As Opposed To A Flat Ravine

As promised, some vistas from our excursion to the pristine chunk of rock and seashore known as Steep Ravine, right off Highway 1.




Not pictured: The raccoon[s?] that was/were brave enough to trot into our camp in search of our yummy camping stew, made yummier still after I rediscovered my favorite condiment ever, MSG, known in European circles as Aromat.

Sidebar: Ladybugs in the Muir Woods are, um, plentiful:

From Steep Ravine

Sidebar II, "Revenge of the Sidebar": We watched Bulworth last night, Briana for the first time and I for the first time in years. This movie has been severely re-edited for DVD, and, now, borderline sucks. Briana thinks I am making all this up. Furthermore, as I can't find any online evidence of said conspiratorial re-editing (seriously, this film used to be pretty interesting, if not downright inspired), George is getting upset. If any of you loyal readers can bring forth proof of the massive chop-job done upon the once-great Bulworth, I will mail you an autographed photograph of Barack Obama.*

Fortunately, the evening was salvaged by one of the more fun-to-watch films of all time, Dead Again. Cozy Carlisle, baby.

That reminds me of two movies that Douglas and I rewatched whilst living in Portland... movies we went from remembering fondly to hating with the white hot passion of a thousand suns and, accoringly, loathing ourselves for ever thinking were decent in the first place: The Abyss, and Glory.

Both of them horrible.

*Autographed by my neighbor Carol.

Getzan Getz Some

This should have been posted a couple of days ago, but in my hurried (and, it should be noted, lackluster) preparation for camping at Steep Ravine (a devine time had by all... more on that soon), I didn't find the time to say:

CONGRATULATIONS

DOUG & ING

The news made my day, week, and year.

At present, however, my day is on the verge of being ruined because I can't place a quote that's running through my head. I think its from a TV show, but perhaps 'twas a flick. All I know is that our protagonist (a nephyte politician?) does something stupid in front of a lot of people (at an interview?) and turns to an advisor of some sort (who is sitting down... I don't know why I know that) and says, "Uh oh. Was that bad?" and the advisor, trying to stay upbeat, admits, reluctantly, "It wasn't great."

I recall it being quite funny.

Help me. These things torture me for days.

Anywho, stay tuned for epic tales of bravery and resourcefulness regarding last night's battle with the elements and, more fantastically, Godless Raccoons of Death.

Special Double Feature

Hold your collective breath, bitches... BumperSmash (!) proudly presents the first-ever DoppleYahoo!ganger-Mug-a-Palooza:




Wes Littleton

AND

Jiff Ramsey




That film had its moments by the way, and is one of three known Eddie Murphy films not to feature a fatsuit.

Some Of My Finer Moments

As part of my exhaustive research for this post (typing "TYME" into google), I discovered that the Automated Teller Machine of choice during my formative years was actually an acronym for "Take Your Money Everywhere".

Huh. Who knew?

Moving on:

I suppose the thought process of TYME's crack naming committee had something to do with the "time is money" adage.

However, what the naming committee somehow did not foresee was a certain Wisconsin student's penchant for getting fall-down drunk his junior year abroad in London, England and frightening local shopowners by asking to be pointed in the direction of the nearest time machine.

Or maybe they did foresee that and I'm just not giving them enough credit.

Must Miss

So I was taking in some college football on the boob tube and, in between Michigan Wolverines' fumbles, I saw saw a preview for "My Best Friend's Girl."

It begs the question: can you think of a less appealing comedic duo than Dane Cook and Jason Biggs? I can think of only one.

Speaking of which: here's a great book in which the author explains how Bio-Dome was part of God's plan.

No, really.

State of the Gallimaufry...

..."gallimaufry" being a word [derived from Gallant] I discovered whilst revisiting the columns of Digby Anderson... required reading from my all-time favorite college course, Plants and Man, which, despite being a ludicrously-difficult course test-wise (multiple choices from hell*... average scores were often well below 50%), did allow us to brew beer in lieu of a mid-term.

But I digress.

gal·li·mau·fry means medly or hodgepodge, so with the title of this post I am inferring that there are any number of things about which I might update you, my discerning reader[s?]. Sadly, most of the afore-mentioned things are rather boring unless they are happening to you. This phenomenon is intrinsic to all blogs and other people's stories about other people's cats.

Disclaimer aside:

1. I'm getting a new bed! Whoopity-Poo! It's from Keetsa and it is ultra-firm**.

2. Some idiot cleaned one of our betta's tanks with the slightest amount of dish soap only to find out that doing so is advisable only if you want your fish to sleep with the fishes.

