tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2823054708124099052024-03-04T23:31:52.091-05:00K.wolverineDealing with the four phases of matter: past, present, future and plasma.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-14711736966688437122014-02-25T13:30:00.002-05:002014-02-25T13:30:56.439-05:00I moved! I'm on WordpressI switched to Wordpress. For new posts, go to <a href="http://kwolverine.wordpress.com/">kwolverine.wordpress.com</a>.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-28210339496035594842012-06-22T00:59:00.002-04:002012-06-22T00:59:24.272-04:00How to pick up people in a restaurantMe: Jona and I went to the take out side of a raw vegan place called Pure Food and Wine. Alec Baldwin met his yoga instructor fiance who's my age in the fancy restaurant half.<br />
E: How do you meet someone in a restaurant?<br />
Me: If you're Alec Baldwin.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-34924861750491119282012-02-28T22:22:00.001-05:002012-02-28T22:22:07.345-05:00On constructing mermaid costumes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As a child, I'd make mermaid costumes for my Barbies by putting a short skirt around their feet and taping seashell snap beads to their boobs. When I was plotting a costume for my first mermaid parade back in 2010, it was considerably more difficult. If I didn't need to walk, I probably would've just strapped a skirt around my ankles. Though even if a seashell bead was big enough for my bra, scotch tape was going no where near my nipples. I didn't want a mermaid style gown, and I didn't want my legs to be bursting out the middle of my tail. I wanted fins! I needed it to be clear that I was fish on the bottom. I briefly considered building some kind of wire-frame tail to cover with fabric, but then I found this <a href="http://www.simplicity.com/p-2083-costumes.aspx">Simplicity pattern</a>:<br />
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Genius! They made a skirt-like tail with an asymmetrical hem with a little strap to wear around your wrist. Since I like to make costumes with days (or hours) to spare, I didn't have time to order the pattern online or find it in a store. (Despite being the fashion capital of the world, it's really difficult to find new-ish patterns in NYC fabric stores. Though if you're ever looking to sew something a kindergarten teacher would wear in 1982, let me know. I have some hook ups). Instead, I made up a variation of this tail as I went. <br />
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To start, I made a skirt with two layers: shiny, translucent on top of sea green cotton. I put zipper in the side. Then I finished the hem on the cotton skirt to end several inches above my knees. Then I laid the skirt on the floor and cut the shiny layer at an angle, the bottom being the thinnest part. I turned under the fabric on each side and finished the hem to make sure my scales didn't come unraveled. I was originally drawn to sequined fabric when I was shopping for materials, but I decided this shiny green look more fish-like. To make the bottom fins, I found a photo online of a fish fin I like the shape of. Then I blew up the photo in Photoshop to make a giant stencil. I cut out two fins on the fold, giving me two full tails. I sewed them together, then turned the right sides out. Then, I folded some galvanized wire into the shape of each tail fin and pulled the fabric over the frame. Then I sewed it to the rest of the tail, it looked like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uKXy1OwuozfRH1rIHoCEDGFmu85qJJjS3vJ5bLhJGqRLz6MztV0JcZ9Ld8yGEUINC090eDarUf9R_oJWNRdUBc9Am3dIlMv3Rpcm7Aj_dFq5cOnRQ19lXaKbNORrFd1AvsYmFmc5a9iV/s1600/SAM_3758.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621758453759953570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_uKXy1OwuozfRH1rIHoCEDGFmu85qJJjS3vJ5bLhJGqRLz6MztV0JcZ9Ld8yGEUINC090eDarUf9R_oJWNRdUBc9Am3dIlMv3Rpcm7Aj_dFq5cOnRQ19lXaKbNORrFd1AvsYmFmc5a9iV/s320/SAM_3758.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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To finish the tail, I sewed on waistband that matched the fin fabric and I sewed a hand strap on toward the bottom, so I could easily swim home into the ocean:<br />
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As for my top half, I have short hair. Draping my hair over my shoulders ala the cleaned up Starbucks logo was not an option. I would've loved to use actual or scallop shells, but the size of shells you can buy in a fun pack in Party City would fit me more like pasties. Instead, I took some scraps from my tail fabric and cut out several circles. I sewed each one to a circle of the sea green cotton. After turning the circles right-side out, I folded them like a fan and ironed them into place. I did a gather stitch across the bottom of each circle to make the little scallop tail (probably not actually called a tail). Each circle made a half scallop, and I attached them together with hot glue. For the bra portion of my seashells, I sewed pieces of the black shiny fabric I used for the fins directly onto an old bra. I made a darted portion to slide over the actual cups, then sewed pieces to cover the rest of it. I can't explain my exact methodology for this; it involved sitting at my sewing machine in the wee hours of the morning frantically stitching and cutting. Then I hot glued the shells to the bra (and accidentally dripped hot glue down my torso in the process. This was still less painful than the time I burned my hip with a soldering iron). </div>
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While I was sewing, I assumed the back of the bra would loose some of its elasticity. I was right, but I underestimated how much elasticity. The finished seashell bra needed to stretch eight inches longer than it did to fasten. I added a piece of another old bra, but just ended up duct taping the bra together when I was running out the door. </div>
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My merman, Eric, made himself a pair of shiny green pants with bright blue
fins. He traced a pattern by using another pair of his pants. He sewed the legs by hand, and stitched in bright blue fins on each leg. I'm still amazed he had the patience to sew a whole pair of pants without a machine. (I did help him sew the crotch on the machine). </div>
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For the 2011 parade, I wanted to change my costume up a little bit. My tail held up very well, but I decided to make a new sea creature to cover my boobs. (I also added a tie in the back of the bra so I didn't need to be taped in). After much internal debate, I landed on an animal that spends its existence clinging to rocks with minimal budging. Starfish!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqExJ2-VPPTNWWVBXAtLWzeMWRMlu0BJjqVRwGJ_APiyWoHIt2-_4chlb8h1W0nRPFxb21pHWKJSmwXVUOVFxmJj4RLSZgU1cQSJTdE3BJ8bIGPy8pZwe-GvsBe21YbPwdWyEGWvHvGOZ8/s1600/SAM_3557.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623118275304956722" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqExJ2-VPPTNWWVBXAtLWzeMWRMlu0BJjqVRwGJ_APiyWoHIt2-_4chlb8h1W0nRPFxb21pHWKJSmwXVUOVFxmJj4RLSZgU1cQSJTdE3BJ8bIGPy8pZwe-GvsBe21YbPwdWyEGWvHvGOZ8/s320/SAM_3557.JPG" style="display: block; height: 318px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 239px;" /></a><br />
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I sculpted them out of Model Magic, the fluffy Crayola modeling clay that air dries. I cut out two starfish shapes, then built up with the clay and moved the legs around to look natural. I painted them some acrylic paint. After they dried, I glued rhinestones along the legs in the middle, kind of like actual starfish spines. Then I glued them to the bra again. Eric made some updates to his costume too. He went over his pants with a sewing machine and spliced together a kelp necklace with some fabric scraps and rick rack.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ghmefOJV1XfAV99oZjC7mh5sU6TSbcQudlWLoZuHUhuuWy5z7PQJfLQJtZ2Nz6_DrFB2ZSfK7Zdnmdgmt2zJj8tovqsYQCtasonrCufZ1ljas4KmorONCP9G2aPe6HMMaDQNL9NJS7YI/s1600/SAM_3756.JPG"><br /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-27767972840123451772012-02-23T01:22:00.002-05:002012-02-28T20:31:20.389-05:00Best animal videos ever (or at least this week)Oh internet! There was a time, though it seems so distant, when you were not fast enough to load videos of cute animals. When your connection had to dial up, and it took 10 minutes to log into my Hotmail account, where my sign in name was "crazymango." How times have changed! Now, I'd say, on average, I find at least two new animal videos online that make me go "AAAAAAWWWWWWW!" and giggle profusely. And this is without even really trying. Here are some of the best animal videos I've found in the last six months...<br />
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<b>Otters running amok </b><br />
