No One Wins With a Headbutt

These profound words are from Paul Blart: Mall Cop, whose influence is evidently still strong in me after having freshly watched it. But that's not what this episode is about...although I'm not entirely sure it's not what it's about. Tonight we're gonna work through some stuff, we're just gonna put some stuff down, we're just gonna let it roll like a marshmallow moonwalk, we're not gonna get too critical...because I have been too critical lately, and I don't know why.

First of all, let's not confuse this with some sort of cry for help from the sad clown. It's not sadness, I'm just feeling a bit creatively inert. My guess is it stems from a lack of blog posting. That being said, let's jump right in shooting from the hip.

I recently noticed something in my favorite pizza place that I found hilarious and felt it was worth some attention. Amongst the others was a vending machine that offers...

Where does one begin? Sometimes things just roll into your lap with no Photoshop required. My first reaction is to reconsider everything I thought I knew about gold teeth and what kind of connotations they have in our society. Clearly it's become a status symbol, but how did that really even happen? My guess is that somewhere along the line the kids who were too cool to brush their teeth began to develop tooth decay, and ultimately were forced into corrective dentistry. After learning that their scabby teeth were going to be covered in gold for whatever reason, it became a way to say, "This is a unique proceedure that involves the use of a precious metal and as a result is very costly. That's how I roll." Does that mean we'll soon start to see pacemakers encrusted in jewels? "Check me out. I just had a $30,000 heart surgery."

Another thing to notice here is that not all of the pictured teeth have what I would consider to be "bling". The one is just a grotesque abnormality that looks more like deer antlers than teeth. Is that cool? Clearly my model for coolness needs updating, but bloody, puffy gums seem like a passing fad. Even the gums on the blingy ones look puffy, in which case you would think a person would not want to draw attention to their gingivitis. It reminds me of when I had braces growing up, and how I thought the clear ceramic ones would be "cooler" and less noticeable. As it turned out, the rubber bands would readily turn yellow, giving the appearance of translucent yellow balls of crud covering my teeth, drawing attention to my gingivitis. Talk about your all-time backfires. At least I only had braces for four years.

All this fun doesn't come without a price though, as Bling Teeth pose a choking hazard. Hard to imagine that a small irregularly shaped piece of plastic that you put in your mouth could be a choking hazard. I suppose I'll just have to put my trust in the good people at Bling Teeth. It reminds me of a Halloween makeup package I once saw that pictured a kid whose face was painted up like a witch or something with the words "no mess" at the bottom. That sort of assumes that you don't find the whole thing to be a mess.

Surprisingly, this vending machine is right next to the Bling Teeth, and there might even be a tattoo one next to that.

At any rate, you could easily transform yourself into a dirtbag with little more than pocket change. You could fool your friends, maybe even trade Bling Teeth. So much for curbing my criticism. Collect all 22!

Emerge My Little Babies

I've been gettin' pretty lathered up lately about garden stuff, and I just can't hold it in anymore. I realize that not many of my friends or work colleagues are as jazzed about flora and fauna as I am, and it is evident in the yawns that immediately follow my words. What then makes you, a dedicated Lair reader any different? You are no different. You've probably already jumped over to Hulu after two sentences of this steaming pile. So what I'm essentially doing here is curling up with my diary...the behavior of a twelve year old girl. Let's have a quick summary.

Gardening = Geriatric

Diaries = Pre-pubescents

Me = Identity crisis

It's actually fine. I like it, the garden likes it, it keeps me off tha streets...we all win, and this year I'm hoping to win big. What I'm finding is that it all boils down to soil preparation. Last year the priority was just to get the thing together with little regard for the soil composition. As it turned out, Kit Kats and diapers don't need that much nourishment so it all worked out. This year though, I will be upping the ante with sweet ingredients like lime, manure, shredded decomposing leaves, dead squirrels, and possibly a little sphagnum moss. Any good gardener will tell you that organic material is crucial to the prosperity of your little ecosystem, and that it can hardly be overdone. That is why I am especially committed to brewing an especially tangy batch of nitrogen-rich crud for all of my little babies to soak up.

Another horticultural aspiration I had for this year was to extend the growing season. The two ways I plan on doing this are by way of sowing seeds indoors and relay planting. The indoor seedlings are really just kind of a way to get more satisfaction out of it all by witnessing and facilitating the entire process. I don't expect to save any money, but it has provided me with enough knowledge to start up a killer conversation over canasta at the rest home.

Take a look

The dudes in front are like, "Feed meh Seymore!"

Also, I went out tonight to see if anything was happening on the hops front, and would you believe the little turds are about six inches tall already? They're lookin' mighty too. Thick n' meaty, ready to stink up the joint. With any luck we'll have this going on soon.

Archers of the Oak Lair

I took part in my first 3-D archery target shoot today, and I'm here to report that it was all that I was hoping it would be. The event was one of many put on by the Eau Claire Archers and it was clear that they had their ducks (or any wildlife for that matter) in a row.

Not exactly sure what to expect, I showed up with a couple fellow 3-D virgins (sorry Scott and Ralph) ready to shoot some crap. And what a variety of crap there was. Our hunt began on a winding trail that led us to our first unsuspecting target...a caribou I think. There he stood, totally oblivious to the deadly predators nearby. What a beauty. Foam horns, nice big foam body...stunning. I should also mention that this all plays a lot like golf. You approach your target, estimate yardage (measure yardage with a range finder in our case) and let one fly. There's an obstacle of some kind at each stage like elevation or a pesky tree branch that must be accounted for too, further separating it from the controlled setting of an indoor range. So anyway, back to this juicy, majestic specimen that stood before us waiting to be harvested. I wheel up to the tee box, nock my $6 arrow, and release my first shot into the animal's leg giving me 5 out of a possible 12 points. Not the end of the world I thought, I mean the thing's almost 40 yards away, I didn't completely miss and destroy my arrow...did I? As it turned out, I must've hit the stake that anchored the foam beast to the ground because when I pulled out my arrow it looked like this.

