Cars 2 promo art … and lots of it

I'll admit I'm very skeptical of Cars 2. The original Cars was the first Pixar movie that seemed to fall short of the high expectations the animation studio was setting for itself. I'm hardly alone when I say that it creeped me out a little with those plasticy human faces on the front of automobiles.

The second one drifts into theaters next week. Check out some of the film's concept art. It's all hand painted in soft hues and delicate strokes, and it kinda makes me want to see a film that looks like these paintings, which of course Cars 2 does not. All photos are clickable.

Now check out these rather nifty fake travel posters:

As if all that wasn't enough, here is the combined three-panel poster that has been hanging in theaters lately. Damn, these Pixar folks are clever.

That's What I Get For Raising Smart Ass Children

So, the other day my son and I were getting our teeth cleaned at our bi-annual trip to the dentist. He was x-rayed and cleaned first - then came over to hang out with me while they worked me over. Christian went to the toy box to get his prize - even though he is 16 years old. The yo-yo sucked so he went back to get something else. The chair was reclined back, my eyes behind the protective glasses were closed and my mouth was wide open. The Dental Hygienist turned her head to grab a tool and my man-child crammed a toy truck in my mouth.

It. Was. Awesome.

Random Answer To Random Moslem Question That Made Me Randomly Giggle

A friend forwarded me the following random comment from some random site by some random guy that calls himself RandomFerret.

I found it not-so-randomly funny.

No, Moslems don’t believe that Jesus was the messiah.

Think of it like a movie. The Torah is the first one, and the New Testament is the sequel. Then the Qu’ran comes out, and it retcons the last one like it never happened. There’s still Jesus, but he’s not the main character anymore, and the messiah hasn’t shown up yet,

Jews like the first movie but ignored the sequels, Christians think you need to watch the first two, but the third movie doesn’t count, Moslems think the third one was the best, and Mormons liked the second one so much they started writing fanfiction that doesn’t fit with ANY of the series canon.

I LOVE This Story!

Yep, There's One For Coochies

So, of course, I HAD to see if there was a Vagina Museum. And, Yessiree Bob, I Googled and up popped The Original Vulva Museum. Of course, it's all artwork and jewelery inspired by the marvelous muff and not actual specimens like in the penis palace. Cause let's face it, a room full of old vaginas - pickled, canned or dried; human, elephant or platypus - would only look like a bunch of shriveled fruit and, honestly, who would pay money for that?

Same with the Museum of Menstruation. Been there. Done that.

Then I found this Vulva Bed that you can actually crawl into complete with a clitoral hood pillow to rest your weary head upon. While this item might be very useful in therapists offices when re-birthing patients dealing with Mommy issues; wild weekend feminist retreats; and Tequila-lubricated lesbian slumber parties, it's not exactly my cup of tea. But a giant penis-shaped, wrap-around body pillow?

Dear Santa...

He Picked A Peck Of Pickled WHAT???

Iceland's Penis Museum Finally Gets Human Specimen

(Well, it's about damn time!)

LONDON (AP) - In life, Pall Arason was an attention-seeker. In death, the 95-year-old Icelander's pickled penis will be the main attraction at one of the world's most bizarre museums.

Sigurdur Hjartarson, who runs the Phallological Museum in the tiny Icelandic fishing town of Husavik, says Arason's organ will help complete his extensive collection of whale, seal, bear, and other mammalian members.

The museum has been open since 1997 but Hjartarson has long waited for a human specimen to round out his display.

Hjartarson says that Arason, a friend, agreed to help by having his penis donated after his death.

The medical director of Akureyri Hospital said Tuesday that the operation was carried out in January under the supervision of a doctor at a local morgue.

Okay, bravo for having the museum. Fascinating, subtly seductive, cool, hip and forward thinking. I would totally spend hours perusing. But, I'm sorry, a 95-year-old Icelander's pickled penis??? The combination of being so riveted to that freaking jar that I couldn't possibly look away if I wanted to, mixed with the desperate need to run screaming from the building, might actually be the thing to finally cause my spontaneous combustion.

Oh, To Have That Much Time On My Hands

I recently came across This Article about a woman who created a 14 foot replica of The Last Supper out of lint collected from her dryer.



Not that I don't think it's totally cool and inventive, because I do, but 700-800 hours of laundry in 7 months??? Are you freaking kidding me???

The Russian Bomb Squad? Wow, BOB Is One Powerful Dude

Completely awesome. Russian bomb squad called in to defuse sex toy.

Anti-terrorist bomb squad experts were called to a post office in the northwest of Russia to make safe a package from which a strange ticking sound was coming, local police said on Monday. They found a vibrator.

The incident took place at Petrozavodsk in the republic of Karelia and followed a call from a postal worker who had identified a suspect package, a police spokeswoman told AFP by phone.

"The post building was ringed by the security forces and people were evacuated," she said.

"In the package the bomb squad found a vibrator."

The sex toy had apparently been turned on "by accident."

Speaking of ridiculously entertaining, totally unrelated ticking noises... (Don't think for a second that me and my loin fruit don't have this memorized and haven't broken it out many times while driving around in the car.)

Johnny Depp In... Where???

Okay, this What Celebrities Would Look Like If They Moved To Utah website is actually really funny. Except Johnny Depp. When I first read the words "Johnny Depp In Taylorsville" I thought, "Please, God. Yes, Yes, Yes!"

And then I saw the photo.


No. NO. NO!!!

Some things are just not funny.