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Don't letter otters have parties in your house while you're out of town. They will steal your car and eat all of your snacks...while being adorable!<br />
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<b>Penguin goes shopping</b><br />
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Is the best part of this penguin story that the bird is trained to go shopping? Is it that he refused to leave the family that rescued him? Or that he knows not to eat any fish on the way home? None of the above. The best part is that he's wearing a penguin backpack. <br />
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<b>Baby porcupine vs. coffee cup</b><br />
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Please vote for you who you think won the battle. <br />
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<i>And now, for the greatest animal video of all time....</i><br />
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<b>Meet the Sloths</b><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="320" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/11712103" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/11712103">Meet the sloths</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2714304">Lucy Cooke</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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I defy you to find something cuter than baby sloths Lady and the Tramping a green bean. Oh what's that? A baby sloth hugging a stuffed giraffe and toppling over? Yeah, I have been defied.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-85889430640536707362012-02-17T16:08:00.000-05:002012-02-17T16:10:54.212-05:00The 2011 Coney Island Mermaid Parade<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Dv-ZUGfno183X3b-CNM7YLRdPBa0zgrAOcmPZPd3_aVHCwwq7z7jqcFNaIZ5UVBUEKakxWxLofCu4Fd7MZgNEkb2b_upJNWpmtzaUT_1Zikbi3uKTrfMAcsZvSRSSAknr9-CIAXn6BOc/s1600/SAM_3679.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621755458809791010" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Dv-ZUGfno183X3b-CNM7YLRdPBa0zgrAOcmPZPd3_aVHCwwq7z7jqcFNaIZ5UVBUEKakxWxLofCu4Fd7MZgNEkb2b_upJNWpmtzaUT_1Zikbi3uKTrfMAcsZvSRSSAknr9-CIAXn6BOc/s320/SAM_3679.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 317px;" /></a><br />
There may be bigger and more famous parades in New York City, but there is no parade better than <a href="http://www.coneyisland.com/mermaid.shtml">the Coney Island Mermaid Parade</a>. It's the kind of parade where the marching bands start playing on the subway en route, and they don't stop when the parade is over. They reconvene on the boardwalk and try to play louder than the radios blasting reggaeton on the sand. There are no giant floats covered in millions of tiny roses; people build giant clam shells in the back of pickup trucks. Open container laws are non-existent on the boardwalk, there are so many topless women
you loose count, but there are no skirmishes. Everyone is friends, just like in Coney's heyday. Spectators and marchers alike are decked out in scallops bras, sea kelp, shark fins, fish nets, glitter, gold paint, lobster claws, coral reefs and tentacles. Some people threw their costumes together in ten minutes, others spent three weeks building theirs. It doesn't matter--everyone looks beautiful as a sea creature.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zAwVAA2E85aKUpXSIqcEnTfjmfUAKVT89uxoSguN0pATf-BfOkhc4J-MF2Ymtmm0MtcZM9JiJz8OURfegH-y0Px8jC5kxSvijhBaEwvRMAjS76VhgtbIsYfLAbE4PizV8r9KvXO8NKHG/s1600/SAM_3580.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621758463792873058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4zAwVAA2E85aKUpXSIqcEnTfjmfUAKVT89uxoSguN0pATf-BfOkhc4J-MF2Ymtmm0MtcZM9JiJz8OURfegH-y0Px8jC5kxSvijhBaEwvRMAjS76VhgtbIsYfLAbE4PizV8r9KvXO8NKHG/s320/SAM_3580.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_Fyp6auvJ9j6xidFTtSoUAZoR9VFl_s4QOZw_kqThwe2fWYhvCErfJSbLI7jM2Yg6PnhA3-l59uteBjt7sKIS1nFTdFYyrPvgJfsrmLc1KSFZ5xbZh8JDe7hJMq9Hzm4hYyl2-tFMbIj/s1600/SAM_3706.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623121446307516370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_Fyp6auvJ9j6xidFTtSoUAZoR9VFl_s4QOZw_kqThwe2fWYhvCErfJSbLI7jM2Yg6PnhA3-l59uteBjt7sKIS1nFTdFYyrPvgJfsrmLc1KSFZ5xbZh8JDe7hJMq9Hzm4hYyl2-tFMbIj/s320/SAM_3706.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: left; width: 320px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GcUzjgSiSxNJVMKSfbSnVRA3zLBLA6rTmwNjDqyLR0A89h0MzP_Q9dtPxTFHMr1WHI58fCfJZw-ZDTZ_mv4sMPXZNIIwaKRtyfKNUD6dAhHs96VZZHhTVJHyFrrvjXL9TWyTlYPVzcPK/s1600/SAM_3593.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623118263912252050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9GcUzjgSiSxNJVMKSfbSnVRA3zLBLA6rTmwNjDqyLR0A89h0MzP_Q9dtPxTFHMr1WHI58fCfJZw-ZDTZ_mv4sMPXZNIIwaKRtyfKNUD6dAhHs96VZZHhTVJHyFrrvjXL9TWyTlYPVzcPK/s320/SAM_3593.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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At the turn of the century, New Yorkers flocked to Coney Island by the thousands each weekend to indulge in the new-fangled leisure culture. The Victorian era ideals that fun also had to be constructive were disappearing. Fun did not have to be reading a novel with a grand moral meaning or looking at Jesus paintings in a museum; fun could be riding a roller coaster until you vomited. Upper and working classes alike went to Coney Island to watch a belly dancer's gyrating hips, see a hotel shaped liked an elephant, to put on their lightweight suits or a pair of bloomers and wade in the ocean, and take a spin on rides like the Human Whirlpool. There was even a yearly Mardi Gras parade, but its run ended in 1954. In 1983, the Mermaid Parade was founded as a reboot of Mardi Gras. In with the sea creatures and mythical beasts are homages to Coney's past. </div>
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Like old-timey strongmen. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliqZpQZtMPV7P_8rO08fkfYO5vXBGBAhdKaNp5POgligSDnqVQFv5HPM2KiwinE1NoN54L2w3fWPviG71c3q3jngqScEOQegHAi4Xu66uYAYUbwXpno-oNdAeErGp98RgNtKXqvQX8ki9/s1600/SAM_3631.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621652078379029538" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliqZpQZtMPV7P_8rO08fkfYO5vXBGBAhdKaNp5POgligSDnqVQFv5HPM2KiwinE1NoN54L2w3fWPviG71c3q3jngqScEOQegHAi4Xu66uYAYUbwXpno-oNdAeErGp98RgNtKXqvQX8ki9/s320/SAM_3631.JPG" style="display: block; height: 314px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HfpjNfly7us3ZzrZJsrysCsuX1zTNquJIvgNOJ5Yn86jWtVSpHWrproDy_2UYDrmsqjofV4LsHgmheKc9zE7OrK1Lm57SLlzUsXzPid5_CsWvHM8VAUYj9plz4YFiym1ePcvhod710ne/s1600/SAM_3644.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621652080985422322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5HfpjNfly7us3ZzrZJsrysCsuX1zTNquJIvgNOJ5Yn86jWtVSpHWrproDy_2UYDrmsqjofV4LsHgmheKc9zE7OrK1Lm57SLlzUsXzPid5_CsWvHM8VAUYj9plz4YFiym1ePcvhod710ne/s320/SAM_3644.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Or nods to its seedy underbelly. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaDiYrrMXf9Cwga6vKFX20mG5d7Xk9YDCax9EVVYlhtuSZnU6fVZL_MFYj5WB5pnORWmBCNxpsbMgb0SV20DMDKb_zNYoCOgtFWDo-Hcgsh_kTfLpcd5jg9oB8mfdtPwNUB9FfHcsHjev/s1600/SAM_3646.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621652090741402706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMaDiYrrMXf9Cwga6vKFX20mG5d7Xk9YDCax9EVVYlhtuSZnU6fVZL_MFYj5WB5pnORWmBCNxpsbMgb0SV20DMDKb_zNYoCOgtFWDo-Hcgsh_kTfLpcd5jg9oB8mfdtPwNUB9FfHcsHjev/s320/SAM_3646.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Every body is a bikini body at Coney.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9L7BCwXA-bbJO7gusAMokFQqTHhHMI2RMDZd_farB_YnW6JBwWfBvo7HB3g8LjWLPySn3rJF64kbeW24tGFQ2BgAB8Pa1VM_w5nFZqdJ36ZVrG9x3ORpbW5ASuaBJ8d0VLK8uU3cMg_t/s1600/SAM_3690.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623118269366760130" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG9L7BCwXA-bbJO7gusAMokFQqTHhHMI2RMDZd_farB_YnW6JBwWfBvo7HB3g8LjWLPySn3rJF64kbeW24tGFQ2BgAB8Pa1VM_w5nFZqdJ36ZVrG9x3ORpbW5ASuaBJ8d0VLK8uU3cMg_t/s320/SAM_3690.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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Mother of Pearl.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhliqZpQZtMPV7P_8rO08fkfYO5vXBGBAhdKaNp5POgligSDnqVQFv5HPM2KiwinE1NoN54L2w3fWPviG71c3q3jngqScEOQegHAi4Xu66uYAYUbwXpno-oNdAeErGp98RgNtKXqvQX8ki9/s1600/SAM_3631.JPG"></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0y8JuY5AgJIKyZbx8hqigcRgNSzKYuwGudh-wGlZffZv3ek9tPZfIQt0N_aZF_Pfo-fv843NZ0pvKYARiTUWyywTyuZjIYD7JSGD4WytZoVg2LyEqIRevJw-4lB_NjwNNW7TclDhSr4I/s1600/SAM_3692.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621652084292725106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0y8JuY5AgJIKyZbx8hqigcRgNSzKYuwGudh-wGlZffZv3ek9tPZfIQt0N_aZF_Pfo-fv843NZ0pvKYARiTUWyywTyuZjIYD7JSGD4WytZoVg2LyEqIRevJw-4lB_NjwNNW7TclDhSr4I/s320/SAM_3692.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Parade tip:
Stand behind a child with cuteness greater than or equal to this girl.
