I Ain't Afraid of No Reboots!

This post has no spoilers unless you think drawings of myself and characters from the movies are spoilers, then there are spoilers, but no details of the plot of the movie itself.


So, if you've been paying attention for any amount of time, you should know that I am a gigantic Ghostbusters fan. Unlike most of the people on the tubes, I was super looking forward to the release of the new Ghostbusters reboot, which should be clear since I made a goal of going to the movie AND picking my nose in said movie (which I totally achieved):

Artist's Rendering

I even made my own shirt for the occasion, which was the most obnoxious experience ever. I mean, who makes a t-shirt transfer that CAN'T BE WASHED *glares at Horizon Group USA*

If you want one, too, you can buy one by clicking the picture, because iron-ons are a pain in the ass (There are also stickers, mini skirts, and prints available). Or pledge a dollar or more on Patreon for access to the unwatermarked version to make your own if you enjoy ass pains.

But my thoughts on the movie...

I LOVED IT!

Now my nephew, who is the kid next to me in the picture above ignoring my finger in my nose, thought it was better than the original, but I quickly corrected him, because that is verging on blasphemy. But it was just as good, I think, and its own thing. 

Of course, there are many (cheek-bustingly delightful) references to the original, which I won't elaborate on, but it really is an entirely new thing which real fans of the movie (who don't have some weird principle against a universe being expanded -- or yucky girls) should absolutely love.

Love, love, love, love, love. And so far, all the fans I know are really feeling exactly that, so it is not just because I usually keep my expectations almost as low as they can go when it comes to media. That is to say, if I am entertained, I am willing to call something entertainment, but this was more than entertainment; it was a new and expanded look at a franchise that has been dear to my heart since I was 8 years old, and I think it will bring a new generation of 8-year-olds into the fray. I can't wait for more!

In the meantime, I'll just bring everyone I know to go see it, and draw fan art, and read all I can about it and fantasize about joining the crew!

 

New Things I learned This Week - Episode 4

Thing #1:

There is only so long that I can listen to a child talk about Digimon before I am no longer able to feign interest.

I probably spelled everything wrong, because frankly, I don't give a shit how it is spelled or who they are or what their Mega Ru Mon form is. I love my nephew. I just... I just never want to hear about Weregarururu-ru-ru-ru-mon again. Ever.





Thing #2:

There's something wrong with me.

An Apology 'Neath the Green Bay Tree

A letter to my nephew in the future:

Dear Booger,

I just want to tell you that I love you before I begin explaining.

I am writing this because some day, I am sure you will see the movie Gummo, and when you are done watching that movie, I'm fairly certain that you are going to hook your brain into the computer and google "WTF IS WRONG WITH MY AUNT!?"

And the answer is, "I don't really know. I guess I wasn't thinking about the fact that you would see that movie some day and it had the potential to implode your childhood."  Which probably won't help in your need for therapy, but it is my honest answer.

See, there IS something wrong with your uncle, as he really likes the movie Gummo and played it often before you were born. I tried to avoid watching it and would leave the room or retreat to the computer when he turned it on, but it starts with THAT DAMNED SONG, and that damned song is an awesome song... and somehow, when I first held you shortly after you were born, I thought, "I love my little rooster and my rooster loves me!" and so I sang it to you, and it became our song, and it wasn't until I heard you singing under your breath the other day, "Cock a doodle do, doodle doo, doodle doo," that I thought, 'OH CRAP, SOME DAY HE'S GONNA WATCH THAT FREAKING MOVIE! I AM THE WORST AUNT EVER!'

So, I am sorry. I could lie and say I didn't get the song I have sung to you all your life from a really upsetting awful movie, but clearly that is not true. I just thought it was better than Old McDonald and it has yodeling. Yodeling is good. Gummo, not so much, unless you are into that sort of HORRIFIC disturbing thing (which you are allowed to be if you are... I still love your uncle, you'll notice).

All my love,
Your Aunt J

The song in question. Research the movie on your own if you've been lucky enough not to see it. =P

Chicken Butt

My nephew is now in the habit of greeting me with the following each afternoon when I pick him up  from school. It is my least favorite game of all.

Hanukkah 2011- 6th Night- Merry Christmas!

