange with Iain and he LOLs.]

Deeky: LOL! He's straight outta Wall Street 2: The Wall Streetening.

Liss: LOL 4 realz. Wall Street 2: The Economy Fuckening.

Deeky: LOL! Totes.

Liss: [phone rings once] Did you just butt-call me?

Deeky: Apparently.

Liss: Cute. I like how the only time we actually call each other is by accident. AHHHHHH! No talking! Texting only! LOL.

Deeky: Talking on the phone is soooo last century.

Liss: Really. And you don't see pirates talking on the phone, now, do you?

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Today's Edition of "Conniving and Sinister"



Blank

See Deeky's archive of all previous Conniving & Sinister strips here.

[In which Liss reimagines the long-running comic "Frank & Ernest," about two old straight white guys "telling it like it is," as a fat feminist white woman (Liss) and a biracial queerbait (Deeky) telling it like it actually is from their perspectives. Hilarity ensues.]

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This is so the worst thing you're going to read all day.

[Trigger warning for sexual coercion.]

The Frisky: 22 Things You Should Forgive Your Boyfriend For.

Generally, I just find compilations like this so banal that they hardly merit comment. Which is not to say they're benign: Even the opening salvo, "Forgetting to put the toilet seat down," disappears the many disabled women for whom a partner routinely forgetting to put the seat down is more than a minor inconvenience.

But this list, in addition to the usual curious exhortations to women to overlook some habits that may well indicate a potentially troublesome lack of respect, includes, in its final line, this:

22. Repeatedly trying to talk you into anal
Wow.

Yeah, um, bullying a partner to try to get hir to submit to a sexual act in which zie isn't interested isn't actually forgivable. (Or it shouldn't be.) It's a huge red flag that you're dealing with someone who doesn't have much interest in the concept of enthusiastic consent.

And when that red flag's a-wavin', walk the other way.

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Quote of the Day

"We will see if there is any legal action that we might take to restrain you from playing [our recording]. However, it would be more respectful of our wishes if you [would] simply cease to play it."—Peter Yarrow and Noel Paul Stookey, the two surviving members of the trio who performed as Peter, Paul & Mary, in a letter addressed to the anti-equality group National Organization for Marriage, asking them to stop using their recording of Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land" during their rallies, since NOM's bigotry is "directly contrary to the advocacy position Peter, Paul & Mary have held for decades. ... We strongly support the rights of all gays and lesbians to enjoy the rights and rituals of marriage that are enjoyed by their straight counterparts, and consider the abridgment of this right contrary to the sense of equal protection and fairness inherent in, and implied by, the law, of the Constitution of the United States."


[H/T to Spudsy. Via.]

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Police State Newz

At some point I may have mentioned that while my family was riding the train between Chicago and New York last December, we were rudely awakened by armed government agents on the hunt for foreign looking people that may have boarded at South Bend, Toledo, Cleveland, Erie, or any number of totally not Canadian stations. They really didn't pay us much mind. Mostly they were interested in the folks seated in front of us speaking a foreign language (Russian, FWIW). That and yelling at the deaf woman in the next row.

Our general reaction (and AFAICT, the reaction of the folks immediately around us) ranged from extreme anger to OMGWTF?!? It was horrible, and as a US citizen, I have to say, horribly embarrassing.

Why was this happening? The US couldn't possibly have a policy of letting armed border patrol agents board trains and buses within our own national borders in an effort to harass and possibly detain foreign-looking folks.

According to today's New York Times, that was precisely what was (and still is) happening. To quote Lee Greenwood: "I'm American...I forget...that...I'm free."

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Neat!

[Trigger warning for violence/sexual assault.]

Insert requisite disclaimer here about how Saturday Night Live sucks, except for the times when it hasn't sucked.

I might not have even mentioned that New York's Vulture has a blurb on SNL's three new cast members, except for the video Portly posted by Jenny Slate, a current cast member of SNL whose evident talent is currently being brutally wasted.

Anyway, of the three new cast members (who, btw, all appear to be white), only one apparently has video of his skit-work available for review, and these are the descriptions of the two videos: "Here's [Taran] Killam as murderer Scott Peterson in a kinda not-funny Knocked Up parody" and "Here's Killam again in a Scrubs webisode, as Jimmy, a molest-y orderly."

Yeesh.

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This is a real thing in the world

[Trigger warning for "ironic" "joking" about dehumanization and violence]

Perfect for when you want everyone to know you're an asshole, but your girlfriend hasn't washed your Toby Keith shirt:


[Picture of a t-shirt that reads "SLAVERY GETS SHIT DONE." Don't worry, though, the text is under a picture of pyramids. Oh, and the person wearing it is black.]


I can verify that this is real. I saw some dude wearing one this weekend when I was out buying jalapeño poppers to soothe my post-Restoring Honor hangover.

Also, Deeky points out that these ironic but-totally-not-ironic assholes also have a Facebook group, for those of you into web 2.0. The page proclaims "if u don't like it i on't care", which un-ironically, is pretty much how slavery works.

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Daily Dose of Cute

A Day in the Life of Dudley Q. McEwan, Professional Chillaxer


[Warning: The below photo essay is redonkulously adorable, but also contains dog dong, so if your particular sensitivities include an aversion to evidence of male doghood, I recommend against clicking below the fold. His mouth tends to hang open when he naps, too, so there are also some viewable dog teeth in a not-grinning expression.]
