The marchers are more likely to throw beads, candy and the ugliest tee
shirts ever in your general direction.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0Hr_XbXeUB5J2oc9S4XsYLY9JkO436017rynY7YqzApOVEMAe8ke56y6VcFanMKRFBbI24S7_lqrpzf4LzHnH7Ed54n9rCdoN97kf5wPn8yPKAO1jpIbsRmtbwXcymLLZ1oFwUVAO2E5/s1600/SAM_3606.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621650241793412194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin0Hr_XbXeUB5J2oc9S4XsYLY9JkO436017rynY7YqzApOVEMAe8ke56y6VcFanMKRFBbI24S7_lqrpzf4LzHnH7Ed54n9rCdoN97kf5wPn8yPKAO1jpIbsRmtbwXcymLLZ1oFwUVAO2E5/s320/SAM_3606.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Little Neptune does not allow his seahorse guards to text while on duty.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLPq-ZGU-y5sNGluQnoKAG_39uMPaFdAgK8VY3usBpyVWORiZIO_g1HRaijHfeiy-R0xxOna6kR2jQIXwj4PoAf1Zi10Xyy2Q5NBdspGZwIfiia5Z1oJGlalUA5k-jdQLdtTZqqZTFEZE/s1600/SAM_3685.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623118255921943138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLPq-ZGU-y5sNGluQnoKAG_39uMPaFdAgK8VY3usBpyVWORiZIO_g1HRaijHfeiy-R0xxOna6kR2jQIXwj4PoAf1Zi10Xyy2Q5NBdspGZwIfiia5Z1oJGlalUA5k-jdQLdtTZqqZTFEZE/s320/SAM_3685.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a></div>
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Me: Zeus, you don't live in the ocean.</div>
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Zeus: I'm Zeus, I live wherever I want.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs0y8JuY5AgJIKyZbx8hqigcRgNSzKYuwGudh-wGlZffZv3ek9tPZfIQt0N_aZF_Pfo-fv843NZ0pvKYARiTUWyywTyuZjIYD7JSGD4WytZoVg2LyEqIRevJw-4lB_NjwNNW7TclDhSr4I/s1600/SAM_3692.JPG"></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREkMj2ZC_q1KO3vuP9_GiilyppcXEP58bZrBglacaRUAHKrVv1Xk8bJE9ixvqg-iSIJQATrj2HicKum0f8xiA2GYnMUUXS40VbZats7KyNd_-GdelGLBaGqGi5X-Np5nTCz5Fe8b-PpV7/s1600/SAM_3719.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621755470077946930" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREkMj2ZC_q1KO3vuP9_GiilyppcXEP58bZrBglacaRUAHKrVv1Xk8bJE9ixvqg-iSIJQATrj2HicKum0f8xiA2GYnMUUXS40VbZats7KyNd_-GdelGLBaGqGi5X-Np5nTCz5Fe8b-PpV7/s320/SAM_3719.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Nurse sharks. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizt4e3U7R8VTuwuFMcJl3dDIIsLGynsqXDokjS-hw7PlVurHrXYhbK5liIb4qyHMm0CFPYWBrhe3oTG2Gd7TqjEHwz3lpMXK7yJs1AoYtHoBUciWTfXbF9WUbixp-6ZZtGmyv1KPNkEgbW/s1600/SAM_3613.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621650249493177650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizt4e3U7R8VTuwuFMcJl3dDIIsLGynsqXDokjS-hw7PlVurHrXYhbK5liIb4qyHMm0CFPYWBrhe3oTG2Gd7TqjEHwz3lpMXK7yJs1AoYtHoBUciWTfXbF9WUbixp-6ZZtGmyv1KPNkEgbW/s320/SAM_3613.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Coral reef spectators. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJvXHcX0pfYHGFEJI_IrlFOAH6Uq-ATKMnxE0W-tf-GfKnk81kUmPQ4O7Gsz-Glwgnf2YAOca3eFge80cb5JBEIz8dCpuDfleiZStGGVyVuqvN9V-y2MMW0aeHIrbdzTDADPXMguO0Rlrr/s1600/SAM_3721.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621758459207333250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJvXHcX0pfYHGFEJI_IrlFOAH6Uq-ATKMnxE0W-tf-GfKnk81kUmPQ4O7Gsz-Glwgnf2YAOca3eFge80cb5JBEIz8dCpuDfleiZStGGVyVuqvN9V-y2MMW0aeHIrbdzTDADPXMguO0Rlrr/s320/SAM_3721.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
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Water ballet on land.<br />
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</div>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-18168972437358578692012-02-02T21:21:00.000-05:002012-02-02T21:21:09.136-05:00Dear Susan G. Komen for the Cure<a href="http://www.someecards.com/usercards/viewcard/MjAxMi01ZjE3NWFjODAxZmQ1Yjg0"><img alt="someecards.com - Thank you for cutting off funding to cancer screening programs in order to prove that you are pro-life." src="http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1328094881684_8768313.png" /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-89384588682616380022011-02-03T16:58:00.004-05:002011-02-03T17:04:58.500-05:00Octo Friends!Meet my new octo friend! (and check out my greasy hair).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxJmbniLuLj9KRfVqjnZ67St79MlYSDqZjOev7jnckoT5iibnY3avOnM1v_F6G_ndYBK_kWGgelJVvsLGjGQ_ScMr2JgwHYcxg54O9pwVJNuhrMAZRXC-Jo-m0u5OD-NOjdiwIggUDZ04/s1600/octofriend"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxJmbniLuLj9KRfVqjnZ67St79MlYSDqZjOev7jnckoT5iibnY3avOnM1v_F6G_ndYBK_kWGgelJVvsLGjGQ_ScMr2JgwHYcxg54O9pwVJNuhrMAZRXC-Jo-m0u5OD-NOjdiwIggUDZ04/s320/octofriend" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569586379802636050" /></a><br />He doesn't have a name yet. He's gonna go live at e's house, so I'll let him pick a name. I've been looking for quick sewing projects to work on to break up my cover letter writing sessions, and this little cephalopod will be the first of many. I found the pattern on <span style=""><a href="http://www.craftster.org/">Craftster.org</a><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span></span>. I'm going to make the tentacles a little wider on the next one to make machine sewing and turning it right side out a little easier.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-16319278080824919082011-01-21T01:36:00.002-05:002011-01-21T01:39:14.571-05:00Ant Farm Costume!<div>For Halloween 2010, I decided to be the classic Uncle Milton's Art Farm.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4045LEfCIxjYfH4iGKqeYrtPhkMmLlWExs5V5RNHZxNzo3ueabwVtO_NdRNlt0OiUD9REX6Vbv70rO5OPeSfx7TCLkNIcEnEHiXQ8XJ2qEyfwUClyNfjkJPE0TFeN4XPUk_KqvG0A8SUb/s1600/SAM_1470.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4045LEfCIxjYfH4iGKqeYrtPhkMmLlWExs5V5RNHZxNzo3ueabwVtO_NdRNlt0OiUD9REX6Vbv70rO5OPeSfx7TCLkNIcEnEHiXQ8XJ2qEyfwUClyNfjkJPE0TFeN4XPUk_KqvG0A8SUb/s400/SAM_1470.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564518337818960306" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I love making costumes that are also wearable; I want to restrict my movement and ability to move through crowds as little as possible. For this one, I started by making a simple tank dress to use as the base.</div><div><br /></div><div>To make the tunnels, I blew up a photo of actual ant farm tunnels in Photoshop and traced them onto a piece of white muslin. Then I used a paint brush to apply Sobo glue to the non-tunnel portions and poured white corn meal onto the glue. I let this dry, dumped off the corn meal and kept laying it with glue and cornmeal. When I had enough cornmeal layers to look like a real ant farm, I sprayed it with a fixative to seal in the grain.</div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as the tunnels were dry, I hot glued the plastic ants marching through them. (I would've preferred to use a glue that dried clear, but I was running out of time. Hot glue saved the day!) In case you're wondering, I did have a queen ant. She's on the bottom right down in the tunnels; she's just a tiny bit larger than the rest of the ants.</div><div><br /></div><div>I cut the farm silhouette and edges out of a thin, green foam. I hot glued the farm scene to the dress while I was wearing it so the placement was perfect. Then I hot glued the tunnels onto the dress, and covered up the fabric edges with the foam edge pieces. For the finished look, I wore gold sparkly tights with a pair of green boots, just about the color of the farm scene.