the new kitten we now have since last night after a couple of friends and I kidnapped it from a guy who was trying to sell it for beer money. I am shooting for the names Doris or Lloyd, because the Palinode's suggestion of Beef Texan just doesn't fly with me.
hot coffee with hazelnut flavoured cream.
turquoise Post-its.
remembering that orange grove in California that we stopped at when I was eight and the tiny, orange kitten that tried to come away with us in our station wagon.
the following horrible slang term for women's breasts: sweater meat.
Maidenform brassieres.
watching gophers stuff their faces with tufts of grass with which to make their underground nests.
how the strong smell of Compound W makes my apartment smell temporarily like a factory. Vive le prolétariat!
the kind of wind that flattens the treetops but does not touch the ground.
rootbeer popsicles.
the Palinode's voice over the telephone. He used to do voiceover narration when his ex-employer needed a Distinguished Older Gentleman voice.
the world greening in spring.
the heater under my desk that is presently keeping my ankles toasty.
chickens, which I dreamt were made of pressed spinach last night.
dirigibles.
vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain.
bunching up fresh grass between the line of my toes and the ball of my foot.
the smells that yellow makes me recall even if I am not that fond of the colour itself.
people who are kind to others whom they do not know.
water over stones in shallow brooks.
photographs in which not all of the people are completely within frame.
the sounds that our cats made this morning which made me think we had cougars.
junk. Piles of junk spark my creativity like nothing else. Give me dusty piles of forgotten things in people's attics, garbage dumps, or charitable second-hand stores, and I feel like hugging the whole mess to my chest as though they are my lost children.
watching big, fat worms work their way into the dirt.
"Sweater meat" nearly made me spit out my root beer! While I'm on this subject, where do you get root beer popsicles?! Jules http://bigpikchur.blogspot.com" REL="nofollow">House of Jules
Also: another cat? You are now about half a cat away from being a crazy cat lady. And The Palinode is veering dangerously into That Guy With All The Cats territory.
I want to take you to my mother's house. You would love her junk and she needs someone to enjoy and appreciate her relationship with her HUGE PILES of junk.
My paternal grandparents were named Doris and Lloyd. O.O That's a crazy coincidence.... Could I recommend the name Fritz, since that was their last name?
Never heard of sweater meat! I totally love wind at the tops of trees- it's like magic. I just like you Schmutzie- I'm really enjoying your blog- thanks! Those Edie's fruit bars- lime are way great but maybe not as good as root beer pops!
...doin' a little SMIDgen of the kind of ballet...sweeps me away...
Aw. That's the best. Glad someone else has that running around in their head besides me.
And I love Me and You and Everyone we Know with a passion as well. Doesn't the final scene just get you every time? (Well actually, all of the scenes do, but...)
I love that you and my mum are the only people I know who still use the word brassiers. My mission this week is to buy a thin popsicle mold and introduce my sons to the beauty that is a rootbeer popsicle. I tell you Schmutzie, when I introduced them to Orange Crush floats, they thought I was da bomb. You will achieve equal status in their minds for your timely rootbeer reminder. ErinH
you mean you don't know what sex this kit is? that to me is a little wierd. although i guess looking to check when you've only just met is probably a little off too.
i'm about to move in with my partner's ex's kittens. is it international kitty transfer week?
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
Thursday, May 15, 2008 
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Reader Comments (21)
"Sweater meat" nearly made me spit out my root beer! While I'm on this subject, where do you get root beer popsicles?!
Jules
http://bigpikchur.blogspot.com" REL="nofollow">House of Jules
House of Jules, If I knew where to get rootbeer popsicles, I'd be a sugar junkie, for sure. I haven't been able to find them for years.
TOTALLY with you on the dirigibles.
Also: another cat? You are now about half a cat away from being a crazy cat lady. And The Palinode is veering dangerously into That Guy With All The Cats territory.
Gee, I was in the mood for more bitter but this was pretty darn good.
I'm jealous about the new cat. I really want another cat. I hesitate mostly because I don't want to scoop more poop.
I want to take you to my mother's house. You would love her junk and she needs someone to enjoy and appreciate her relationship with her HUGE PILES of junk.
My paternal grandparents were named Doris and Lloyd. O.O That's a crazy coincidence.... Could I recommend the name Fritz, since that was their last name?
Maybe you should name the kitten "Bud"?
Sweater meat is a completely new one to me, thank goodness.
My grandfather and Abe Vigoda could have been twins.
Never heard of sweater meat! I totally love wind at the tops of trees- it's like magic. I just like you Schmutzie- I'm really enjoying your blog- thanks! Those Edie's fruit bars- lime are way great but maybe not as good as root beer pops!
The sweater meat line is not very effective in Los Angeles where very few sweaters are worn. T-shirt meat just doesn't have the same ring to it.
The proper form of the term is sweatah meats.
...doin' a little SMIDgen of the kind of ballet...sweeps me away...
Aw. That's the best. Glad someone else has that running around in their head besides me.
And I love Me and You and Everyone we Know with a passion as well. Doesn't the final scene just get you every time? (Well actually, all of the scenes do, but...)
I love that you and my mum are the only people I know who still use the word brassiers. My mission this week is to buy a thin popsicle mold and introduce my sons to the beauty that is a rootbeer popsicle. I tell you Schmutzie, when I introduced them to Orange Crush floats, they thought I was da bomb. You will achieve equal status in their minds for your timely rootbeer reminder.
ErinH
wait.. doris or lloyd?
you mean you don't know what sex this kit is? that to me is a little wierd. although i guess looking to check when you've only just met is probably a little off too.
i'm about to move in with my partner's ex's kittens. is it international kitty transfer week?
I vote for Doris. And I'd like pictures please.
I love rootbeer popsicles and saying the word dirigibles.
Doris is a wonderful name for a cat--a former co-worker has a Doris cat and 'tis very retro-chic.
Anything is better than Muddy. :(
Let me get this straight. You hate lilacs, but love "sweater meat?"
Huh.
Not what I would have guessed.
I remember one time, you came into my office and put a little cup of hazelnut creamer on my desk and said, "You should have this" then left.
It was a nice thing to do. And also a little weird, which I liked. I think that's how I knew we were friends ;)
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
"vintage post-mortem photography. Something about the passivity of the deceaseds' faces and the expressions of their family members hooks into my brain."
I can now breathe knowing I am not alone in this weird voyeurism thing of vintage dead people.
Great post BTW! I feel like I got to know you better in a very fun way!
Oh dear me. Forgive me if I left multiple comments.
I guess I am half asleep and need of a nap!