Image Descriptions: Dudz the Greyhound sprawled out in various hilarious poses, with long legs all akimbo, except for the final image, in which he is curled up in a tight little ball inside the cat bed. This would be why greyhounds are known as the 45-mile-per-hour couch potatoes. Aside from one big burst of energy each day, Dudley is the laziest being on the planet, who requires about five minutes of yawning and stretching just to wake himself up to go out for a walk.

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News from Shakes Manor

Last night, as we were lying in bed about to fall asleep, Iain was, as is his frequent bedtime habit, touching different parts of my body and asking me: "What is this for?" to which I am meant to provide a silly answer, e.g. "The conveyance of cuteness." Sometimes, I provide extremely literal answers, which are amusing in their own way.

Iain, taking my thigh in his hand: What is this for?

Me: Locomoting.

Iain, deliberately misunderstanding me: Vocomoting? Is a vocomotive a train that talks?

Me: No, it's a train that's been put through a vocoder.

Pause.

Both of us, simultaneously, in our best attempts at replicating a vocoded voice: CH-oo-OO CH-oo-OO!

Laughter.

There are moments in any intimate partnership in which the two of you look at one another and realize, "This is why we belong together." That was one of those moments.

We are dorks.

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Monday Blogaround

This blogaround brought to you by Shaxco, publishers of Dudley Q. McEwan's Guide to Chillaxing.

Recommended Reading:

brilliantmindbrokenbody: Disability Blog Carnival!

Brad: Bring Your Genes to Your Life Insurance Sales Representative

BeckySharper: Hair Matters

Renee: On "Louie" [TW for sexual violence]

Living ~400lbs: Deciphering Studies: Absolute vs Relative Risks

Andy: Focus on the Family Says School Anti-Bullying Curriculum Forces Kids to Learn That Homosexuality Is Normal

Leave your links in comments...

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Random Video

I watched this about 10,000 times this weekend.

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.


Transcript below the fold.

Transcript:

Stop-Motion Animation -- A very tiny shell with one googly eye in the shell opening and wearing tiny pink shoes shuffles to the edge of a sofa back (various scene backgrounds follow, such as a kitchen table littered with leaves and small plates, a tennis shoe that looms over, a bathroom with a hairbrush on the floor, etc.)

Marcel: My name is Marshell -- oh no! -- that's not the first time I've done that. My name is Marcel and I'm partially a shell, as you can see on my body . . . but . . . I also have shoes, and um, a face . . . so, I like that about myself and I like myself and I have a lot of other great qualities as well.

[title] Marcel the Shell with shoes on [/title]

Marcel: I know how it looks in here but it's not always so messy, but I didn't know that you were gonna have a camera and I wish that you had said that you were gonna be here today, because I didn't -- I didn't clean up (exasperated sigh). I invited some friends from up state to come and eat salad, so, that's -- I'm sorr . . . well, that's just how it looks right now.

Guess what I wear as a hat.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: A lentil!

One time I nibbled on a piece of cheese and my cholesterol went up to 900. Guess what I use to tie my skis to my car.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: A hair. Guess what my skis are.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: Toenails from a man. Um -- Do you wanna see me talk on the phone?

Camera-person: Sure.

Marcel: (standing on phone) Hello! This is me. What? Yeah. Yeah, I did. Oh yeah. Well, I could do it at -- yes? Wuh -- it would be my pleasure. Uh. . . I did, I did. Yeah, I'm sorry, I forgot to write a note. Thank you so much.

Guess what I use for a bean-bag chair.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: A raisin. Guess what I do for adventure.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: I hang-glide on a dorito. Guess what I use as a pen.

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: I use . . uh . . a pen, but it takes the whole family.

I'm afraid to drink soda, because I'm afraid the bubbles will make me float up onto the ceiling.

OK . . . eh, uh . . . my one regret in life is that I'll never have a dog.

But sometimes I tie a hair to a piece of lint and I drag it around.

[Marcel dragging lint] I love you, come on boy, come, come.

One time I smelled a smell from an old tennis sneaker, and it knocked me right out.

One time I looked at a diamond, and it gave me a sunburn.

[standing next to the lint-dog] His name is Allen. Guess where I found him.

Camera-person: Where?

Marcel: Under a tooth. Well, you know what they say . . .

Camera-person: What?

Marcel: Lint is a shell's best friend.

[next to crayons] You wanna watch me try to lift this?

Camera-person: Sure.

Marcel: Alright. [tries to lift crayon -- grunting and groaning] No, I can't, I can't. I can't lift anything up at all.

[in front of toilet] Sometimes people say that my head is too big for my body, and then I say -- compared to WHAT?!

[in front of hairbrush] My brother once got in a fight with someone else, and guess how he killed him . . .

Camera-person: How?

Marcel: He impaled him on a brush.

Camera-person: That sounds very violent . . .

Marcel: We won't fight unless we're provoked.

[dragging lint] Here! Come here! Come here . . .(grunting, tugging) Come heeere! I love you, come . . . . agh!!!

[credits]

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Two Minute Nostalgia Sublime



Scissor Sisters: "Any Which Way"

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