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sadly, I only got to wear my creation for about two hours. I decided to take it off so I could bike easily from Park Slope to Williamsburg. I hit a bump and it flew out of my basket, and I realized it too late. Eric, Sam and I retraced our path, but it disappeared. So guess what I'm going to be next year...</div>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-63047943885663475252011-01-15T15:37:00.003-05:002011-01-15T15:48:29.085-05:00100% Organic, 2% BileI saw a (presumably) homeless man sitting on the bench of an L Train car. His two bags were laying on the floor, the rest of the passengers had avoided sitting next to him. As I stepped into the car, I saw a jug of Apple and Eve brand juice sitting at his feet. "I hope that's actually apple juice," I thought as I stepped into the car, taking a whiff of the air to test. It was fine, so I sat on a bench several banks away from him. I could see him eating some sort of black twiggy thing from out of an unlabeled metal can. This lasted for several stops. The train doors opened at a stop shortly after he finished eating, and he chucked the can across the car onto the tracks below.<br /><br />He stood when the train started moving again, grabbing the apple juice jug and facing the set of doors. I thought maybe he just wanted a view of the inside of the train tunnel while he drank his juice. But he never raised the jug to his lips. Instead, he lowered it further below his waist, right near the crotch of his pants. I saw him fiddling with his fly over the top of my <span style="font-style: italic;">National Geographic</span>, and then the liquid level in the jug started to rise.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-26968216216783553352010-08-03T13:44:00.004-04:002010-08-03T13:57:07.085-04:00The Balsamic Incident<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXEMR1ZK3AkF-qzAXoOuHIuWBc8_0LJKh5WgNtdRKqV3kgBJw5btFGilfqUCdZSNVl7ISk4hyhiAiV9z2ALttEqglTixDgvoL1KLUEbDp5lChBgtVLq2QgYtj08kJtHEbX7iwQ__0zRYc/s1600/breakmaingraphic.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijXEMR1ZK3AkF-qzAXoOuHIuWBc8_0LJKh5WgNtdRKqV3kgBJw5btFGilfqUCdZSNVl7ISk4hyhiAiV9z2ALttEqglTixDgvoL1KLUEbDp5lChBgtVLq2QgYtj08kJtHEbX7iwQ__0zRYc/s320/breakmaingraphic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501241212530558098" border="0" /></a><br />As a general rule, I hate sandwiches. I do make exceptions. Lately my favorite has been apple slices with cheddar, mixed greens and balsamic vinegar on a fluffy French roll. Last week, I had the sandwich in pieces and decided I should drizzle the balsamic on the bread first so the flavor was evenly dispersed. As I grabbed the bottle of vinegar off our kitchen shelf, I hit our second bottle of balsamic, knocking it to the floor. When i stepped back to survey the damage, my foot landed on the broken bottle, causing me to drop the vinegar I was holding.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5ZPvhuzqqGBhlE5xuZw56frJRFgiJM3IgUmha2DxU0nrW0ye5wCZxQcgG10TJCB9fqHUSBMBTx8OPhL_-QfQ9T9GCGBFRN4UjYiCToQC8-elnApUkvR5R9Vf9uZvZWXB-JcdeQ-LRhuR/s1600/Photo+17.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5ZPvhuzqqGBhlE5xuZw56frJRFgiJM3IgUmha2DxU0nrW0ye5wCZxQcgG10TJCB9fqHUSBMBTx8OPhL_-QfQ9T9GCGBFRN4UjYiCToQC8-elnApUkvR5R9Vf9uZvZWXB-JcdeQ-LRhuR/s320/Photo+17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501243955252748450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LFMapMsKMxH6vedc2pG_D3woA5FSvAfz12MzP-R9r8HGKAfP_cPs8mgh96ntYnHUcf2xlYntvsQVJj6Nv8XyH7aEaBQWeFACLqDh58DukXWMHpRQOGjwikhX_0uXtXZ9Rqi0d_ovviVJ/s1600/Photo+16.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LFMapMsKMxH6vedc2pG_D3woA5FSvAfz12MzP-R9r8HGKAfP_cPs8mgh96ntYnHUcf2xlYntvsQVJj6Nv8XyH7aEaBQWeFACLqDh58DukXWMHpRQOGjwikhX_0uXtXZ9Rqi0d_ovviVJ/s320/Photo+16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501243947897289122" border="0" /></a><br />I ran my bloody foot under the bathroom sink before the vinegar could hit my open wound. I fashioned a band aid out of paper towels and electrical tape, finished making my sandwich and waited until my foot stopped bleeding to clean up the mess.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-51824768325521344202010-06-02T13:38:00.007-04:002010-06-30T03:20:26.058-04:00Hey Kids, it's Nipple Slip Barbie!"Barbie Basics" is a new line of Barbies who are supposedly wearing simple, everyday clothes. Somehow, I don't think this neckline qualifies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiZNG5f7D9VUvdW6NDZZ6kFX96kfMMq90dawO7tZQ7TTOySoiQZFKBXNwjpMnjzTrh8Nk5C-z2AIhTJvEoFlKYBMsvtXzU6lfaf6gYoQmkLED4BJKDeYZUQmnWHw7KgfojMhaPBY7RhuL/s1600/barbie.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiZNG5f7D9VUvdW6NDZZ6kFX96kfMMq90dawO7tZQ7TTOySoiQZFKBXNwjpMnjzTrh8Nk5C-z2AIhTJvEoFlKYBMsvtXzU6lfaf6gYoQmkLED4BJKDeYZUQmnWHw7KgfojMhaPBY7RhuL/s320/barbie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478234492187674194" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If a real woman with boobs above an A cup wore this dress, her nipple would jump out with the slightest wrong move. I know Barbie is a plastic doll with completely unrealistic proportions; her cup size is one that most real women achieve through surgery. I'm no Puritan, and I think the Disney Princess franchise is far more detrimental to young girls than Barbie's wardrobe. But, here's the thing about big boobs, doll or human: you don't have to do much to emphasize them. It's as simple as avoiding turtle necks and baggy clothes, finding V neck T shirts and wearing a bra that fits well. Barbie's boobs would've looked just as supple in a white dress with a neckline that only showed a bit of cleavage. This dress is something you'd wear to a night club with bottle service, not to take your dog to smell other dogs at a park. (Unless you're the kind of terrible person who would buy a dog just to pick up dudes).<br /><br />And speaking of nipple slips, a Chinese company put this bra on the market.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sXOyOmpQtO455uYG-0rlc_snkkM0bl7Dj0zHvG1BenrmI29BVkYs0-CofZKDjOJTay-_dSGvwATGNXLJCSGyajkI-0iXrPncJIAR0k_ZAXZS_dMYUBCED6TdLCMNdQ7B-zenAujb8n1M/s1600/340x_chinese-nipple-bra-3.preview.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sXOyOmpQtO455uYG-0rlc_snkkM0bl7Dj0zHvG1BenrmI29BVkYs0-CofZKDjOJTay-_dSGvwATGNXLJCSGyajkI-0iXrPncJIAR0k_ZAXZS_dMYUBCED6TdLCMNdQ7B-zenAujb8n1M/s320/340x_chinese-nipple-bra-3.preview.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478244768308186738" border="0" /></a>Why yes, those are slots so your nipples can be out on display. (Presuming your <a href="http://jezebel.com/5535151/chinese-bra-liberates-your-nipples-looks-great-with-sweaters">nipples are perfectly in the middle of your boobs)</a>. Maybe it's just me, but I like to choose who sees my nipples. And once again, the people who want to look at boobs will do it even if they can't see your nipples. <div><br /></div><div>And then there's the clevaage caddy...</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwNpvwSvGZu9cbd9mbTSlypMU8a2gKEEvajc9RVXxgM_JE0jKYA8NydT66OV3JxUEI0UILoIDr115UJ_NoSQmz2L-edBh5EhKAHpt1bIIHjFdQVsyv1tsLBDzeyWmfW44Rbb7IB-iEOsi/s1600/cleavage-caddy-main.