3. Camping at the Steep Ravine in a couple weeks; rumour has it that one can actually dig one's own hot springs on the beach at low tide. This will provide at least one humorous anecdote (and/or horrible burn) I assure you.

4. Briana just got up so I'm going to go make coffee before she... oh she just did it.

5. I'm going to go anyway. There are several other little components of the gallimaufry but they'll have to wait.

*ACTUAL EXCERPT FROM UW-MADISON's BOTANY 240: PLANTS & MAN MULTIPLE CHOICE TEST:

"Warning: some of the multiple choice answers may be true statements in themselves but do not address the opening statement. I have used that strategy as a standard maneuver to select between those who understand the question vs those who only know that an irrelevant statement is true. Make sure your option is not only true, but also that it addresses the point raised by the opening statement for the question. The form requires numbered options as well as numbered questions, so to avoid confusion, the option numbers are preceded by a letter eg. j9. If you fill in two blanks you get no credit like a wrong answer. Do fill in something for each question, because a blank gets no credit just like a wrong guess."

**I'm sorry, but that is what she said.

For Goodness' Sake

Watching McCain/Palin overtaking Obama/Biden in the polls is crushing my spirits.

I can not blog "funny" until I see some sign that this coutry isn't doomed to willingly deal [yet another] crippling blow to our own economic/diplomatic/moral/educational/etc. future.

It's "Fight Club" on a grand socio-political scale. Hopefully we'll knock ourselves unconscious before we do too much more damage.

We are being milked.

Fuck.

It's Just Been Rainin' On My Face

I'm Not Cryin'

FADE IN:

INT. - 2pm - A LIVING ROOM IN PORTLAND, OREGON

Three 20-somethings, NATHAN GALLANT, DOUG SHEFLIN, and JOSH CINELLI, enter the room and plop exhaustedly upon a dilapidated couch. Doug carries with him a basketball, and it is clear from the boys' sweat-stained clothing that they were very recently playing a game of pickup.

DOUG

(TO NO ONE IN PARTICULAR)

So hot.

Josh grabs a remote control from the cluttered coffee table and points it at the television. TBS' afternoon presentation of "Field of Dreams" flickers to life.

INSERT: SCENE FROM "FIELD OF DREAMS" - THE DAUGHTER OF KEVIN COSTNER'S CHARACTER HAS FALLEN OFF A RICKETY GRANDSTAND AND AS A RESULT IS CHOKING ON A HOT DOG. AN OLD-TIME BALLPLAYER RUNS TOWARDS HER, BUT STOPS JUST SHORT OF THE CHALK ALONG THE FIRST BASE LINE.

DISSOLVE TO:

SAME LIVING ROOM - 31 SECONDS LATER

The boys sit in apparent discomfort. While each continues to wipe sweat from his brow, a CLOSE UP OF THEIR EYES reveals that much of the wiping is actually of the corners of the eyes. Nathan sniffles audibly.

FADE OUT

THE END

True story.

An eerily-similar scene transpired years later in a [dilapidated] Providence, Rhode Island living room whilst watching "Big Fish" with Ingrid and, again, Doug. That particular time I was so embarrassed by my girlish blubbering that, by the time I noticed that my respective roomies were also waterworks (thereby officially making it OK to wipe), a veritable reservoir of sadness had accumulated in the little bowl at the base of my neck.

Dare I suggest that these are particularly difficult situations for guys?

Yes, dare I do.

Man etiquette dictates that (1) the stronger sex must hide any evidence of film-related bawling, especially from other men, and (2) a man must not purposely see any other man cry. This is why, invariably, there is an extraordinarily largely amount of airborne particulates in a room when a movie gets sad; moreover, sad parts prove a perfect time for the refilling of drinks and/or the checking of voicemail and/or remembering you have to get up early so you should head straight to bed without saying goodnight because you don't want to ruin the end and besides you just remembered you've seen this movie anyways.

If these options are not available (or if getting up from the couch would cause the pool of tears from your neck to soak through the top of your gray and therefore moisture-sensitive t-shirt), man etiquette decrees a Stare-Straight-Ahead-At-The-Television-Under-Any-And-All-Circumstances posture. In either the "Big Fish" or "Field of Dreams" scenario, Doug could have been on fire and I would not have noticed.

Uh oh. This post got all long on me.* I'll end it by imploring you, my faithful reader[s?], to respond to this post with your tales of lachrymose movie-going, or at least those films that proved to be a fountainhead of your shameful whimpering. And before you hesitate to do so for fear of ruining your street cred, I'll admit that I cried at the end of "The Iron Giant," so nothing you write could possibly trump that.

*That's what she said.