Of Moles and Men

Hey! How's it going, everyone! Long time, no write, right? Happy Independence Day! Lots of excitement around here; yessirree, LOTS. TONS! MORE THAN ENOUGH, THANKS!

First, Lloyd had an... errr, episode with a remote controlled flying machine, resulting in a Fourth of July celebration in the ER followed by reconstructive surgery. If you're here from the FAA, it was totally not his fault, and not reportable, just so you know. Also, he has never busted a check ride, or put a scratch on airplane. And as long as we're clear on that, we can go on to the leg trap incident, in which contrary to popular belief, I am not to blame, not even the tiniest bit. Apparently, these giant rusty devices (see photos with a shoe and my dad's head for scale) are actually mole traps of some repute. Personally I think moles are kind of cute, especially those pink naked ones at the zoo, but the people who own our garage apartment have a serious vendetta against them and plastered these medieval mole torturing contraptions all over the yard. Unfortunately, they were deployed incorrectly and failed in their mission, unless their mission was actually to snare a small child. In that case, they succeeded admirably. After which they were smashed with cinder blocks and thrown over the fence. The traps, not the small child. Grateful moles can send wine. Soon would be best, and plenty of it! Otherwise, I can't guarantee protection in the future.

Anyway, the small child was fine, because the trap closed over the side of his foot where his extra large plastic yellow shoes had some excess sweatshop material. The shoe was clamped on, leaving a tiny indentation in the foot, though from the screaming you would have thought the whole thing was ripped clean off, leaving a bloody spurting stump.

And on a totally unrelated and way more cheerful note, I've been thinking again. This new idea will finally net me that Nobel prize I've been unsuccessfully angling for for so long, I'm sure of it! Check this out: Vaccuum cleaner bags for charity! Think about it, you send your full vaccuum bag to a family in a third world country. It saves space in the landfill and supplies their every need for a week or more! Popcorn, Cheerios and cheese shreds to eat, toys, dog hair to knit into clothes, fingernail clippings and sticks to fashion into tools to generate income, and when the bag is empty, they can use it to carry their baby around in, or for a home for Grandma. Then the week is over, and you send them another one! The best ideas are the simplest ones, I always say. They pay the Nobel prize in wine now, right?

There is such a thing as a free lunch

Wow, you guys. I had the freakiest nightmare. You will totally pee your pants when you hear this. I dreamt that I drank the Kool-Aid and fell for the old 'Government and Corporate America is looking out for you' trick and gave away all my best ideas to them. For FREE! I mean, how crazy is that? I don't even want to talk about it anymore; it gives me the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it. If I didn't know better I'd think they might have planted a chip in my head while I was sleeping or something. I do know better, though, because to find me they would have to scan my ID and I'm too smart to fall for THAT scam. Hold on, I have to adjust my tinfoil hat; the mind control rays are coming closer.



Okay, that's better. I hope your shield is on good; the enemy is strong today. Anyway, my sister and I were out with the kids the other day, and we went to the gym at local community center. It was getting on to lunchtime and we were just about to go fill them up with organic tofu, quinoa and broccoli nuggets and fries, when we were informed by the community center staff that they were serving free lunch! SCORE! At first we thought it was some kind of special day, but no! They do it every weekday from 12-1, AND they serve breakfast from 8-9.



The lunches were weird, no doubt about it. They came in a plastic shell, like a Lunchables box, or what I've heard Lunchables boxes might look like from someone who once bought one. You know, with little compartments and a sheet of cellophane sealed over the top. They had milk AND juice, and there were several different meals, handed out randomly. One of ours had breaded chicken balls, shaped like little drumlets, a brown roll and a pack of gummy candy. And by chicken balls, I mean round pieces of chicken, not rooster testicles, in case you were wondering. The other ones had stips of breaded chicken over a salad of lettuce, pod peas and shredded cheese along with crackers, and someone at a table next to ours had a wrap of some sort and strawberries. Oh, and each one had a strange metal colored little wafer, about the size of a rice grain, right on top. They weren't half bad, but everything was cold, and the kids didn't care for it except for the gummies and the crackers. Weston even stated fairly loudly for the record, and for the staff and the other lunchers, that 'The food here isn't very good.' The whole thing was quite puzzling, until we found out that these were Government funded meals, and they have them all summer, when school isn't in session. So I guess that's good, right? It's win-win. We get free food and the grocery outlets and animal hospitals get rid of their leftovers. We're definitely going to breakfast next time.

Huh, that's weird. I'm feeling this irresistible urge to drink some high fructose corn syrup sprinkled with MSG in a clear plastic cup and watch some network tv, then head to the mall. I'm going to need a new hat for sure. Damn you, Government wafers!

Genius, Free to Good Home

Corporate America, never bothered by grinding the downtrodden consumer deeper into the ground, or hosing over an innovator slaving away in the trenches, has done it again. Check out Pampers' latest offering: Designer Disposable Diapers. You may recall that just the other day I introduced my own DeadCatLine, which features disposables in a variety of high fashion styles. Can you believe this blatant thievery? Seriously, they didn't even try to be sneaky. Next thing you know turban helmets will be flying off the shelves at Wal-Mart and every prego in town will be wearing a DCL rip-off and they'll all be thinking how great those big box chain 'designers' are while true brilliance goes unrewarded, once again.