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwNpvwSvGZu9cbd9mbTSlypMU8a2gKEEvajc9RVXxgM_JE0jKYA8NydT66OV3JxUEI0UILoIDr115UJ_NoSQmz2L-edBh5EhKAHpt1bIIHjFdQVsyv1tsLBDzeyWmfW44Rbb7IB-iEOsi/s320/cleavage-caddy-main.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478246560352760882" border="0" /></a>I can't lie. I think this thing is awesome.<br /><br /></div>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-3982161172168433242009-08-18T02:26:00.015-04:002009-08-18T04:19:56.197-04:00Part one of an epic tale<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Fifth Dentist Pretended to Cave --part 1</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrk5e-XmTKb_wsnp9rpD1wlMeSJqWdqCzVqOQN0NcLllWz15upkTe7ehslP-EwXh-5Y0R1S5P7lM0Hc5HckXIdJYTP-wrrv1_NST08Lf4opN0b02glHiXaWxIfiGKMGcHxc8Fj7ywBPhiq/s1600-h/comic+storm+troopers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 365px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrk5e-XmTKb_wsnp9rpD1wlMeSJqWdqCzVqOQN0NcLllWz15upkTe7ehslP-EwXh-5Y0R1S5P7lM0Hc5HckXIdJYTP-wrrv1_NST08Lf4opN0b02glHiXaWxIfiGKMGcHxc8Fj7ywBPhiq/s400/comic+storm+troopers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371214094873980450" border="0" /></a><br />Ashley asked if I wanted to do something stupid. I said “Hell yes.”<br /><br />She said it was once of those conventions with comic books, sci-fi stuff, and computer geeks salivating over superhero action figures, complete with celebrity guests and a bad party afterwards.<br /><br />I once again said, “Hell yes.”<br /><br />A month later, we got dumped by a bus from the train station to the city center in <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=milton%20keynes%2C%20england&oe=utf-8&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&client=firefox-a&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wl">Milton Keynes, England</a>, about an hour train-ride north of our study abroad home in London looking for Collectormainia. The city center wasn’t so much a city center as it was three malls that looked like they were sculpted out of the aftermath of a cement truck explosion. We knew the name of the room where Collectormainia was, but nothing else. Completely lost, we wondered into one mall with a rock climbing wall and an arcade, but no one dressed like a <span style="font-style: italic;">Lord of the Rings</span> character. Then into a second, which was massive enough to eat the average American mall and still have room to snack on a movie theater. We wondered aimlessly and looked at a kitchen ware store, until we spotted our compass: a guy under the age of sixteen wearing a <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> uniform.<br /><br />Just like four out of five dentists recommend Trident, four out of five members of my family like <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span>.<br /><br />I’m the fifth dentist.<br /><br />I hate <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek </span>more than any other TV show. I’d sooner sit down to a marathon of Tara Reid’s travel show, Taradise, than watch more than five minutes of Captain Whoever negotiating with ferengis or klingons or whatever alien species. I hate myself any time I accidentally exhibit any knowledge about the show. But thanks to involuntary exposure and osmosis, I know stuff about <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek.</span> My parents and sisters watched an episode of <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> almost daily, thanks to syndication. It's the same reason why I know the all of the words to the several Backstreet Boys albums and the Eurythmics Greatest Hits.<br /><br />I didn’t see any <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars </span>movie until I was going into my senior year of college. Ok, that’s a partial lie; I saw part of <span style="font-style: italic;">Return of the Jedi</span> on TV when I was in elementary school. But my parents made me go to bed. Luckily, the rest of modern pop culture is so riddled with <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Wars </span>references that I had the Cliffs Notes to all three movies just by existing.<br /><br />Video games and I never hit it off. When my family got an original Nintendo, I couldn’t get past the second level on Mario 1. The double Goomba at the beginning killed me every single time. My sisters stopped letting me play, and I’m not even the youngest.<br /><br />I played Dungeons and Dragons once. I went home with my boyfriend freshman year of college for spring break, and it’s what his friends were doing one night. I tried to avoid it by baking cookies, but the game was starting just as I walked into the room with a finished plate of cookies. I sincerely tried to be interested in the game, but I wound up taking a nap instead. I don’t have the kind of patience to sit through: “Ok you’re an ogre with 6.4 killing power and you’re with this dwarf who’s riding a motorcycle and who has a staff and you have to get into this room in a building, are you going to turn the knob clockwise or counter clockwise? Roll the dice to find out.”<br /><br />I hate outer space in general too. The vastness and size really freak me out, and not to mention I think it’s incredibly boring. On family camping trips, my sisters would always bring their star charts and telescopes. I’d always lie in the grass and play dot-to-dot with the stars, making up my own constellations named for what my star creations actually looked like. I named a triangle configuration, “Isosceles.” There were some chair shaped stars that I named, “Lazy Boy.”<br /><br />But despite my hatred of most things sci-fi, I loved the movie <span style="font-style: italic;">Trekkies</span>, the documentary about hardcore <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek </span>fans.<br /><br />Actors in bad jumpsuits did nothing for me, but a dentist trading his scrubs for a bad jumpsuit? Sign me up. That made me laugh in the same as bumper stickers that say, “Happiness is being a church secretary.” Going to the comic book convention and the bad party afterwards meant I’d get to see <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">Lord of the Rings</span>, and assorted other Sci-Fi and fantasy fans fighting for autographs by day and drinking by night, wearing costumes the whole time.<br /><br />Ashley said she was oddly attracted to one of the Hobbits from <span style="font-style: italic;">the Lord of the Rings</span> movies, so she was planning to wait for his autograph. None of the celebrity guests had me shaking in my boots with anticipation. I was mildly excited for the Weasley twins from the <span style="font-style: italic;">Harry Potter</span> movies because they’re my favorite characters from the books. The joke “two of them, two of us” never got old, either, just like saying, "That's what she said."<br /><br />My limited <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> knowledge includes two of my dad’s favorite characters, Data and Warf, and they were both of them were on the guest roster. Troy was there too, and my dad takes most opportunities to point out how much she whines. So being the good daughter I am, I was going to stand in line and get autographs and pictures with his little <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> friends and surprise him for Christmas.