Trying to leave all that behind me, I was less than optimistic about my chances with the next 39 targets and 5 remaining arrows. I knew there would be a certain level of donation for participating in something like this, but an arrow per shot seemed a bit ridonkulous. But after a few good arrows I started to become more confident in the notion of actually finishing the round with the equipment I brought. It bears mentioning though, that any time you have 3 dudes shooting at the same spot over and over again, and Jupiter aligns with Mars, there is a chance for the elusive "Robin Hood". Pretty cool...especially if it's not your arrow.


One of the most pleasantly surprising things about the shoot was number and variety of target types. We were confronted by a smattering of animals ranging from mammal to reptile. It was clear that this was no attempt to emulate any kind of real hunting scenario, unless you consider wandering through a zoo deliberately and indiscriminately shooting one animal after the next regardless of species to be a real hunting scenario. Each scene individually though, did offer a shot that was a fair representation of what one might naturally find in the woods...or in Jurassic Park.

Yeah, that's a stegasaurus.

We did see this guy out there along with a variety of other Reinhart targets. I especially appreciate the bipedal nature of this one. Always wanted to shoot a biped.

The only thing I was left wanting by the end was a scary clown target. Any kind of evil clown will do, but a perfect fit would've been either a Killer Clown from Outer Space or the clown that Pee Wee chained his bike to in front of Mario's magic shop. Aside from that, I had a blast flingin' arrows and look forward to my next lawn ornament safari.

Roll Over Chopin

Lately we've just been so caught up in the anticipation of Maura's first steps that we almost completely missed her musical development. When they get to this age it's hard to have a full appreciation for the scope of their ability, so this was certainly a wake up call. Join me now as we watch this little petunia blossom before our eyes.

Elite 8

Hey wait...don't leave. This isn't a post about the remaining teams in the NCAA basketball tournament so hear me out. It's about the eight remaining contestants on *drum roll* ...American Idol.

Now you can run away.

I tuned in about halfway through this season, but I'm starting to get emotionally invested nonetheless. Though it's probably a complete waste of time since each of you weep sweetly while worshiping your favorite idols, I'm gonna go ahead and give you a quick rundown of each contestant and how they stack up.

8. Slumdog Bazillionaire

Anoop is a lot like salsa in the regard that people love to say 'Noop-Dog. The only difference is that if salsa is America's favorite condiment, Anoop is more like easy cheese.

7. Grubby Timberlake

I think this guy can rock a little, but every time I see him I smell corn chips and beer. His talents are more suited for cartoon voice work...like if they were to redo Peanuts he could be a 45 year old Pigpen.

6. Great American Hero

"Bye bye now."

It's almost time to mash the panic button as viewers appear to be growing weary of this awkward balladeer. My suggestion would be to dig a pair of Gokey's once worn glasses out of the garbage and see if they still hold any magical power.

5. Big Rounds

"BWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

"Little" needed a homerun on Motown week but basically had to settle for a sharp single though the infield. Definitely not terrible, but the Fantasia factor will soon wear off, much like everyone's fascination with her luscious lumps.

4. Lil' Miss Mamacita

16 years old or not, this turd can turn the dial to 11. Shortly after this picture was taken this happened.

3. Whatshisface

"Yowch! Sharp strings!"

This guy's pretty good, whatever. His giant mouth contributes to his ability to make powerful faces.


2. Gokey Smurf

"I fully ex-spec you to vote for me."

Fashion-sensitive, and just plain sensitive, Gokey's glasses are a plea to keep your eyes above the belt line. However, his overtly tender song selection may carve his name next to Clay Aiken as the nice guy runner up.


1. Emo Lambchop

"Hi, I'm Sonic the Hedgehog. Have we met?"

Say what you will about the risky arrangements and bold outfits, this drama queen knows how to continually put Paula Abdul into a state of cougar-like wonderment. His adroit performances and androgenous demeanor score points with all genders and ages.

March Tenderness

Here we are at the end of March, and it appears that the college basketball world is in the grips of full-blown madness. Brackets are busted as the upsets continue, and as we wring our hands and bite our towels at home, the bench players appear to have their own way of comforting each other and coping with stress.

Interlocking arms.

"So guys, it looks like this one's coming down to the wire. I mean, we're down by six with a minute left, and well...I think it's time we interlock arms. D'Andre, Mookie, whaddya think? Would you be okay with it if I wanted to go ahead and lock up with you guys? Since we're on t.v. I think it would be a great demonstration of team cohesiveness, and honestly it would do a lot for me as well. It's not like I'm asking to hold hands with you guys, I mean come on."

Solid Parenting

As we approach Maura's first birthday, I'm proud to report that she is toward the front of the pack developmentally, despite a curious and frequent habit of smacking herself about the head. I have to admit though, that as parents we still have a few opportunities. There are certain expectations to be met nowadays before a baby turns one, and I will not be the deadbeat dad that thinks that he doesn't have to play by society's rules. Do you think Posh and Beck's babies would want to suffer the embarrassment of not being on the forefront of fashion? Do you think the Brangelina babies would prefer to not have mohawks? Very doubtful.

With such a late start there was only so much we could do, but I think Maura will still thank us for the effort when she's showing off at her birthday party. In hindsight we may have been a little hasty in our decisions about these irreversible procedures, but we're not going to bother ourselves with wondering if it was the right thing to do. We had to just make the call and commit to it and trust that it was best thing we could do for our baby.

You're welcome, Maura.