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Wednesday, 28 May 2003
Ad space schmad space
The word "taxidermy" is derived from two ancient Greek words; taxis, meaning movement; and derma, meaning skin. Therefore, loosely translated, taxidermy means the movement of skin. This is a fairly appropriate definition as many taxidermy procedures involve removing the natural skin from the specimen, replacing this skin over an artificial body, and adjusting the skin until it appears lifelike.
Entries that employ animation, i.e., moving parts, voice boxes, etc., should try to make them as realistic and artistic as possible. Poorly executed or unnatural-appearing animated parts will result in lower scores than if the entry was not animated. If you choose to use animation, it must appear natural.
Freeze dry preservation of flesh may not be entered in this competition. Specifically, all parts of the specimen must be conventionally mounted or completely skinned, including the head, prepared, and then mounted over a mannikin prior to any freeze dry preservation to reduce shrinkage. (Freeze dried turkey heads will be accepted that have been skinned, then mounted on a form by the competitor, and freeze drying used only to control shrinkage. The competitor must be responsible for all finishing and painting.)
The technology of tanning is revealed in this detailed explanation of modern tanning procedures. Join bob as he demonstrates skinning and fleshing a rattlesnake, tanning the skin, pinning, oiling, and finishing the snake skin on a double felt border. Also covered is the skinning procedure for a small mammal (raccoon), followed by salting, brine/pickle, tanning with Lutan F, oiling, breaking, and softening. For the final project on this video, a full deer hide is tanned for a rug.
The existence of cannibalism is one of the most controversial issues in the archaeology of the American Southwest.
You will find that the inner walls of the clay vessels to have been thoroughly scraped and marred by the chipped ends of crushed bones. These are the bones of those fallen in battle and then used in rituals that involved cannibalism and tanning of the warriors flesh for use in ceremonial garb.
When I was 8 a friend of mine threw a rock at the side of a passing truck. It was loaded with tanks of gasoline and propane and when the rock hit the side of the truck, the driver got out and furiously scolded my friend. He repeated vehemently, "Boy, I am going to tan your ass. I will tan your ass!"
Naturally, growing up under the roof of a pacifist, I was puzzled. Tanning was an exclusively feminine preoccupation, as I understood it.
I am making a powerpoint presentation on the mantenance and conservation of taxidermy.
Posted by pudbat
at 9:38 PM EDT
Thursday, 22 May 2003
run over by a car.
Is this some sort of little orphan annie reference?
That was a punjab, too I think.
Geoffrey Holder. The coreographer.
Anyway, I guess there's some getting run over humor in all of us: Gradma and the reindeer, the whole warnerbrothers cartoon tiretread on the stomach, leatherface's brother, Aliens, Robin Williams in that stupid I'm a-goin' off ta heaven schtick.
If i get to the afterlife and I can say "It's everything I ever wanted in life, but couldn't have" something something something. I'd say kill me, but...
"Now I can live forever in the nursery rhyme world I loved as a child."
"Now I can murder as often as I always wanted to- minus all the sticky consequences! Bang!"
"I never got around to the chicken idea, now did I?"
See: starts getting wierd in no time.
Afterlife is incomprehensible.
He will not have a voice. I will not hear.
I learned today that Chipotle, the burrito chain, is owned by macdonalds. I hate everything. Must stop trusting the world. That place rules. The burritos are great.
Hey! What's up with the ITT commercial with the poet? Anybody catch that?
"And now my poetry is getting more personal."
Personal?
Is that really better?
Now I saw one where he reads a line of his poetry.
Bizarre.
Vive l'monstre.
Hit it with a car.
That's why I'm existentially concientious.
Posted by pudbat
at 4:02 PM EDT
Thursday, 15 May 2003
how'd you do that?
Mood:
 on fire
The woman turns to me and says, "How'd you do that?"
So I made the noise again, which was really no sampling of expert sound-production, but rather your everyday, run of the mill, "I'm bored as hell" mouth popping. Pop. pop. pop. Inhaling ever so slightly to get a little suction against dry lips as the jaw snaps into an open position.
"You're silly. I have three sons. They're all 6 feet tall. Like you."
Obviously the lonliest place in the world. Start spouting information about your family to me like I need to know so I can get my bagel.
I'll play along.
"Where are they?"
"One's in school. The others are working."
All I can think to say next is Pop. Pop. Pop.
Three bagels are getting ready to boil. One is filled with blueberries, while the other two have their blueberries evenly distributed throughout their mass. The filled one is a refugee from the Hostess pie outlet hiding out from his true owners in the unsuspecting bagel shop. He's not really a bagel at all.
The moral of the story:
Blueberry bagels are an abomination.
Posted by pudbat
at 2:49 PM EDT
Tuesday, 13 May 2003
cut my fingers aparrrt
My middle finger has been placed in a protective brace. It's hard not to be constantly flipping people off. Even without the brace. With it, my "birds" are more powerful. It's like the guantlet that lion-o wears to make the sword of omen grow. And grow. & grow. Those Kit and Kat twins. Surfboards.
I got my tetnis shot yesterday at the emergency room. Guy across from me had "the diabetes." Worse, however, was his new buddy, who was waiting for the boil on his foot to be lanced.
"Yeah, it's been full'a pus since last week, but it didn't hurt so bad then. Doc's gotta drain it. Take all that bad stuff out."