My family isn't even bothering with Hanukkah tonight.  We will light the candles, of course, because that is what you do, and maybe eat a leftover latke with our remaining Christmas ham, but there are no presents for tonight.  We got a buttload this morning, and as I said last year, the rest of the shopping for a Hanukkah that lasts through (or starts after) Christmas, is done at the half price sales on the 26th.

So instead of a gift tonight, I'm sharing some of the joys of my Christmas.

I made new ornaments for my paper Christmas tree. Each one relates to a major happiness from 2011.

I made a llama truffle army.  They look like they opened the Ark of the Covenant, but I've been assured they are still delicious, despite the fact that my fine motor coordination makes it look like they were made by toddlers. They are peppermint brownie truffles, for the record. This is likely my last foray into making these fucking things ever again, unless I somehow become bionic and regain said lost coordination.

And because of AMAZING AWESOME reader Sarah T., I was able to send out small packages of goodies to several of my friends, which did the trick to lift my humbug grump. Thanks, Sarah!

And my nephew is entirely adorable, which always helps. Here he is, pretending to be The Bloggess. 

Hanukkah 2011- 4th Night- Goodness Gracious

We are trying to teach my nephew the skill of being gracious. When you are going to get crappy gifts, you need to just suck it up and be as gracious as possible, because as much as we all are thinking it, it makes people angry when you say "I don't want this. Can I have something else?"

Tonight, I am testing your graciousness. And by that, I mean I got you a BEAUTIFUL piece of art that made me think of you the moment I saw it. I just KNOW you will LOVE IT!

Bonus points if you print it out and display it and provide me with proof in your thank you note.

(look over there to the left, click to open this OR scroll down)

WTQ!?

I asked my nephew what I should write about today in my blarg, and after asking me what my blarg was, he narrated the following story.  He assured me it is an original, so if it is not... blame the five year old for the copyright infringement.

Once, there was a goose

and he walked into a truck while he wasn't paying attention

And the truck kept driving

And the duck kept walking. . .

(Wait, I thought you said it was a goose... It was a goose that turned INTO a duck... Alright...)

And he said 'What the quack is going on!?"

That silly goose!

The end.

Giggling he told me assuredly "That will make them laugh!"  And I'm pretty sure he was right.  It made me laugh at least.

(It was specified that it was a red goose/duck and a blue green truck, for the record.  Clearly important parts of the story!)

Gingivitis was the true reason for extinction!

More dinosaur facts from my Nephypoo (who turns 5 this Sunday! Whee!):

"Dinosaurs can't brush their teeth because their arms are too short!"

Barbies Vs Monsters

When I was a kid, I thought of everything in terms of Barbies.  That is, I would look at a baked potato container from Wendy's and think OMG, BARBIE HOT TUB! Every piece of plastic junk I came across was re-imagined as some sort of functional piece for my non-existent Barbie Dream House, which I suppose would have been more like a Barbie Squatter Pad, with furniture made out of food containers and product packaging and walls made of record album covers that opened out, or were precariously leaned against each other (no, no, those aren't record covers, those are full-sized wall murals of Prince and Cyndi Lauper!).

Now, I see my nephew doing similar things, but he re-imagines everything as monsters.
At the bank the other day, he warned me that the pneumatic tube carrier that you send your deposits by in those see-through canisters, was actually a monster that likes to eat your money, and it does so by pretending to be the bank tube sucky thing.

Which, I suppose is a pretty ingenious way of getting food, if your preference was money. 

And all the while, I thought it was a Barbie Transporter.

More Than Meets the Eye

My nephew is currently obsessed with Transformers so while planning the invitations for his 5th birthday party, I became inspired. Enjoy my random Optimus Prime art.

Crawlin' like a centipede...

This message is brought to you by my nephew, who was playing with shredded napkin pieces at lunch, whilst dramatically yelping the following:

I'm not entirely sure what it means, but he was quite emphatic about it.


And OMG, the nephypoo graduates from pre-school on Friday! I couldn't be more proud of the little booger!

And also, because it is now stuck in my head and makes about as much sense as the above:

The Woodsman

Sorry for my sporadic absences, but I'm fairly certain there is a crazed woodsman with a hatchet in my brain cavity.  He looks a lot like "Texx with two Xs" in my mind.  My nephew warned me about him after watching Scooby-Doo, but I told him I was impervious to woodsmen... which seems to be untrue.