As Long As He Enjoys His Death, It's All Good

My son is playing in a Lacrosse tournament this weekend and I just had to sign the following waiver:

I understand that the dangers and risks of playing or practicing to play or participate in Lacrosse include, complete or partial paralysis, brain damage, serious injury to all bones, joints, ligaments, muscles, tendons, and other aspects of the muscular skeletal system, serious injury to virtually all internal organs, and serious injury or impairment to other aspects of the body, general health, and well being. I understand that the dangers and risks of playing or practicing to play or participate in Lacrosse may result not only in serious injury, but in a serious impairment of future abilities to earn a living, to engage in other business, social and recreational activities, and generally to enjoy life.

WTF??? Seriously, how is a mother supposed to sign something like that?

I'm pretty sure I had to sign the same thing when I was registering to play this game of life as well.

What the hell was I thinking?

Currently Listening To

A Bouncing Baby Bieber

Okay, I am officially old.

Justin Bieber? Seriously? I mean, he's darling and all but girl's are screaming and crying and throwing themselves at... a fetus. I don't get it. I see him and want to either Swaddle & Bottle him or put him in a Johnny Jump Up and swoon over how damn cute he is. Sexy? Seriously? The kid's got bubble gum cards and entire magazines devoted to him. "Peek inside my bedroom" teases the newsstands. He's a freaking teenager. What could I possibly want to peek in his bedroom for? I have teenagers - I know what their rooms look like. No thanks. That is one sneak peek that I am happy to pass on. And you want to know why? BECAUSE I AM OFFICIALLY OLD.

And because those peeks and teases and shout outs are not meant for me. They are meant for the other fetuses. Fetuses that live at the mall and cream and faint and turn Elvis-Fan all over Baby Bieber. Fetuses that have never even heard of Andy Gibb or any of the other heartthrobs that covered my bedroom walls a million and a half years ago. They may know who Rob Lowe is but I guarantee NONE of them look at him the way I did when I was 15.

An entire movie? Really?



Maybe one day I'll get it.

It will be like Zac Efron. He was just that cute little guy from High School Musical until my friends and I had a Girl's Night Out and saw 17 Again. Holy shit. He came on screen and our eyes flew out of our heads, jaws dropped and we shifted in our suddenly warm seats - all mouthing simultaneously,
"When did Zac Efron get hot???" Check him out. Damn. (Okay, for the record he is, like, 24 - which totally makes him Fair and Legal Game.) Maybe it will be like that. One day I will turn around and there he'll be. Baby Bieber all grown up. And I'll say, "Damn! When did Baby Bieber get hot???"

Of course, by then I will be in an old folks home and won't even remember that I once had a Harem - let alone be able to add him to it.

What a horrible thought.

But, seriously, look at him laying back on his bean bag all Rico Suave-like, begging me with his eyes to... what? Make him do his homework?

Dammit. I am officially old.

The Dog Who Loved To Suck On Toads

I LOVE this dog!

Now she only sucks on weekends. No comment.

Bluntcard Dot Com

Thank You Allie Beau Ballie for my New Favorite Website. Use caution when entering this site, you may get lost in it for hours...

Captured Moment: Small Is Beautiful (aka: Happy Day After Thanksgiving)

Captured Moment: Oops - Our Bad

Stemware

So, last summer I had dinner with some friends. At some point in the evening it was discussed that a certain male guest had recently gotten rid of all but, like, three and a half pieces of his stemware. This, of course, baffled me because (A) While I’m a recovering pack rat, I cannot imagine getting rid of something so lovely and practical that one will surely need in the future. (B) My religious upbringing was deeply rooted in the belief that one saves and stockpiles in preparation for the Millennium. Jesus comes back - you better believe he's coming over to turn my water into wine. And that party will require some seriously cool goblets. And (C) I kind of have a thing for stemware and can't imagine getting rid of it no matter how many times I move or get divorced. Not that I have amazing stemware – nor do I have an amazing collection of sexy shoes – but, in my head, I have oodles of both. And a killer Margarita machine. And a Dove chocolate fountain next to my bed.

But I digress…

I ran into said dinner-friends more recently at the Equality Utah Allies Dinner. Somewhere between those two encounters it was decided that I would blog about Stemware. Totally random. But also totally cool as it allows me to mix it up and has not one thing to do with Homosexuality or Mormonism. Thank God.

Stemware. Where, oh where, does one begin? First of all, when drinking wine the kind of stemware you use really does make a difference. I, of course, thought this was complete bullshit until I had dinner at Rivers and the Sommelier gave me and the friends I was with a very cool, private wine tasting party. He had us taste the same wine in different glasses and there was a marked difference in flavor. Riedel glasses, I believe, are the best. And cost a lot more than the funky ones from Pier 1 – which are way better to serve at a party where glasses get broken all the time. That way you won’t hate drunk cousin Dumb Ass for breaking an $80.00 glass when she decides she must sing from atop the piano that you don’t own – you can just hate her for being a dumb ass.

Stemware. Good.

Lipless glasses. Very good.

Huh.

That’s all I got.

Okay, that’s not at all true. Years ago when I was in a show at Connecticut Rep – a friend in the dressing room told me that her boyfriend told her she had perfect martini glass tits. This meant that her tit fit perfectly into a martini glass. I remember thinking that martini glasses were far too pointy to be proud of that fact but that it was way better than fitting perfectly into a champagne glass.

From that day on, every time I see a martini glass I want to put my boob in it.

The End.

Getting All Twitterpated

No idea why it took me this long to join the Twitter Party. Can this still be considered fashionably late?

My Call Is Important To You My Ass

My Internet went out last Saturday. I just got it back today. I'll leave you to fill in the blanks regarding my fucking week of lack-of-tech-support HELL.

Stiff one, anyone?

Yes please. Both kinds...

Still My Favorite Summer Photo

Dickhead.