The world is a giant, pulsing, puss-filled boil.
So I got me a milkshake this afternoon to match my idiotic injury and subsequent "moron-bird." Hotfudge with peanut butter.
Cut the first nuckle from the tip on a sheet of zinc that I was filing the edges of. They sure were sharp! Yipes!!!
Got a ride to the ER from some asshole who gave me an F. Nice new station wagon, no warrenty. Waren't He? T-ball for softball. Softball coach. Nice guy...
Lady at the desk told me I might need stitches.
Nope, just a "super falcon."
"Wonder Eagle."
"Mega phuc ewe."
So now I'm healing.
You're all going to get cut fingers and I hope you all heal well. I can forget my troubles. More "Omega Flip!"
Dammit. Bad luck, to hell.
Posted by pudbat
at 5:27 PM EDT
Sunday, 11 May 2003
holy fargnoli
i was sitting around my apartment debating suicide when i saw this--
http://www.shadeytheatre.com/upcomer.htm
i shall now continue to live.
Posted by pudbat
at 4:35 PM EDT
Wednesday, 30 April 2003
And that's how I lost mine
There's a robot in everyone's garage. Everyone who has a garage owns a robot. Opens the door. I got me a transmitter and there's a way in if I squeeze real hard. There there now. Crying alot won't make a robot better, but the rust'll kill 'em if'n you let it. I got some oil cans like in wizard of oz, but there's no road home. Green horses. The mileage ain't good, but it smells worst ever.
Who likes a cheater when I could melt one?
Dogear those pages and get it back to me. I'm taking notes and you gotta let me in on some of that action. Five to one says the robots'll jump on my car and leave the whole thing pretty messed up. Squeeze real hard and get the boobot to pull up my barn door. Boobot.
I got three car garages that have basketball courts in 'em on my delivery route. I rooted 'em outta box a chex. Corn chex in the morning, wheat chex at night. There's a chex on my pox on my hex on my family. DOGEAR THAT!
Here, we can find her with this:
Who gets that last piece of smoked meatwad at the wake?
The kid who likes to eat meatwads.
Posted by pudbat
at 6:48 PM EDT
Friday, 25 April 2003
toffey
i frekin hate this one. i had a tough time with the last pannel. how should it have ended? what sould the robot have said? that question tormented me for hours. o.k. about 10 minutes or so. send suggestions. and candy.
Posted by pudbat
at 6:52 PM EDT
Updated: Friday, 25 April 2003 6:54 PM EDT
Monday, 21 April 2003
Robo-decapitation = smardie panthch
Toffefay.
Nougant is the missing ingredient of this lovely confection. I have no need for hazelnuts. Or any additional nuts. Is nougant nutty? I have two slabs of it wedged between my legs. The stickyness is me poppin' fresh lovin! From me navel to me nickers! Warts and All!
I love a gooseliver pate. Ummm...
I guess that maybe I got a food fixation and this is my food fixation ventalation. Bee pollen for staying awake, Knob Creek for bedtime, YAY!!!!
I love that burning sensation from nougant, and new guts. Catgut fer my leader line. A ppppoop.
gotta weight my leader. 40 lb. Test line and catch me a marlin, Man and the sea. Dam n think better not rot! Goddam and poop for seagulls. Vocal coach says I'm one.
Cuckaw!
Posted by pudbat
at 10:30 PM EDT
Friday, 11 April 2003
The bastards want me fat.
There's this ice cream place where I live called Cold Stone. Not only is it funny because conversation about it could easily be misconstrued as a debate about Steve Austin, the haggared, beer swilling pro wrestler.
(By the way, I love how they're called the WWE now, and that the reason is a tiny animal rights activist group, the World Wildlife Fund)
So this ice cream place, they got lots of creamy, chunklet free flavors of ice cream that you then select add-ins (candy bars, grahm cracker crumbles, nuts, etc.) to have them mix into the ice cream on a cold stone, thus the name.
The trick here, and in some other newer businesses, is that the smallest possible serving costs $2.99. The next step up costs a mere 20 cents more. Add more toppings, and the're only a quarter. All in all, it adds up if you get the large $3.50 serving, add two extra toppings making it $4.00, then go for the dipped waffle cone, arriving at a grand total of $5.00.
I mean, you're spending three bucks already if you want to be cheap, but if you really wanted to be cheap, you'd buy a peppermint patty and put it in the freezer. What's two more bucks for a gluttonous fat fart? Nothing. Two more steps towards a hollow, meaningless sense of defeat and desparation.
I'm a junky for this shit.
I'm never going back. I don't need it.
I hate you for saying it's no big deal.
This is serious. I have no money and my underwear is turning into what seems to be guaze.
Help.
Posted by pudbat
at 11:56 AM EDT
Tuesday, 8 April 2003
HAVE AT THEE!
Put your manboobs up to mine and pummel me senseless!
I'm like a cherry tree!
Blog me bruised!
Blog blog blog...
Blog me till I see baby chicks.
Blog me under the table, liking cigarette butts and foaming at the mouth.
Blog me hunched heaving over the toilet, gumming the porceilin and caressing a poohlog.
Blog me in the summer.
Blog me for my birthday!
I love you all.
Hope I get some action outta this.
Posted by pudbat
at 1:14 PM EDT
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