Sweet, sweet swag

It pays to worship Whiskeymarie from afar.

I've been a huge fan (blog stalker) of Whiskeymarie ever since my friend Sean in NOLA hipped me to her. She's been my not so secret blog crush and female comedy idol from the first post of hers that I read. I make sure to bow down and tell her how cool, funny, and hot she is as much as I can and once again it's paid off in the form of swag. Sure, she's sent me postcards, monkey figurines, and the odd disease coated envelope or two before but this latest swag package tops all of her previous efforts.

Check it out you unworthy blog minions:

Stop tittering god damn it, there are famous places in Minneapolis. This is a loose-leaf cookbook from the mid 1950's. It's chock full of crazy old mid century recipes and logos from restaurants in Minneapolis. No pictures but plenty of other atomic age cooking nonsense.

This fancy brochure is full of photos of different cuts of meat and illustrations of smiling butchers and meat workers. It's ghastly good on so many levels. I can't wait to share it with you all.

This bad boy was too big for my scanner. It's spilling over with photos of unappetizing atomic age food that white people just loved. It's also over run with recipes and way cool vintage style food illustrations.

Thanks again Whiskeymarie for your largess. I'm in your debt and I remain your humble servant. Mwah!

Here's the 'How to' manual for aspiring 'crazy cat ladies'

Whiskeymarie, take note.

There's no swag like monkey swag

My gal of the north country Whiskeymarie sent me this bit o' swag:
That's right, it says, "Dr. Monkey, MD" on it. Since I'm not one of those geeks who leave stuff in the original package in the hopes that it will go up in value, I took my new little guy out and let him roam a bit.
First, he jumped up on the tea shelf in the kitchen.
Then he jumped down into a bowl of chili peppers. He got really really hot in there so next he jumped into the fridge:
After cooling down he felt like he needed to be around some of his own kind so he ran into the living room and he started a conversation with this day of the dead monkey that my friend Keith got me.
The good doctor could not bridge the language barrier though, he's vowed to learn Spanish later as a result of this brief meeting. But finally he found a troop of monkeys he could hang with:
He says he feels right at home now.

Thanks for sending him to me Whiskeymarie, you rock!

You are too kind

Gilligan, the mastermind behind the too cool for school blog Retrospace, recently gave me the above award. Getting it from him was an unexpected honor that leaves me grateful and humbled because it's always nice to get such great peer based recognition. Thanks for giving me the swell award sir.

Now it's my turn to award this to some other worthy bloggers who write damn fine blogs.

• It's long been my contention, ever since I began reading her blog, that Vikkitikkitavi is perhaps the best writer of all the folks who blogs I read regularly. She goes for quality not quantity, which is my way of saying that she doesn't blog as much as someone like me. I think she's a feckin' genius and that her blog is the best ever. I therefore award her one of these 'Great Read' awards.
• CDP, the blogger formerly known as Aunt Dahilia, gets one of these awards as well. She writes about her life, her past, her family, politics, and much more and she does it with grace, style, and wit. Go read this post about her youngest son facing up to his swimming pool related fear and if you don't have a lump in your throat by the time you finish it, then you're not human.
  
• The man I think of as my younger brother, Samurai Frog, gets one of these awards too. Just like blood brothers we don't agree on everything and sometimes we get in a snit with each other but that's cool, because if we all agreed on everything all the time then the world would be pretty boring. He writes a hell of a blog and his Tumblr blogs are great too.
  
• My girl of the north country, Whiskeymarie is hereby awarded this thingy too. Why does she get one you ask? Because does posts where she dresses up in costumes, is funny as hell, cooks good stuff, and because she's only days away from not only being a crazy cat lady, she's almost a crazy dog lady too. I thank my lucky stars that my friend Sean in New Orleans emailed me the link to her blog one day a few years ago.
• Yournamehere, the twisted genius who writes Death Wore a Feathered Mullet, gets the final nod for this award. No one makes me laugh harder and no one makes me think, "Holy shit, why can't I come up with posts like that?" like he does. He's the eviler twin brother that I never knew I had.
  

I've been remiss in thanking the old college buddy Joe who sent me the above award for my blogging. Joe doesn't blog but he does read my blog and he often comments under an assumed name. I appreciate the award Joe and I'm looking forward to hanging out when you get down this way during race week.

Look what the coolest chick in St. Paul sent me

The uber hot Whiskey Marie sent me this incredibly cool old postcard and I got it today! I adore the creepy ethereal baby, it will haunt my tortured dreams during this sacred Halloween season.

Thanks for taking time out of your busy remodeling and cat slave schedule to think of me Ms. Marie!!

The rest of you, with the exceptions of Wisconsin Ed and his lovely wife Suzy the Quaker Vixen and FranSheIs, need to get off your butts and show me some swag love. If you want to that is, it's entirely up to you and it's not like I'll stop writing this shit if you don't send me anything because I'm hooked on this blogging stuff now.

That Whiskey, she's a saint

And she's a great blog bud.  Despite having a surprise house guest show up at her place last week, she found time to send me this cool as the day is long postcard.  Yo girl, thanks for thinking of me!

It must be going around

I guarantee you I won't look this good while it's going on, but one thing is for sure, it is going on. Finally. The "it" I speak of is the home improvement projects we decided to get done in advance of putting our place on the market. The guy who is going to do the minor repairs is busy bringing all his various tools and sundries in and then he'll be off to buy the ceiling and wall paints. So while he's here and working I'll probably be forced to move stuff to get it out of his way. And one of the things I'll be moving at some point is my computer and that means blogging and the reading or your blogs might be a little light this week and part of the next.

And after the repairs and painting come the carpet installation and the new countertop in the kitchen.

So don't think I've left you, I'll just be around a little less for the next few weeks.

Inappropriate crush # 6743

Dottie Ann Partypants

Read Dottie's story here.

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Dottie reminds me of a woman I knew when I was a young boy of about 11. Her name was Ardyce, it's pronounced Ar-duss, and she was an aged friend of Aunt Rageholic. I'll always have a soft spot for Ardyce because one day when I missed the school bus home because I ran to the store after the last bell rang so I could buy some forbidden candy she gave me a ride home. We lived out in the country about 15 or so miles from town, in those days town was Howell, Michigan. I did know what I was going to do and I knew I was going to get a whipping for missing the bus, then it hit me, Ardyce! So I walked to her apartment in Howell and I knocked on her door. It took her a minute to remember who I was and as soon as she did I went into my best scared little kid routine and I whimpered that I needed a ride home.

She quickly succumbed to my evil plans. She smiled, patted me on the head, and got her purse and her driving glasses and off we went to her car, which I believe was a Ford Falcon. She drove along at a blistering 35 miles an hour and she kept telling what a good boy I was all the way back to the farm. When we finally got there she pulled out a couple of quarters from her huge black vinyl purse and gave them to me for being so nice and respectful. I jumped out of her car and I took in a lung full of fresh air, Ardyce was one of those old ladies who stank of moth balls and coffee. I thanked her for the lift and for the money and I ran off to do my homework before Aunt Rageholic could get mad at me.

Thanks again Ardyce, where ever you are, thanks again for the ride and the loot. I spent that money on baseball cards the next day.