"Valentine's Day made me think of it..."

(above) a line by Hannibal Lector to Agent Starling...
"I can make you very happy on Valentine's Day..."

I was thinking about Raspail’s car and heads in jars when I was meandering Google today (wouldn’t THAT make a quaint love poem!)…I can smell the old oil, mouse droppings & dust emitting from that neglected mini-storage facility… and the mannequin with its fly open and a book of Valentines….Next Saturday I must work in the a.m., but that’s ok—I’ve never been one to get all fired up over flowers, candy, Valentine’s Day or my birthday—how ironic I was born on a day associated with a ‘saint’, as irreverent about religion as I am. On Wikipedia (hmmmf), one random story says “Saint Valentine upon rejection by his mistress was so heartbroken that he took a knife to his chest and sent her his still-beating heart as a token of his undying love… Hence heart-shaped cards are now sent as tribute for overwhelming passion and suffering…” Ha! How odd that John Q. is on TV at this very moment--a doctor has jabbed his finger into the open chest cavity of a young boy, poking his heart into action. ba-bump. ba-bump. Also strange this 'asian' antique postcard reiterates John Q., proclaiming ‘New Hearts for Old’ –one of the first examples that popped up when I was looking for some on Google. (Postcards, not hearts.) Ah, coincidences abound.

Never one that enjoys red roses (ick—I like pink varieties), I once received a huge bouquet of flowers with ferns & babies breath (from an awesome friend who was pretty much as relationship-wary as me). Soon, mysteriously, all that remained were lonely green stems as bare as the bones on a skeleton’s hand. I was left with mere sticks—my toddler had eaten every single delectable petal and I had to call the Poison Control hotline. Happy Birthday to me.I often receive combo Birthday/V-Day Victorian cards with cute little cherubs, cupids, large-eyed children, vintage floral, lace and beribboned designs and I think they’re all quite lovely… probably quite similar to Clarice’s find on the backseat of Benjamin's old Packard.

Again searching...how peculiar! Behold ‘Cupid the Cook’ Valentine: I find it extremely disturbing... reverberates with cannibalistic recipe terror much like this Silence of the Lambs youtube of the Man himself...

How would you like a nice warm heart with orange blossoms???
[or sauteed brains]

and now I give you your vivid portrait of sociopathic single-mindedness (with which copfriend will say...leave it to B to tie in holiday love & romance with brilliant serial killers):
I know if you click, you'll shudder!!!

Happy Valentine's Day.

Polamalu

Ahhhh. Long hair.

You don't even have to see his face to know he's cute....
but I'll post it anyway......

Ducky's Not a Cat, He's an Ass!

Jesse brought Brigg home Saturday after they’d hauled back his load of wood from the Petersons’—and they happened to see a cat leap onto the sidewalk out of the trailer. Brigg warned me that our cat population may have possibly increased—much to my dismay!

Home alone (usual for my Saturday night), I had just wiped my teary eyes as I flipped the TV channel away from one of Sarah McLachlan’s miserable ‘Arms of an Angel’ Pet commercials—you know, those piteously forlorn animals that invoke immense feelings of guilt as they peer sad-eyed and frightened on the screen… I can’t watch them (never mind that genuine HUMAN children undergo the same deprivation, torture, and neglect—take a look at last week’s prize father that impregnated his poor 13 year old daughter 4 times, killing and burying each baby [except the last] in beer coolers in the yard just over the state line…).

Sadly lacking entertainment I find myself blogging about the loud meows that began right after I’d settled in to watch The DaVinci Code, so I jumped up (oh poor, poor kitty!) and coaxed the scared little thing into my arms and into the house where it promptly released its hugging, fuzzy paws from around my neck and bolted under the couch. I could tell right away it was a ‘Peterson Cat’ because they are about ½ the size of real cats and have somewhat shorter tails—many years of intense barnyard inbreeding—their miniature size is quite delightful and a fluke of nature when you think about it.

Quite proud that I’d caught kitty with little effort—it seemed like it desperately adored me on the porch; I made a quick phone call and soon discovered that this was a beige SATAN. I described its short golden hair, white bib and socks and was asked if its eyes looked reddish-brown. As it peeked at me, I saw indeed, they were a strange color…. “That’s Ducky…and he’s a horrible horrible cat. Mean. Terrible. Tries to rip out eyes. Tears up the other cats. Hoping the coyotes would get him. Ugh. Too bad he didn’t jump into the river. Maybe he’ll run away….”

Oh. This certainly put a new light on the situation as I carefully scooped up the feline psychopath and doubtfully dumped him into the elements. Still feeling chivalrous though, I poured a bowl of food and saw firsthand Ducky fly into a manic rage as Ursula, and then an unknown small black and white cat ventured around the corner (“2 Peterson Cats?” I thought incredulously).
Deranged Ducky swiped and yowled and growled at anything and everything and I had even placed food in 3 different locations around the yard so they didn’t have to share. Ah. Enlightenment. Talk about ‘biting the hand that feeds it’. He’s still showing up this evening and ripping into everything that crosses his path despite his diminutive size. Where does this scene proceed?? It seems he's a little jerk!

Homeless

Once, trying to get an idea for a "Man in a Box" drawing (about the only AliceinChains song that doesn't 'grate' on me), I used pencil (blah) to sketch this failure of an idea. The 'box' isn't right, the composition is horrid, the man's too small--he should be tortorously crammed in there...very unpleasantly. and look forlorn or something.

A (former Wamegoan) Model.

My daughter has informed me that one of her classmates is on the online version of Cabela's catalog. I've seen him a few times in the actual catalog since Brig seems to get them monthly.

Wearing the yellow ski coat; it's fun to see a face you know!

(Afterthought: Brig's girlfriend's little sis has a modeling contract with some agency in Chicago...,...and let's not forget the time that Nate got to spend the afternoon photo-session posing with all the Laker Girls!)

The Antique...

Yeah! Today is payday, so I can Christmas shop tomorrow after work...but I did run out to the gun dealer's and pick up the new OLD inexpensive 'toy'. (It's been absolutely ridiculous with men racing about snatching up all guns in site sending prices sky-high for certain types + their ammo... 'Obama, blah blah, gun control, blah blah, don't wanna lose my guns, blah blah' is insane--like there's not plenty of other stuff for this country to worry about besides THAT. Oh brother.)

Anyway, it IS pretty cool, especially with the bayonet attached and it came with little ancient accessories all packed in Baba Yaga's earwax. Absentmindedly though, I forgot the camera so I found a online pic to post and a page of humor (as a woman, I am proud to say that I understood all the statements and was tickled by that! So there.) Merry Christmas!

Have a Junky Christmas!

I inverted a corner of my current sketch and rather liked the darkness...thought the plant looked like some type of sci-fi glowing Holiday Tree. And lets not forget old tires gifting the landscape.