<br /><br />Maintaining a discreet stalker distance, Ashley and I followed the <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span> kid to Carrie Fisher, magic cards and people dressed like Darth Maul. We thought we were ready for Collectormainia. We both had our cameras. I had a notebook and a tape recorder so I could practice being a freelance journalist. We said “bring on the trading cards! Die cast metal spaceships! The lunch boxes! Mint-condition ninja turtle happy meal toys! The people who have passionate opinions of which was the best <span style="font-style: italic;">Stargate</span> season!”<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi756kiTsZZFShKZkvWrVLWLd2OHdiVpzXhCjt_IaUSmAClUtH8cRaqOF1DIXX-KuY9rBzTjjEJdh0jw-zHoG04zpO-mV3J5RWzunksSZar_I79gEPXAhrwU-PFhfCcWOb3IbPPDNKxwZBA/s1600-h/comic+crowd02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi756kiTsZZFShKZkvWrVLWLd2OHdiVpzXhCjt_IaUSmAClUtH8cRaqOF1DIXX-KuY9rBzTjjEJdh0jw-zHoG04zpO-mV3J5RWzunksSZar_I79gEPXAhrwU-PFhfCcWOb3IbPPDNKxwZBA/s400/comic+crowd02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371213266367940274" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI_6BtswPrH3F_8E7htRUCwK_RbMk_KTIS3iUeXJT5EOaDI4EYl09xico16fql_HU6b12F_18ArGXldY6vB0eR04TO_n719HtoVQvVzRkaMPY6X5lBrSogKZequfUJWrMF5O9UClqZbGXX/s1600-h/comic+crowd01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI_6BtswPrH3F_8E7htRUCwK_RbMk_KTIS3iUeXJT5EOaDI4EYl09xico16fql_HU6b12F_18ArGXldY6vB0eR04TO_n719HtoVQvVzRkaMPY6X5lBrSogKZequfUJWrMF5O9UClqZbGXX/s400/comic+crowd01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371213260048065714" border="0" /></a><br />But Collectormainia was a sensory overload like we never expected. There were people dressed up like storm troopers, girls wearing shirts that said “Viggo Mortesen Fan Inside,” three girls with bunny ears and tails, eight year old boys slipping their autographed pictures of mini-me into frames, a girl in a Little Bo Peep dress, wookies, trekkies, grown women with pokemon backpacks, a teenage boy wearing a penguin puppet, all wading through a sea of vendors who were peddling She-ra action figures, Spiderman bobble head dolls, Simpson’s animation cells, Tarentino posters, Lord of the rings Replica swords, comic books and trading cards, and fans waiting in the lines for the autographs surrounded the merchandise section. Ashley and I were the most attractive people in the place for the simple fact that we would never even consider wearing a fanny pack.** Since it was Saturday and there’s nothing else in Milton Keynes, everyone in town was apparently at the mall and decided to pop over to the exhibition space after hitting the kitchen ware store to see what was going down. So on top of people in fairy wings, we were dodging families, preteens, and people pushing the fashionable baby strollers of the day, which happened to be a throwback to the Victorian era, i.e. little rolling coffins. The traffic pattern made me want a pair hipwadders, and I probably would’ve been able to pass it off as a costume.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwuMNYoFDxIp1mY7FoigXtmPz7kWsab-X_ZAv9jR9yP0UMX9QA4q9YlyQpa_lab7GmT15ja0hDHajQpDjBY2J2BAgzDMNFVn3qds1OVyGrJ31eL4PYq_AqawcHD9Fwq9RkYZhGTRGp6tv/s1600-h/comic+bunny+tails.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwuMNYoFDxIp1mY7FoigXtmPz7kWsab-X_ZAv9jR9yP0UMX9QA4q9YlyQpa_lab7GmT15ja0hDHajQpDjBY2J2BAgzDMNFVn3qds1OVyGrJ31eL4PYq_AqawcHD9Fwq9RkYZhGTRGp6tv/s320/comic+bunny+tails.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371212622444228722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wNXgQ1Pfxpe40AiwrsDQpUM2v4lDdQHrcIBVaUYWvZ4mHejgvlC0H0QERdPFzcF1vSEmp5YFFpWUsfEFXeQfIiMlQsSQcEiSJ2SoHyDrVR9DLRsFrTBlLJlEqWHU_3JKcJHBA1NHseXv/s1600-h/comics+bo+peep.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0wNXgQ1Pfxpe40AiwrsDQpUM2v4lDdQHrcIBVaUYWvZ4mHejgvlC0H0QERdPFzcF1vSEmp5YFFpWUsfEFXeQfIiMlQsSQcEiSJ2SoHyDrVR9DLRsFrTBlLJlEqWHU_3JKcJHBA1NHseXv/s320/comics+bo+peep.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371212621164124722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsK7JIWIDqBT6fhAsofuMnwYAmCbI7sStNoIh1-b_GJSmaez-sHHyV8MswmaF6ejvhdVZ9PLn40QjyGIMuvPND3vpg6IT5mNR6pLHlz1BDuHDW3SzWovERB4zQNZuTLxe4qAAy8bsMNPp/s1600-h/comics+fairies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghsK7JIWIDqBT6fhAsofuMnwYAmCbI7sStNoIh1-b_GJSmaez-sHHyV8MswmaF6ejvhdVZ9PLn40QjyGIMuvPND3vpg6IT5mNR6pLHlz1BDuHDW3SzWovERB4zQNZuTLxe4qAAy8bsMNPp/s320/comics+fairies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371212616390480354" border="0" /></a><br />We fought our way through the masses to find our celebrity autograph conquests of the day…only to find out autographs cost twenty pounds each, which was forty dollars with the exchange rate. Ashley and I numbed our disappointment with cookies, and stepped outside to the open air market portion of the mall, where I stared at lawn ornaments to recenter. (And only in Europe would you find a meat truck in the center of a shopping mall).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnORQbmnjnP4P4KjQlvPIw2VDRGyg9lQIHRCrU5VLZhj6Mym8NOq1dW8TeUlMWR6IhgcbQciTGizd9pa01_B4Kxl0mL6ePtVxtLk6nRpT3bb1rsW9bfryVBpUNj1IoIm-S_2WYYs-OhV92/s1600-h/comic+meat01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 220px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnORQbmnjnP4P4KjQlvPIw2VDRGyg9lQIHRCrU5VLZhj6Mym8NOq1dW8TeUlMWR6IhgcbQciTGizd9pa01_B4Kxl0mL6ePtVxtLk6nRpT3bb1rsW9bfryVBpUNj1IoIm-S_2WYYs-OhV92/s320/comic+meat01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371215128427833282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZSXTZscZ8khCrRFslzEd3HeXbQNL1RYXyXLO0XssI7VTfH2if0I17_t_rBE_zanvHpTK0iu80BN_gfevZXI8HULSGwbrU0nuL1UTeCGyDMk0d_VepZAprJPAhG2txYr1VLuH0nGRadHh/s1600-h/comic+gnome02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZSXTZscZ8khCrRFslzEd3HeXbQNL1RYXyXLO0XssI7VTfH2if0I17_t_rBE_zanvHpTK0iu80BN_gfevZXI8HULSGwbrU0nuL1UTeCGyDMk0d_VepZAprJPAhG2txYr1VLuH0nGRadHh/s320/comic+gnome02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371214882205958690" border="0" /></a><br />Instead of talking to her hobbit, Ashley and I made like middle school girls and casually walked by his spot, hoping to catch a glimpse. As much as my dad loved <span style="font-style: italic;">Star Trek</span>, he appreciated frugalness more. So I opted for the cheap bastard version of his Christmas present: stand on the benches and zoom my camera as far as possible and take blurry pictures of Data, Warf, and Troy before the nerds in “Crew” T-shirts told me to keep moving.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW2isdxbV9DvXVLbXHGJjocJ_UFHaqNkfM0Wj2mJxQack8RUF5KNwuM9XPZas8BE83Ydx0V0HlgjCRTHHRMajzgyFR3UjvOc_7iZc-WMcCiD8xmfroQ751DdI8NFYq6s7yPZYxDm5GxeV/s1600-h/comic+weselys.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibW2isdxbV9DvXVLbXHGJjocJ_UFHaqNkfM0Wj2mJxQack8RUF5KNwuM9XPZas8BE83Ydx0V0HlgjCRTHHRMajzgyFR3UjvOc_7iZc-WMcCiD8xmfroQ751DdI8NFYq6s7yPZYxDm5GxeV/s320/comic+weselys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371212606435955250" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />**I’d like to note this was before any sort of designer fanny packs made a comeback, but I retain my statement despite any newfound chic. I can’t get behind a bag I carried to the roller rink in elementary school. I would carry a shirt tales lunch box as a purse before I strapped another fanny pack around my waist.