If you've been reading here for a while, or if you used to read Stories from Korea, you may also recall my frequent objections to many of the most disgusting practices of big business and the assistance they get from our government and legal system, or as they call it, 'business as usual'. But no more. This latest affront to my intellectual property rights has pushed me over the edge. You win, soul-sucking bastards. I hope you're happy, Supreme Court: I get it. Corporations ARE more important than people. Okay, elected representatives: It's not just okay for the laws of the land to be written by hacks funded by the very industries that require oversight; it's BETTER! Enjoy the swag! You deserve it! Thanks for doing such a great job. I don't know what I was thinking before.

I've been assimilated; what's good for the Board of Directors and the House of Representatives IS good for America! AND for the rest of the world, hallelujah! So with that in mind, I offer up all my best products and schemes , free to a good corporate home. This includes such gems as the ninja flight attendant airline commercial, the mini-beers, the fully automatic funnelator, the fully completed childrens' story/screenplay set in the near future about how the Canadians have bombed the US to smithereens, my various housekeeping breakthroughs, and my newest brainstorm: Coke with the Excedrin already in it. This one would work for Pepsi, Gatorade and coffee, too. Surefire winners, every one of them. Gold mines, I tell you. Well, except for maybe the story with those dastardly neighbors to the north. It might be a little too apocalyptic for the grade school set. It does have a stellar vomiting scene, though- it would light up the big screen. Where are you now, Disney? Dreamworks? Probably busy setting up some more of those nifty product placement deals, all for the greater good.

Take heed, food giants, pharmaceutical barons,entertainment behemoths and HFCS peddlers to us unwashed masses! It's all there for the taking. If you would do just one thing, though. Maybe you could throw a few extra bucks to those lobbyists of ya'alls to clear up that pesky labeling issue. We consumers don't need to know all that complicated chemical stuff about what's in all that stuff you make. We know you're just looking out for our best interests. Thanks, you're the best. But you knew that. And so do I.

DCL Update, and a Totally Irrelevant Aside

So, apparently, not all of you have seen these hideous new Huggies. If you REALLY want to, you can see the commercial here, or just read about them here. But don't say I didn't warn you!

And, just in case you didn't believe me about the clothies, you can look here to see just a small selection of the diaper fashion that's readily available.

I know you're really just waiting for the irrelevant aside, so here goes: C Mike's comment about the straw in the bra idea not being all that original reminded me of the first time I went to one of those dumb flying squadron parties where you're supposed to dress up in a flight suit. The unadorned, standard Air Force flight suit can be seen here, if you are unfamiliar with them. Having never been to one of these soirees before, I didn't realize the idea was to create some slu.tty get-up out of the flight suit. Instead, I racked my brain to come up with a clever 'pilot' costume, and the only thing I could think of was a pilot whale. I stuffed pillows down the suit and put an aluminum funnel on my head with a silver stocking over it. For a spout, you know. Then I put a ziploc bag filled with water in the side pocket and ran some tubing up the inside of the stocking and up the funnel. I kept my hand in my pocket and squeezed the bag to squirt water up the tube and out the spout. It was a neat party trick and everyone liked it. Then it was time for the judging and I squeezed the bag too hard and it broke in the pocket and the spout didn't work and everyone just thought I was a weird girl in a fat flight suit that wet her pants and some tan little twinkie in a revealing Hello Kitty themed flightsuit won. After that I put beer in the bag and rerouted the tubing to my mouth. I hate Hello Kitty.

Introducing the DCL

You know how I've been all dull and uninspired because my life is a living hell lately? Well, no more, my friends! I have found my muse, and it is.... ugly diapers! You guys have all seen those ridiculous disposable diapers that are supposed to look like daisy dukes, right? I was at a birthday party yesterday and got to talking about them with some brilliant friends, and we thought, why stop there? Where are the khakis? The floral capris? I know what you're thinking: JUST USE CLOTH DIAPERS, MORONS! But the sad truth is that clothies aren't for everyone. At least until all those nasty chemicals they put in disposables melt the machinery in the factories, but that will probably take YEARS.



So in the meantime, I present to you the Dead Cat Line, DCL for short. The logo will be a line drawn silhouette of a smushed cat; I'm still working the bugs out. Disposable diaper-included fashions for babies and toddlers for all occasions! Wedding finery, loungewear, athletic apparel, you name it! DCL will have it all.



And DCL is not just for babies! I've noticed a few other fashion needs around here. For just one example, we have a lot of people from India and Pakistan here and I often see large and elaborate turbans on men. The other day, I saw a turbaned guy on a bike, without a helmet and I thought, someone should make a bike helmet that looks like a turban! Well, turbaned biker, you no longer have to sacrifice safety for cultural expression; DCL is here to help you out!



