m is for the many things....

Say firmly:
"We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

excerpt from "the mother's day proclaimation" by julia ward howe

far out.

"zilch".

wandering through youtube.

i lose myself there sometimes. and that's when i make wonderful discoveries.

i love the beatles. and i love a good cover (industry jargon for an original work performed by a different artist). my all-time favorite beatles song is "hide your love away". it's one of the first songs i learned to play on the guitar. so imagine my delight when i discovered this gem by british folksters, the silkie. the silkie where managed by brian epstein, and john, paul and george lent there efforts in the production of this number. i'd always wondered why the beatles had neglected to add any vocal harmonies to the song, and now i know why: they'd left them in the capable hands of the silkie.

and so, without further ado....

oh, fer crying out loud.

i've seen these "tag" thingies on the 'nets and i've always thought i was immune, but pretty shaved ape managed to slip me a dose, despite all the precautions. i'll go ahead and start with....

number one: i'm a stick in the mud. the folks at "the hot tub" can testify to this.

number two: i make "number two" jokes more often than i make number two.

number three: a few years back, during an extended leave from work, i devised a nifty pendulum clock entirely out of lego elements.

number four: in case number three didn't give you a clue, i'm an afol.

number five: i'm the fifth of six. i've got two - count 'em, TWO - generations between me and my folks. dad was agnostic, mom's a roman catholic. irish roman catholic.

and so were we raised.

mom's a feisty octogenarian, dad passed twenty years ago. cancer. everywhere. he was memorialized by the cal state assembly and canonized by the six children on whom he had so demonstratively doted.

number six: i play an ernie ball stingray four-string bass, which is waaaay more axe than i'll ever be able to use.

that was painless. now, upon whom shall i wipe this boogar? ah!

twatrick rosshole
rachel marsden (although i don't think there are six things about her we don't already know)
nambla (sorry, richard evans; no link provided)
gene ray
canadian cynic (i can use the seven-fifty)
google

hey, flying monkeys?

how do you like them apples?!

masks off! a prank's not complete until you've come clean. kate was good enough to do so in her knee-slappingly funny prank on kinsella, so i'll do the same. i slipped kate a mickey in the form of an acrostic. juvenile, i know, but at least no jews had to die for the punchline to work....

oh, what the hell.

scratch a cynic, find a romantic.

sitemeter urges me bid welcome....

....to the flying monkeys.

update: seems quite a few of the flying monkeys are interested in the kevronambla link in my sidebar. it's always straight to the gutter with you guys, eh? lol!