Month: October 2011

Happy Halloween from a Punk in a Garfield Shirt

As mentioned previously, this introvert did used to dress up for Halloween without any hang ups about it. In that post, I mentioned two costumes: Wonder Woman and Punk Rocker. Since I’m visiting my mom, I could dig up the pictures for a better context.

I thought my mom had made the Wonder Woman costume, but she didn’t. She made many other costumes, though. For this costume, my dad made the bracelets and the headpiece out of coat hangers, cardboard, and aluminum foil-y paper stuff. They were so well-made, my sister wore them years later. My dad was awesome.

I was on a roll getting a picture with every single type of candy I scored until my stupid parents shut down the project.

A few years later, we enter the lazy bones era of Halloween costuming. I was a “punk rocker” for several years, and the costume was pretty consistent every year. It was so convincing – let’s just see if you can pick me out between these two pictures:

One is me and one is Sid Vicious. Look closely, and you will see some subtle differences that will reveal the answer.

This is actually a “Madonna fan with sensible, responsible parents” costume. But, somehow, “punk rock” was always the descriptor. It’s probably what started all the “Avril Lavigne is a punk rocker” bullshite. I’ve created this chart to help you create an actual punk rocker costume:

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Saturday Morning Ridiculousness: Super Friends S1 Ep7

This is part of my weekly Saturday Morning installment dedicated to archiving and commenting on the wonderful “what else can we put in here to make it an hour” ridiculousness that is the cartoon series, Super Friends.

Season 1 – Episode 7: “Too Hot to Handle”

Airdate was October 20, 1973.

The Super Friends consist of Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Batman, and Robin. Wendy, Marvin, and Wonder Dog are the “Junior Super Friends.” They haven’t made partner yet. They also have no super powers other than Wonder Dog’s ability to almost speak.

Short Synopsis: The Gotham City Museum is under attack by, “an enormous undulating ivy plant.” The wax figures in The Justice League Hall of Fame and Photo Exhibit (yes.) are melting! And, the glaciers are melting – again. In summary, there’s a heat wave. For some reason (I wasn’t paying attention), the Super Friends have to figure out how to stop the “drift of the earth” toward the sun. This is all happening because yet again, an alien race has decided to move to Earth.

Uh, ok, will do.
“You must preserve your body moisture until I get back” – Wonder Woman

It’s the 7th episode, and the writers are already this lazy.
“I’d like you to meet Professor Von Know-a-lot”

Yeah, I used to go there, but now it’s just a big tourist trap.
I made a brochure for the latest, greatest way to learn about Super Friends’ adventures and have fun all at once:

WTF Screenshots
To save the museum, Batman and Robin “turn the ivy in on itself,” which somehow makes it completely separate from the museum and creates giant chia-pet-like ball:

Here’s the entrance to The Pendulum Room at the local observatory:


Superman is Big on Details
Narrarator: Returning to Justice League Headquarters, Superman tells of his encounter with the Solar Robot.
Superman: It was some kind of remotely controlled Solar Robot.

I don’t wanna do it. Let’s call Flash.
The Super Friends recruit The Flash to do all the work, help. Here he is putting back together the Taj Mahal all by himself:

And here he is, uh, ok, I’m not really sure what this is, but whatever it is, The Flash thinks it’s fabulous:

If you would like to witness these shenanigans in all their glory, the first season of Super Friends is available on DVD.

Pictures from Disney World, Which You Wouldn’t Know if I Didn’t Tell You

Everyone knows what Cinderella’s castle looks like. Plus, screw her and her fancy schmancy high-value location abode. Instead, here’s a random selection of things I found worthy of photographing. And I promise this is the last of squeezing content from the Orlando stone.

These were "pay phones." You used to use them to make phone calls. Now, they are used to decorate awesome dinoaur/Route 66-themed restaraunts.
Speaking of vintage dinosaurs, someone please find me this pink ceramic stegosaurus ceramic cookie jar. Christmas is right around the corner.
Here's a picture of me, holding my charging phone and a ball of light, wearing my Shaun of the Dead shirt.
I want the phrase "nine pound lemons" to replace "brass balls."
This dragon dressed as a skunk farted in our faces and made us miss the Touch and Taste segment of the 5 senses tour. Then we had to see him taking a bath on the ceiling of his home. It was a whole ordeal.
If I had focused as hard at school as I did helping out Buzz Lightyear, I may have been a better student.
This pair of Chip and Dales were from the future. They were looking for someone named John Connor.

 

Disney World has Winnie the Pooh, Universal has Poo

WARNING: This post is about excrement. Or poo. Doody. The Brown Menace. Whatever you want to call it. And, I call it shit, so that word is smeared all over this post.

DISCLAIMER: This is based on MY experience. I’m sure people also shit all over Disney World bathroom floors, I just didn’t see it. I also decided to give teenagers the benefit of the doubt and assumed it was a grown-ass adult who did it.

Universal Studios has a whole “we’re not Disney” spin and vibe to their theme parks. It’s really the best way to go. Their Halloween parties are actually meant to be scary, they have more thrill-oriented roller coaster, etc. Disney focuses a lot on “experience.” So I always think of Disney as polished and Universal as a little rough around the edges, which isn’t a bad thing. Until I see shit on the floor.

And, I know, these are theme parks. People are drinking vats of soft drinks and eating more liquid cheese than they do on average. Public restrooms aren’t pretty, and theme park restrooms are expected to be a certain level of unpleasant. I have been lucky enough in my life to never have a job that involves cleaning bathrooms, so to everyone who ever has had a job like that, I would like to say: if there is any special place in heaven for any kind of person, I hope with all my heart that you are the people designated.

I’ve seen a lot, even in my not-having-to-clean-up-human-shit-innocence. I’ve seen the unholy trinity – pee, poop, and sanitary products – swirled together in a mélange of “there is no God” combinations and artistry that makes you wonder if life is worth continuing with. But this was something, what’s the opposite of “divine?”

It was a nice, big dollop of a turd, about one foot from a pristinely clean toilet. It wasn’t the usual “whoa, things really got out of hand” scene where there was an obvious attempt, at least at first, of getting it all in the toilet. No. This was there, just mocking the whole idea of toilets and all the rules placed around using the bathroom that keeps this delicate society together. It said “Yeah, there’s a toilet a foot away, and you know what? I’m doing juuust fine right here, buddy.” Here’s is my recreation of the vision:

I turned the corner of the stall, saw it, slowly backed away, and went to the furthest stall from it I could find. Then, I got to hear other people’s reactions to it because it was in an open-door stall, like a crowded public bathroom siren. The first one I heard was a lady with her kid. I heard “Oh, gosh, no. C’mon, this way. Ugh, people can be so…indiscrete.” I don’t know if this lady is the nicest human being on the planet and that’s truly the meanest thing she could come up with, if she was censoring in front of her kid, or if her brain got jumbled from the sight and that was the first thing that came up, but “indiscrete” isn’t how I would put it.

When I told my husband about it, he pondered how that person could afford to be in Universal Studios, which I have demonstrated with this diagram:

And, I’m also not completely delusional. I know what I saw isn’t even the worst of the infractions that occur when some people decide they need to go. I actually think this particular violation is probably only in the 75th percentile of indiscrete-ness: