x.art

October 19th, 2004

KERRY SAID TO BE EXCOMMUNICATED

Supposedly, John Keryy has been excommunicated.

DAMN IT, I WANT TO BE EXCOMMUNICATED, TOO!!!!

hello.art

October 19th, 2004

Hello Kitty Has No Mouth

A. Hello-Kitty, in fact, uses Morse code to communicate with the outside world. You may have heard of the book Johnny Got His Gun, in which a soldier was so badly wounded that the only communication he had with the outside world was by tapping Morse code with his head.

That soldier was Hello-Kitty.

too much Sanrio is never enough

See also All That is Soridu Melts into Kitty.

d20.art

October 19th, 2004

Dungeon Magesty

1 part Cable Access, 2 parts Dungeons & Dragons, 1 part Cheesecake.

Thanks to BoingBoing for the tip.

cheese.art

October 19th, 2004

Stealth Tribe: Ellen’s Extinct Cheese Story

My Dad used to love Liederkrantz! He’d jam the package in his back pocket and walk around with it, to warm it up so it was really especially rank.

I remember a big cocktail party my folks threw when I was three or four. The diningroom table was covered with 1950’s canapes, not a retro thing, this was the 1950’s, or so soon enough as to make no never mind.There were crudites and shrimp and mushrooms a la greque and chips and dip and cheddar and crackers, little sausages on sticks, a chafing dish of Swedish meatballs, olives and fruit all cut up, toothpicks aplenty, cocktail napkins and condiments and little plates.

My dad had out done himself with his beloved Liederkrantz. He’d stuffed several of the thin paper boxes into his pockets first thing in the morning. How he got the wedges out of the foil was a trick. The cheese was damn near soup.

Because the table had a tablecloth draped over it, it made a nice tent where I could hide and watch the party. The foyer was next to the dining room. My dad would take the guests’ coats as they arrived, and they usually made their way into the dining room. But from my vantage point, under the table, I could see they all lifted their feet as soon as my dad left the room. It took me a minute, but even a tot could figure it out. Every single guest feared they had stepped in fresh dog shit on the way into the house. Their clean soles baffled them.

It was that reeking Liederkrantz.

Ellen makes tiles.

off.art

October 19th, 2004

bwah-hah-hah-hah-hah!!!

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