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Archive for September, 2010

I was hoping for something sillier, but I do love a good old time newsreel.

http://www.archive.org/flow/flowplayer.commercial-3.2.1.swf

This site is quite possibly the best place one could waste the rest of one’s life on the Internet.

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Because the world is unfair and stupid.

Enjoy your racist replacement show tonight, America.

http://www.youtube.com/v/bckwDg8s-IA?fs=1&hl=en_US

“What did we learn, kids?
If you’re trying to hide a sharp object inside candy, use a small blade.
Or poison! Poison’s invisible.”

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I will never open and operate a small business of my very own, I’ve accepted that, come to terms with it. However, if I knew how to apply for a small business loan, was automatically approved for one and told to open a small business immediately (in what I can only imagine, is Mitt Romney’s America) I have one great business idea.

Last winter I was at the mall watching one of my toddler nephews crawl over a large plastic turtle. While he frolicked with the gentle giant, I looked past the play place at a store which had replaced a K*B Toys. It was called Little Diva. At first, I only saw its exterior and I assumed it was simply a store where discerning parents could purchase enough tiaras and feathers and glitter to live vicariously through their daughters in whatever terrible pageant the mall was putting on. I was cynical and I was naive not to think these parents weren’t buying the glitter and feathers for themselves. Adults are weird.

A web search for the Little Diva store explained that it more like a Chuck-E-Cheese meets Toddler and Tiaras birthday party place. For what looks like $260 on their website, you can dress your child and four friends in all the tiaras, headsets, rockin’ gloves and Go Go hats, they’ll need for their next mall tour. Now, I’m not telling parents how to dress their children or where they should celebrate birthdays. I rarely encounter children and it’s not for me to say what anyone wears. I had my ninth birthday party at McDonald’s. I threw up in a trash can. There was a train you could eat in. I loved it.

I’m not trying to put Little Diva out of business (but it would be kind of nice). I just want there to be an option for a party place for young girls that isn’t all sparkles and divas and Glee. If I do have nieces, I want them to receive the same Jr. Scientist kits I will eventually give my nephews once a non lame version is invented. So, that’s why I have an idea for a new party place for young girls (and boys) which will give them positive role models and teach them about foreign diplomacy.

It’s called

Little Secretary of State

At Little Secretary of State every birthday girl and her friends can

  • Learn to make pasta and write Declarations with Thomas Jefferson.
  • Model Hillary Clinton pantsuits and try on Madeleine Albright inspired costume jewelry. If this seems sexist to define these women by their fashion choices alone, ruining the whole idea behind this project, they can also dress up like John Jay.
  • Model the facial hair of Charles Evan Hughes, John Foster and John Hay.
  • Become a war criminal and marvel others with your ability of still being alive like Henry Kissinger.
  • Learn about a history of foreign affairs through animatronic Cyrus Vance. The things he’ll say about Carter alone guarantee half hours of fun.
  • Be terrified of John C. Calhoun.
Little Secretary of State will provide hours of entertainment and plenty of good learnin times for the whole family. It will offer competitive prices (competitive with all other Little Presidential Cabinet Members party places) and inspire young girls everywhere to start acting and dressing like Hillary Clinton, so that my Hillary Clinton inspired clothing line can finally take off.

If that’s not working for any loan officers, I also have an idea for a movie about the founding fathers played by dogs, that will be called The Founding Barkers.

I think it’s clear now I’m not sure how bank loans work.

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It seems like Halloween is celebrated earlier and earlier every year.

I admire crafty people like M. Diddy, Amy Sedaris, and my sisters. I think their work is cute or terrifying or terrifyingly cute and all best viewed online. I would never sell something on Etsy, because I don’t think anyone would buy my half finished cross stitch or my old 5 iron with a smiley face drawn on it (Like I would ever sell that).

If I ever bought anything on Etsy, it would be something that captured the wit and whimsy of my pals Wilhelm and Randolph up there. Care to guess which one is which? A little hint, I just spent three minutes trying to figure out a better way to spell Randorange.

I am not crafty. I will never be as crafty as my sisters. One of my sisters makes handcrafted thank you notes. The only thing I do with my store bought thank you notes is write really large words because I think  it makes my handwriting look better. They can sew. I can burn myself with hot glue guns. The last time I used a hot glue gun, in the service of a political campaign, I burned my fingers twice. But it was worth it, because how often does one get to be melodramatic over minor injuries while in a Democratic campaign headquarters? Other than some of the time.

In the largest creative gap between two of my sisters and I, they have created four amazing tiny human beings. To my credit, I have never burned any of them with a hot glue gun. I did put one of them in a side loading washing machine (IT WAS OFF) for what we all later agreed was a hilarious photo op. Putting Babies Where Babies Do Not Belong is a concept that is always funny. This is why Anne Geddes sleeps on bags of money. Does this make me a bad aunt? No, a bad aunt would have burned her nephews with hot glue guns. Case closed.

So when it comes to crafts, I avoid any that come with complicated instructions and more than two essential items. It’s just me, the least popular candidate from my fridge, a couple of Kleenex and a giant Sharpie with its toxic fumes. Throw them all together, add some artistic flair and my Halloween decorations are done, a month ahead of schedule. It’s a good thing.

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