</span>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-13516555421557144812009-08-12T16:53:00.005-04:002009-08-12T17:01:44.619-04:00I Break Everything including annelids<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrphVxhc8H0ys0aU9xeyFrOzBhBDoi9jkFoQq1fZgOxdxV7f1COemA9LYEKPmT93j2-j2sGijTjDqGwZf4tVQItbqh-ecPIjhVUrERdXNaht4rxpFumjDcw4_QuSD6mFFcetuFIB5Kywjo/s1600-h/breakmaingraphic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrphVxhc8H0ys0aU9xeyFrOzBhBDoi9jkFoQq1fZgOxdxV7f1COemA9LYEKPmT93j2-j2sGijTjDqGwZf4tVQItbqh-ecPIjhVUrERdXNaht4rxpFumjDcw4_QuSD6mFFcetuFIB5Kywjo/s400/breakmaingraphic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369184561397728130" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI8wfudG8Wym4By-bEZL-m_qrLZem0Z_l3R7tu-JPOeKshxrO86B1XfJbEo86eul4GuYAZfSOXU7UBN8e6XBrnlXyG2l7cb6dbawWoEfOhkm4EZ1rtyucirL0oR-HZBuEYct9OXutWulY/s1600-h/breakprek"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 186px; height: 73px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxI8wfudG8Wym4By-bEZL-m_qrLZem0Z_l3R7tu-JPOeKshxrO86B1XfJbEo86eul4GuYAZfSOXU7UBN8e6XBrnlXyG2l7cb6dbawWoEfOhkm4EZ1rtyucirL0oR-HZBuEYct9OXutWulY/s400/breakprek" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369185273999502002" border="0" /></a><br />My old house had a huge backyard, a medium front yard, and two smaller side yards. In one of the side yards, there was an abandoned flower bed that was then just a flat hunk of dirt in the middle of grass. I turned it into a worm house. I built them a kitchen, with grape hyacinth juice boxes, a swimming pool out of blue paper, a living room, and everything an annelid could need. I dug in the ground next to the house to find some worms to live in it. One of my residents managed to tie itself in a knot. I tried to untie him, and accidentally ripped it in half instead. I put the two ends together, but it would stick together and it was still in a knot. I chucked both pieces off to the side. A few years later in school, I felt relieved when I learned that broken worms could regenerate themselves.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEIJk6cIsHoa2Nlxib2MmYKZ7aryMl9t_LdQfnRuJdezcLqpxU3l2hEXra9C4EZgSUBl6_dN2aKYQBNOIn0gxXXmN8sQOpKdY0oWyC7xHLXxXli2EcdQyrukjDcshszOx8X8d23yQFHeBp/s1600-h/breakprek"><br /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-8085384660240009542009-07-31T02:33:00.003-04:002009-07-31T02:34:51.702-04:00Tonight on 16 and pregnant...Most hilariously inappropriate Halloween costumes for an expectant teenage couple: Maci as an electrical outlet and Ryan as a power cord.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-28968819270330315542009-07-31T02:15:00.003-04:002009-07-31T02:30:27.479-04:00Guidelines for biking in New YorkI've recently fallen in love...with the road bike my roommate is letting me borrow. It's built for speed, doesn't make me curse when riding uphill, and is easy to carry up and down stairs. I will always have a special place in my heart for my Free Spirit three-speed cruiser and the time we shared, but its gears and brakes no longer suit my needs. My new love for the road bike has brought me to my favorite time of year: riding a bike as my main transportation. Admittedly, New York is not the easiest city to ride in, but it's easy if you follow four main guidelines:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >1. Wear a helmet</span><br />Looking like Toad from Super Mario Brothers isn't cool, but it's way cooler than cracking your skull open or getting a spine injury.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >2. Ride with traffic</span><br />If cars and pedestrians know where you're coming from, they are less likely to hit you.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. Assume everyone else is going to screw up </span></span><br />This goes for drivers, cabbies, pedestrians, puppies, other bikers...swerve to avoid hitting them, because they won't. Oh, and watch out for car doors.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >4. Watch out for potholes</span><br />There are some big enough to swallow a small child. They will send you flying into the sidewalk or mess up your tires/wheels.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-37244176869181937482009-07-25T22:33:00.003-04:002009-07-25T22:55:09.467-04:00It's that kind of storeIn the fourth grade, I asked for a gift certificate to a store called Craft Warehouse on my Christmas list. I typed up my list in Word, because it had better penmanship and spelling abilities. I trusted everything that spell check told me. I didn't even read the suggested words. It was a computer; I assumed that it was smarter than me. I kept clicking "change" when spelling errors popped up, including for the word "warehouse." My family and I still call that store "Craft Whorehouse."K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-31310559365333099492009-07-21T05:00:00.002-04:002009-07-21T17:49:31.844-04:00Take a voteWhich is more terrifying?<br /><br />Weapon one:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ13-d95YBsk5_LHy9Wzi3h3ZtDadxaA6ZMq0vLEN7ye0ztfC6WMteImUhmkifcWy_RuNBXITM7CI2ynNAid1vifJ4x0yuXMU9L57XVqCQSkCkVvVwWhb_1BRxOz_iZay4pTdudGJIuDID/s1600-h/6490_580019379489_13804213_34481498_943294_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ13-d95YBsk5_LHy9Wzi3h3ZtDadxaA6ZMq0vLEN7ye0ztfC6WMteImUhmkifcWy_RuNBXITM7CI2ynNAid1vifJ4x0yuXMU9L57XVqCQSkCkVvVwWhb_1BRxOz_iZay4pTdudGJIuDID/s400/6490_580019379489_13804213_34481498_943294_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360835960281572706" border="0" /></a><br /><br />or <br /><br />Weapon two:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ltxXuCukYKG62_uM9B3lR0RnaFq81faH7ZNdINw_FD2ynScwaEtHjkiuhI6jaT5s2A1Ev1ZInsu7Bd-qXZ1CpXgzF_v0p7Lkho7hlB6Z0GcXzEMqN7o2Wz-DicpbQttIDBpwtU_aGylt/s1600-h/kileyjedi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ltxXuCukYKG62_uM9B3lR0RnaFq81faH7ZNdINw_FD2ynScwaEtHjkiuhI6jaT5s2A1Ev1ZInsu7Bd-qXZ1CpXgzF_v0p7Lkho7hlB6Z0GcXzEMqN7o2Wz-DicpbQttIDBpwtU_aGylt/s400/kileyjedi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361033524380499298" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Light saber added by Joe.</span></span>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-62322684541495978672009-07-14T03:16:00.004-04:002009-07-14T03:24:49.825-04:00A printer/scanner/copier should do all three right?How I feel about the my computer not recognizing my printer, but not the scanner:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDafuEZznCJ72g60r_8H26wYmAL4crjEjJcNUmWJ1lclVYZ1_XymMz3vi29gG8vZnABz1lNcSmB8MJUg7i1lNhrkn-NNgVr18lTs9zXFL3V3OwGb3HvNryrYD_AoTa_Akh56aumk_J0BQS/s1600-h/slothman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDafuEZznCJ72g60r_8H26wYmAL4crjEjJcNUmWJ1lclVYZ1_XymMz3vi29gG8vZnABz1lNcSmB8MJUg7i1lNhrkn-NNgVr18lTs9zXFL3V3OwGb3HvNryrYD_AoTa_Akh56aumk_J0BQS/s400/slothman.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358212886447058338" /></a><br /><br />I can't wait to see what the pictorial representation of my mood will be while I'm on the phone with tech support tomorrow!K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-19276468883346010102009-07-08T16:53:00.002-04:002009-07-08T16:56:38.934-04:00Shameless promotionMy friend Joe's animated short "Star Wars Retold" is a finalist in the Atom Films Star Wars Fan Movie Challenge. He needs your vote! Today's the last day! So, take five minutes and <a href="http://www.atom.com/spotlights/starwars/challenge/vote.html">vote for STAR WARS RETOLD</a>.