I actually have a long history of migraine headaches, and have tried many things to get rid of them.  The first prophylactic intervention was a blood pressure medicine, but seeing as I have low blood pressure usually, it basically made me sleep 18 hours a day... after which I usually woke up with a dull aching in my head.

And then there was the Topomax, which was one of the worst experiences of my life.  I trogged through days of crying hysterically at insanely stupid things (like not being able to find my keys in my purse and then realizing that my husband had used them and I would have to walk back inside to get them), not being able to drive at all because I was too spaced out, scaring the hell out of my family with aggressive behavior that I don't recall at all, and then the proverbial straw on the back of a overloaded camel, forgetting how to walk.

I guess you would call it forgetting how to walk...  I came out of the bathroom walking just fine, I abruptly stopped and then I was standing there, a few steps from the end of my bed, trying to will myself to walk forward and lay down and my brain's answers was, "Nope, I don't believe we will be doing that."  So I stood there, swaying, while my husband tried to figure out what the hell I was doing, and had a silent conversation in my head trying to convince my brain to let me move, that sounded like this:

Me: Uh, I'd like to lay down now...
Brain: Nope...
Me: No really, let's lay down.
Brain: Yeah... no.
Me: But this is really easy, just go forward, bend at knees, plop onto bed?
Brain: Yeah... not gonna happen.
Me (thinking): I could just flop onto the bed and be done with this foolishness...
Brain: You know I can hear you, right...?

Somehow I indicated to my husband what was happening and he came and helped me lower myself onto the bed.  At that moment, an executive decision was made that being able to move at will was really important to me and I would no longer be taking devil drugs to prevent migraines.

At the most now, I lose several hours a day to sitting in dark rooms and crying that my brain is being hacked apart while I wait for my medications to kick in.  I find though, that it is a far sight better than being completely useless 24 hours a day from drugs that are designed to stop me from having a few hours of pain.



Note: My doctor is convinced it is just migraines though I've had no MRIs or CAT scans w/ contrast (because I have no insurance so they avoid those expensive tests, though I think I'll be forcing the issue next month when I see her)... but it is not vision problems, or blood pressure. And it is not caffeine or lack of caffeine, or diet, or exercise... changing all of those things makes no difference at all... my brain is just an asshole... or there is a crazed woodsman in there.

King of the Corndogs

Today, while enjoying lunch with my nephew after picking him up from preschool, we were introduced to royalty.  It is obvious that my nephew doesn't have the same aversion as I do to personifying food, because after carefully considering, he picked up one of his mini-corndogs, decreed it "King of the Corndogs" because it was the longest in the order.. and then he promptly ate it, with no remorse at all.

RIP King of the Corndogs - It was a short reign. You were delicious.

Robot dog?

When my nephew grows up, he told me, he would like a dog that makes robots for him while he is at work so that he just has to check them and make sure that they are made right when he gets home.

Don't lick me, bro!

I have to wonder if my nephew has been licking toads. Wait, it's winter... I've not seen any toads. Do toads hibernate? Yes, they do, says google... anyway, maybe he was playing in the snow and found some toads sleeping in a burrow and dug them up and was licking them because he was really weird today.

We went with my mom to the eye doctor today and he was obsessed with the number 1 on the exam room door and  kept saying it was at the end of the depth of the universe. And some something I couldn't even understand about black holes and. . . kick ball, maybe?

But the thing above all that must be passed along that he told me at lunch (for no reason whatsoever, that I can surmise) is:

Little boys are NOT beds.

Which they certainly are not.

Maybe he just fits in well in the family.  He obviously comes by some of his weirdness honestly... but I am not setting aside my toad theory just yet. 

Pardon?

My nephew brought home this Valentine from the "mean kid" in his preschool class.  Some of the letters seem to be rotated, but I think the kid may have taken advice on the message from a narwhal...

Jurassic Lunch

Even though I still seem to be sick with "February Mystery Illness," despite eating ice cream for dinner last night, which I was assured would cure me, I do have something to share.

My nephew informed me this afternoon that dinosaurs lived THOUSANDS of years ago and that they liked eating spaghetti for lunch.

That is all.

The pencil mustache was my purely my idea.