rendicion Dorothia

Flying witches spotted in Mexico.

they still wouldn't let him call himself Luke Skywalker

I've been reading Bound By Law: Tales from the Public Domain, which is a distillation of copyright law and fair use in comic book form, and is a pretty good introduction to the topic if you can look beyond the crappy illustrations (which would not be out of place in a religious tract or college newspaper).
Anyway, there's a section where they synopsize some landmark fair use cases. One of these is "Campbell v. Rose-Acuff", which was when the rights holders for the Roy Orbison hit "Pretty Woman" sought to prevent 2 Live Crew from using the riff and melody in their song, "Pretty Woman".
In the '90's, this is the sort of thing the Supreme Court was busy with. Ah, the good ol' days...
The Supremes decided that 2 Live Crew's Pretty Woman constituted parody. In their decision they wrote that 2 Live Crew's Pretty Woman "juxtaposes the romantic musings of a man whose fantasy comes true, with degrading taunts, a bawdy demand for sex, and a sigh of relief from paternal responsibility".
Tell me the judges didn't have fun with that one.
Now I'll try one:

The Black Eyed Peas' song "My Humps" features a narrative in which it is inquired of a young woman how she plans to use various anatomical attributes, referred to in the song variously as "junk" "lumps" and "hump". The young woman replies that she anticipates utilizing said attributes to intoxicate the viewer and extort gifts from such.

I guess I need some practice before I'm ready for the bench. The bench. The bench the bench the bench...

an incompleat list of nicknames for Lil' Griz

Sunshine Head
Punky Brewster
Punkin'
Punkin' Pie
Peanut
Milk Goblin
Roto Rooter
Bride of Chucky
Kahuna

Baby

stop thinking about tomorrow

Hillary, you just lost my vote.

I realize that this is not the sort of thing that should determine who I vote for. Except, aren't they hoping that it is? At least on some subconcious propagandistic level?
And speaking of propoganda, is this actually an ingenious wink to the propogandists that like to obsess over Clinton's shrill, piercing speaking voice?
No, I know. It's not.

Just while I'm thinking about it. Celine Dion: why is there one? I have a, I want to call it autonomic response to her voice, even though I think that's probably a misuse of the word. Sometimes I'll hear music and I'll say "Is that Celine Dion? Because I just got that pain in my neck and shoulders like I'm hearing Celine Dion" .It is always Celine Dion. My one month old daughter in a full on infant rage has a prettier voice.

Remember that "101 Uses for a Dead Cat" novelty book?
Isn't Celine Dion Quebecois slang for "dead cat"?

you think you are immune to the cute. you are not.

If you ever get yourself one of these baby things, you will find that they make all kinds of weird noises and you can't figure out where these noises come from, exactly. And you will watch this video with a sense of recognition:


And, because this is the internets, this idea must be remixed.
The "extreme" version:


This one, with nuns, needs a little work. Also, they are not real nuns.


(via Cardhouse)

Ah, one of those traveling surgeries!

Here's a fun headline for you:

Conjoined twins' surgery halted in Ohio

"Hold on, I think I dropped my clamp in Pennsylvania".

they're not good dancers, they don't play drums

I've discovered that, if sung in a soothing tone, Barnes & Barnes' Fish Heads is a very effective lullabye.


Next experiment: Ogden Edsl's Dead Puppies.

Who knew that of all the things I used to do in bed late at night as a child, listening to Dr. Demento would be the truly damaging one?

do they make one for Dads?

The Why Cry Baby Crying Analyzer is a device that will tell you whether your baby is crying because she's hungry, tired, bored, or too drunk to drive.
Of course, it can't do a damn thing about it.

parenting is a snap! har har

You ever put together some piece of Ikea furniture and there's one screw left over, and it makes you crazy wondering what you missed?
That happened to me this morning, but the furniture was an infant garment and the screw was a snap.
The wife says "can you figure out how this goes on?". "This" is one of these crazy Michael Jackson-y garments, like a flight suit for babies, you're not even sure where the head goes.
However, I tried to tackle it logically. First, I found the three crotch-snaps. These are a near-universal feature of infant garments (allowing for quick diaper-access), and they always have the same configuration. It's like finding the big dipper in the night sky. So I started from there, matching snaps as I went, and I was so proud of myself 'cause I thought this would be one of those situations where Dad steps in and saves the day.
But in actually, Dad stepped in and ended up sheepishly handing the kid over to the wife and muttering "there's one snap left over", then going to work.

have you any gray poop on?

When you have your first child, people never get tired of reminding you that "having a baby changes everything", which, yeah, if I want any more input of that caliber from you I'll pull your finger.
Of course, they're absolutely right. Like fr'instance, I think mustard may no longer be my favorite condiment.

If you'll be my Dixie chicken I'll be your Tennessee lamb*

Wow, not alot o'posting. Sorry, still trying to get my footing in this new terrain. I would describe it as reminiscent of that old outfielder bit:
"I got it, I got it, I got it!
*plunk*
I don't got it."
The *plunk* is when I drop the baby.
Kidding!

I am trying to work out in my brain what the evolutionary advantage is for a baby to scream their fool head off. Everything else about a baby seems well designed to elicit the caring response in others of its species, but this screaming- after a certain point, the response is more: "Maybe if I leave her outside a nice wolf will come along and decide to raise her".
Again: kidding! Please don't call social services, there aren't even any wolves where I live.

The odd coyote, maybe.

But really, those "I got it!" moments sure beat all.

And then there are the feets:


*a No-Prize to the reader who can tell me why that headline for this post.