Is it possible to be too careful around lightning? Before you answer that, take a minute to view this shocking video. It's a far more effective means of heightening awareness than any collection of lightning statistics I could present you.
Check out this guy if you're still not convinced.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Viewer Request
Yesterday I received a video request from a dedicated viewer who wanted to see a tribute/montage of the celebrities that have passed in the last week. My initial response was, "Whaddya think this is... TRL?!" The seed had been planted though, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to lay down yet another topical and poignant mash up of youtube vids.
Friday, June 26, 2009
It's All About Michael Jackson
I never imagined I would be blogging about Michael Jackson twice in a lifetime, let alone twice in a year. As you may recall, I poured out some recognition for MJ on his 5oth birthday, and now I want to dump out gallons of lumpy recognition for his passing. Truth be told, all I'm really going to do is embed this sweet youtube video compilation of moonwalks. I may have linked it before, I don't remember and I don't want to check. I wouldn't be surprised, because in my mind Michael Jackson is pretty much synonymous with the moonwalk. He may as well be called "The King of Moonwalk" as far as I'm concerned. When I watch him dance all I see is thrust, thrust...wiggle, funny leg kick, flail-spin, and then....
MOOOOOOOOOOOOOONWALK.
It's pretty much the most captivating and mystifying blend of dancing and witchcraft that has ever been seen by more than a tribe-sized group of people.
MOOOOOOOOOOOOOONWALK.
It's pretty much the most captivating and mystifying blend of dancing and witchcraft that has ever been seen by more than a tribe-sized group of people.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
It's All About Maura
I'm going to rely heavily on the tool of imagery this time to illustrate the past week's adventures. I'm going to start with today and work backward, largely because the most important of all these occurances took place this beautiful afternoon in our backyard.
Earlier, we tethered Maura into her new bike trailer and packed it with picnic fixin's for it's maiden voyage into majestic Irvine Park. Twas a pleasant ride and though I love carting her around, I couldn't help but draw a direct comparison to this.
Oh, and I caught a crawfish...but no other fish.
The next stop for the Delorean is last weekend at Governor Dodge State Park. The occasion is a reunion between the Brights and Scanlans that through the use of Cory's exceptional camping gear collection, culminates in the creation of possibly the most heinous fireside treat ever conceived. I give you the hamburger-marshmallow-chocolate chip cookie smore.
Dontcha just want s'more?!
You may get the impression that we had food to spare if this is the kind of crap going on. You're perception would be accurate, as we seemed to have a hobbit-like meal plan happening all weekend. For example, when Jodi and I showed up at camp at about 9 on Friday night, Cory had already used his dutch oven to prepare some kind of hobo stew for he and Mary earlier, and was just putting the finishing touches on his apple cobbler for dessert. The next morning the same dutch oven was used to brew up a "mountain man" breakfast made up of veggies, eggs, sausage, and wads of cheese equalling probably about 1000 calories per serving while coffee perked on the fire. How else are you gonna get your day started?
Glow sticks and beers were frequently cracked as we listened to spooky podcasts and thought of how consistent our camping activities were with other like-minded camping purists.
Maura walked.
I was gardening, Jodi was blowing bubbles...basically soakin' up the good life. I lifted Lil' Peepers to her feet, let her go, and watched her take about 6 steps toward mama. At that point our faces were frozen in amazement as we looked at each other thinking, "That just happened!" Of course I'd love to follow the story with a video capturing the phenomenon, but for whatever reason cameras are usually a repellent for such behavior. I'm sure the official footage will be coming soon.
Things were as they should be at the petting zoo.
As we travel back to yesterday, I'm standing on the rocks beneath the dam in Chippewa testing my angling finesse when I catch a glimpse of something gliding through the boiling water that I was almost sure was Nessie. After accepting the reality that I had just seen a 4-foot sturgeon it was but a moment later when I saw another prehistoric torpedo cruise past about a yard from the shore. I had heard of creatures like this living beneath dams, I just wasn't expecting to see a steady procession while I tried not to snag them with my lure. I can't remember a time while fishing that I was afraid to catch a fish, but this time I was definitely not prepared equipment-wise to do anything but watch my rod snap in the event that one of these guys took the bait.
Behold.
Behold. Oh, and I caught a crawfish...but no other fish.
The next stop for the Delorean is last weekend at Governor Dodge State Park. The occasion is a reunion between the Brights and Scanlans that through the use of Cory's exceptional camping gear collection, culminates in the creation of possibly the most heinous fireside treat ever conceived. I give you the hamburger-marshmallow-chocolate chip cookie smore.
Dontcha just want s'more?!You may get the impression that we had food to spare if this is the kind of crap going on. You're perception would be accurate, as we seemed to have a hobbit-like meal plan happening all weekend. For example, when Jodi and I showed up at camp at about 9 on Friday night, Cory had already used his dutch oven to prepare some kind of hobo stew for he and Mary earlier, and was just putting the finishing touches on his apple cobbler for dessert. The next morning the same dutch oven was used to brew up a "mountain man" breakfast made up of veggies, eggs, sausage, and wads of cheese equalling probably about 1000 calories per serving while coffee perked on the fire. How else are you gonna get your day started?
Glow sticks and beers were frequently cracked as we listened to spooky podcasts and thought of how consistent our camping activities were with other like-minded camping purists.
Then back another week or so, a peacock or some such bird walked though our backyard at around 9 or so and flew up to the branch of one of our trees to have a nice rest for whatever reason. It's almost as if he was thinking, "Here's a bit of delightful randomness to spice up your weeknight, Cullen." Unfortunately that little story didn't spice up this post so much.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
A Face You Can Trust
Hi, I'm Cullen from The Oak Lair, and you're gonna say "Wow!" when you see my new ShamWow video. It's like a towel, it's like a sponge, and some might even say it's like a chamois.
This isn't exactly fresh news, but Vince Shlomi, (yeah that's his real name) had an exciting night with an exciting gal back in March. You can get all the details here unless you would rather preserve the pristine image of the Vince you imagine spending long afternoons at the carnival with...or buying $20 dishtowels from. Maybe it's time you saw the truth behind Vince's honest, caring face. Or maybe it's time you moved on to another pitchman of who's integrity you can be assured.
This isn't exactly fresh news, but Vince Shlomi, (yeah that's his real name) had an exciting night with an exciting gal back in March. You can get all the details here unless you would rather preserve the pristine image of the Vince you imagine spending long afternoons at the carnival with...or buying $20 dishtowels from. Maybe it's time you saw the truth behind Vince's honest, caring face. Or maybe it's time you moved on to another pitchman of who's integrity you can be assured.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
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!
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!
Monday, April 27, 2009
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.
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!"
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