The possibilities are endless! Know how when you're gigantically pregnant and you're dying for a drink but you can't have one because everyone will glare at you like you're viciously beating an adorable kitten in the street? How about a maternity dress with a discreet chest pocket with a sturdy waterproff pouch and straw system for your beer, wine, diet coke or red bull? DCL can even custom make a thermal pocket so you can drink coffee to your heart's content without suffering from society's disapproval! See what I mean? DCL is a surefire hit! Contact me at womanwithadeadcat@gmail.com to contribute your own ideas and/or start up capital! No amount too large or too small; contact me today!

Wanker List

Is 'wanker' my favorite word? One of my friends was speculating. I think it was sort of an insult, but what can you do, right? I can only say maybe, but only because it has to be. If there weren't so many dang wankers out there, my favorite word would be 'flowing rivers of cab with chocolate trees on the bank', now wouldn't it? That would be way better, believe you me. Do you think I LIKE having to call things 'wanker' all day? I DON'T. But some things just can't be helped, so here's my wanker list for today:

Edwards Air Force Base
State of Missouri
State of Louisiana (a perennial list-topper)
Target

I never thought Missouri would make the list, but there you have it. It has a lot going for it, what with that cool arch, and tons of my awesome friends live there, so it's pretty much a downer to have to put it on the list. And what of Target, you ask? How could our good old pal Target make the list? That red -spotted mecca I dreamed of from Osan while desperately searching the BX for some out of stock sundry? Surely I must have had too much wine, you say? Well, maybe, but no thanks to you, Target wanker! This afternoon I went in there to load up for a pizza party with the family, and carefully chose two bottles of Target's finest. My brother-in-law laughed himself silly when he heard I was trying to buy wine at Target, but they actually have a pretty nice selection.

When I went to the register, I was carded. And let me just say I have reached the legal drinking age. In fact, before too long I will have reached it twice. For identification, I presented my 'retired' status military ID card, which will not scan on their machines. I do this on purpose, because I am opposed to this ubiquitious scanning scam on privacy grounds. Today they want to scan your driver's license for personal information to be stored in their marketing database; tomorrow they're going to install a shunt in your spine so they can just start sucking you dry without even bothering with your debit card. You heard it here first. Didn't you guys ever see Tank Girl? We should all be very afraid. And I don't know why it only has 4.7 stars because it is the MOST FANTASTIC MOVIE EVER. Wankers.

Anyway, I was informed that because my ID wouldn't scan they require two clerks to verify my birth date. I waited patiently while the cashier called for assistance. I was quiet while she flipped her flashing light on. My tolerance started to wane, though, when she walked over to the customer service desk searching for an appropriate staff member to look at my birth date. I guess not all of them are qualifed to calculate my age because she passed about ten of those red shirt and khaki pant clad jokers. But when she asked me to wait while she rang up the person behind me, I couldn't stand it anymore and told her she could keep the wine. She probably needs it more than me anyway, especially when they come after her with the spine shunt. They always start with the employees. Take heed, people: this kind of thing NEVER happens at the thrift store.

Things that annoy me

You know what annoys me? When people put up long detailed rants about what annoys them on their blogs: BORING. The only thing more dreary is listening to someone else's long detailed description of a dream. My dreams, of course, are another story entirely. I just had a really fascinating one about my sister's purse, for example. It must have been defective, though, because there was no dead cat in there.

But I find myself in a decidedly cross sort of place right now, what with not knowing what we're going to be doing about, ummm, anything, and I find myself VERY crochety with a sudden urge to catalog my vexations. And since this is my blog and I can bore you if I want to, here are two from today:

1. The local school district. You may know that I have no intention of sending my kids to school. I have always thought that I am more than capable of screwing them up adequately without any government interference, and so I intend to do exactly that. But my sister doesn't have as much confidence in herself and plans to send one of her kids to kindergarten this fall. So, fine. Except that the school district offers only all day kindergarten at their local elementary, but only has the budget for half-day classes. Their solution to this problem is to CHARGE TUITION to the tune of hundreds of dollars per month. HELLO! How can they even do that?!?!?!?

2. Department of Revenue, State of Louisiana. I am not a fan of Louisiana. This is probably not much of a secret. Every year I have to fill out a Louisiana tax return because unfortunately, we still have a house there and have some paltry rental income with a Louisiana source. You might not know that because Louisiana, unlike the rest of the country, has a bunch of weird laws based on the Napoleanic Code, rendering tax software or other do-it-yourself legal software impossible to use there. As a result I have to fill out there stupid six page form by hand and then re-copy it so it's neat. What am I? In third grade? Or in 1976? Anyway, I got a letter from those clowns that says I miscalculated and that they have corrected our return and surprise! I owe them more money. Their new calculations reduced our net Louisiana income by one dollar. Somehow, in Cajunomics, this translates to an increased tax in the amount of eight dollars. HELLO! How can they even do that?!?!?!?

Wankers! They are all wankers! But now I feel a little better, so ta-ta for now.