<br /><br />Oh, and watch it if you haven't. It's pretty awesome.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-31595635596670892222009-06-24T04:22:00.004-04:002009-06-24T04:31:54.987-04:00Long lost comics drawn on notebook paperHere are comic strips I drew in the fifth and sixth grades. One of them even has a complete punchline! <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcyPyLdq_ds67OwT0ELYk_C1nVlje2NwSB5_QcAYG0fNipQuoaj6JhroBKOa3t6n_zgXu7ZltcZF1QyziIOpq1oQ-0Z1zFaRyqx7IDuNc8TwIJUrKyc-ALClc2nHbDgLi25FHe8HYdRAc/s1600-h/melon04.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcyPyLdq_ds67OwT0ELYk_C1nVlje2NwSB5_QcAYG0fNipQuoaj6JhroBKOa3t6n_zgXu7ZltcZF1QyziIOpq1oQ-0Z1zFaRyqx7IDuNc8TwIJUrKyc-ALClc2nHbDgLi25FHe8HYdRAc/s400/melon04.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350806983276975634" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpPaomnxXsEnuSbkBPiavUTLBj_D0rtpI43BiUKcoqwIdg_y8_DW_CkiDsY3kO9WOVjGQoo2P9OIoUocf5I8WcPZ7RNl7WtMhrgfKahWy96MPOSMJL-Dq-RKDzjyeCvunupdv7PIwDDby/s1600-h/melon02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpPaomnxXsEnuSbkBPiavUTLBj_D0rtpI43BiUKcoqwIdg_y8_DW_CkiDsY3kO9WOVjGQoo2P9OIoUocf5I8WcPZ7RNl7WtMhrgfKahWy96MPOSMJL-Dq-RKDzjyeCvunupdv7PIwDDby/s400/melon02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350806970828963986" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LvdG-8K2S476gZJO1MQr75N2XBejD66tc0BqZodEz1Zce4YlzTfnyLKAfLxOJjy6uALufmA-yX3m3ji3PillBM4RyZRw_Y0Fb0CbztlvrQ-Ikfk6JJ_Gn9LAwsT0RnYXyznzWLZPRTYG/s1600-h/melon01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LvdG-8K2S476gZJO1MQr75N2XBejD66tc0BqZodEz1Zce4YlzTfnyLKAfLxOJjy6uALufmA-yX3m3ji3PillBM4RyZRw_Y0Fb0CbztlvrQ-Ikfk6JJ_Gn9LAwsT0RnYXyznzWLZPRTYG/s400/melon01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350806969792464274" border="0" /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-22093473698697454812009-05-29T13:20:00.005-04:002009-05-29T13:27:10.666-04:00Putting my brain back togetherBirthdays are fun to drag out; moving is not. I had to get a storage unit when I moved last month, and then I was a hobo for about a week. I got everything out of storage yesterday, so I am now surrounded with chipboard furniture and wine boxes full of my books, fabric, knick knacks, and who knows what else.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPnVjVcooYbbDxsDONZt7vebHOXQ8J8ppQvoUmj9p4EAAMOjfWI36p2beIEjZyheniH3yuMFBN9ex2rAKIYZ9sHRZzKnL0UCbi-vCvD4ka7xIDpSPbDlRHxHzAczWGL9blBJU6bHqB9nr/s1600-h/Photo+227.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPnVjVcooYbbDxsDONZt7vebHOXQ8J8ppQvoUmj9p4EAAMOjfWI36p2beIEjZyheniH3yuMFBN9ex2rAKIYZ9sHRZzKnL0UCbi-vCvD4ka7xIDpSPbDlRHxHzAczWGL9blBJU6bHqB9nr/s400/Photo+227.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341298084618382706" /></a><br /><br />Step 1: get belongings in order. step 2: rebuild brain. step 3: build a fort with the empty boxes.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-76495705444349603012009-05-25T13:47:00.001-04:002009-05-25T13:53:49.288-04:00Everybody look at me, because I'm sailing on a boat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kdmM9OuB3jmfEvL5E2ePnlL7k3tlbcthxoqLMbU-PEUA5TZryow0ufdJzunutImn7Ei-jY_eA6fWmVZjEJRP3aormkk6Lj-jckZLCjkJd-YwzrTzpc94kjU4OhSKT7uKRRRYxD5sGEdq/s1600-h/DSCN0810.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kdmM9OuB3jmfEvL5E2ePnlL7k3tlbcthxoqLMbU-PEUA5TZryow0ufdJzunutImn7Ei-jY_eA6fWmVZjEJRP3aormkk6Lj-jckZLCjkJd-YwzrTzpc94kjU4OhSKT7uKRRRYxD5sGEdq/s400/DSCN0810.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339821083538108354" border="0" /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-57960337620002516842009-05-25T13:45:00.000-04:002009-05-25T13:46:55.300-04:00Guest column! K10 learns things<span style="font-size:130%;">K10 learns things so you can too!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" >Today's subject: Temp jobs!</span><br /><br />K10 says...<br /><br />Sometimes you can get paid by a 501c3 to stab the belly's of piñatas.<br /><br />Easiest piñata belly to stab successfully: The bull<br />Most difficult piñata belly to stab successfully: The horse<br /><br />No unicorns were harmed in the stabbing of piñatas.K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-29240387924987044322009-05-10T04:47:00.002-04:002009-05-10T04:51:51.133-04:00Miss CaliforniaThe news cast on my taxi screen the other night said, "Will the runner up be ready to take Carrie Prejean's place if she is forced to give up the title of Miss California?" I hope this other girl is ready to step up to what Miss USA runner ups usually do: fade into obscurity. But with all the Miss California-gay marriage-free boob job-racy-photos hype, does anyone remember who is actually the current Miss USA?K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-282305470812409905.post-55920777104801959212009-05-06T03:43:00.008-04:002011-01-16T14:23:29.389-05:00Wholesome WearI've had the same swim suit for about four years, and I've been considering replacing it or buying a second. After watching tonight's <span style="font-style: italic;">18 Kids and Counting...</span>, I've decided I can't live without the stylish number from <a href="http://www.wholesomewear.com/page-3.html">Wholesome Wear</a> that Anna wore on her honeymoon with Joshua. I thought I'd never a swimsuit that was both Spandex and a throw back to Puritan fashion, but the Wholesome Wear outer garment converts from swim-ready shorts to a land-appropriate dress with quick and easy snaps! (I also never knew how to make soap from previously existing soap before the Duggars). Apparently, only the favorite daughters in giant families like the Duggars get to go swimming; each Wholesome Wear is $80.<br /><br />I understand that Anna doesn't want a swimsuit that makes her look like a common whore, but she found a suit that leaves more to the imagination than the <a href="http://www.ahiida.com/index.php?a=subcats&cat=20">Burqini</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0etRaBpLyPaovr1hNYho-eI_Mn13yIlIVAY6mA0GNd-bLvgEWDjv5y2BNGyP5ICkJjyXpwEiw7mQDi3ZGECjdSaqAIDG_kemymsA5WQx5vUdqNJYCAPPAK2A_kPOPuF3RGvhU1JmKhzKI/s1600-h/wholesome-wear.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 327px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0etRaBpLyPaovr1hNYho-eI_Mn13yIlIVAY6mA0GNd-bLvgEWDjv5y2BNGyP5ICkJjyXpwEiw7mQDi3ZGECjdSaqAIDG_kemymsA5WQx5vUdqNJYCAPPAK2A_kPOPuF3RGvhU1JmKhzKI/s400/wholesome-wear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335226281661638418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2zrru9_IgqLvigneubqK6hjJ_xF4i1h9B-mHT8o12zLjB3oNqEyixgd5r-i-XXl09hpVnrWxy46E3QmcirKzSb572f4tRq_o4Q03raRXm25BylYxMJJJyFmDWJfrjYHuNbIXIWUsgJy2/s1600-h/300_46350.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 277px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR2zrru9_IgqLvigneubqK6hjJ_xF4i1h9B-mHT8o12zLjB3oNqEyixgd5r-i-XXl09hpVnrWxy46E3QmcirKzSb572f4tRq_o4Q03raRXm25BylYxMJJJyFmDWJfrjYHuNbIXIWUsgJy2/s400/300_46350.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335739059836058450" /></a>K.Wolverinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10295466009667295455noreply@blogger.com3