What's Happening ?

Not much in my end of the world. Well, that's not quite true. I was sick to a certain extent all last week and went to the doctor. Without getting into a bunch of stuff it all comes down to more diet and exercise. Sounds easy, huh?

Well with the not-snacking thing in mind I have been playing around with the polymer clay with renewed abandon.

I bought a great book by Dinko Tilov (who has a great name at any rate) and you'll see my renditions of Dinko characters soon. Most of them have a little Eric twist to them but most are simply copies so that I can learn techniques. Yes, there are techniques to play-doh.

It's satisfying to get things wrong, wrong, wrong, then right. I can definitely tell the difference in brands and types of polymer clay now. I have made myself a tool or two and have found the store-bought ones that actually work. Although there's something fun about having a pasta machine near my computer desk, I'm doing more actual sculpting so I use the machine less and less (no need for flat clay or straight lines).

Thanks to J-Bro, I'm listening to Peeping Tom's single "Sucker" in between my favorite Tom Waits songs (they are nothing alike). Peeping Tom is the new project of the lead singer from Faith No More and this single features Norah Jones saying dirty words. Love it! Thanks J!

As far as Tom Waits… it's all good. I can't get enough of "Eyeball Kid" and "Chocolate Jesus" and "Jockey Full of Bourbon" and "Time" and "Clap Hands" and "Blind Love." Oh and "Big in Japan."

If you've never heard "Eyeball Kid," here are the lyrics. But you really need to hear it to get the whole feel. It's funny and creepy and yet will make you think.

Well Zenora Bariella
And Coriander Pyle
They had sixteen children
In the usual style
They had a curio museum
And they had no guile
All they ever wanted
Was a show biz child
So on the 7th of Dec. 1949
They got what
They'd been wishing for
All of the time
He grew up in a trailer
By the time he was 9
He rolled off to join
The circus... telling fortunes
On the side

Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid

Well the first time I saw him
Was a Saigon jail
Cost me 27 dollars
Just to go his bail
I said your name will
Be in lights...
And that's no doubt
But you got to have
A manager that's what
It's all about
People would point
People would stare
I'll always be here
To protect you and to
Cut down on the glare
I know you can't speak
I know you can't sign
So cry right here on
The dotted line

Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid

Well he was born with out a body
Not even a brow
I made the kid a promise
I made the kid a vow
He's not conventionally handsome
He'll never be tall
He said "all you got to do is
Book me into Carnegie Hall"

Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid

He's just a little bitty thing
He's just a little guy
But women go crazy
For the big blue eye
They say how does he
Dream? How does he think
When he can't ever speak
And he can't ever blink?

I said Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid
Hail Hail, the Eyeball kid

Give it up and throw me down
A couple of quid
Everybody wants to see
The Eyeball kid

How dies he dream
How does he think
When he can't even speak
And he can't even blink
We are all lost in the
Wilderness we're as
Blind as can be
He came down to teach us
How to really see

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

So give it up and throw
Me down a couple of quid
Everybody wants to see
The Eyeball kid
Eyeball kid
Eyeball kid

What's happening with you?

This Week's Tenant: Recommended

In her words:

This blog is about the many things I discover online every day. Rantings and personal opinions included. Enjoy your stay and visit again!
-t-

The -t- is Tina, or positronic, and she's from Berlin, Germany.

Check her out, she gets some amazing amounts of traffic from this Blog Rental thing so I hope not to disappoint her. Really. Go there now!

Does A Bear Poop In The Woods ?

Well, as evidenced by an accident in the outskirts of Los Anchorage today, it will poop on the road if it is under the influence of a Ducati S2R.

Yes, a motorcycle vs. bear accident. Do you get a lot of those where you live? I swell with hometown pride (although not in a creepy way).

In the paper / scissors / rock world of collisions, apparently Ducati beats black bear.

The scenario: the biker, travelling 65-70mph crests a hill on what could only be described as a "country road," paved but pot-holed and no shoulders. On the other side of the hill is a black bear who is unaware he is about to become one with the Ducati legend.

Whoomp!

The damage to the rider: broken collar bone.

The damage to the Ducati? Nothing except it was a hair transplant recipient on the handlebars.

Damage to the bear: Undetermined since it fled the scene but it left a bunch of poop in the road. The bike literally knocked the crap out of the bear.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Kelli before and a year and a quarter after weight loss surgery.

I know the surgery is controversial but she's so much happier (and as beautiful inside and out as ever).

So Funny You Might Pee Two Drops

This post brought to you by the letter "T"

Check out this: The Gatorade Conspiracy

Really. It's hilarious.

For the short attention span crowd, you don't even have to read the post, just look at the pictures.

If you comment, tell 'em The Panic Blog sentcha.

This Week's Tenant: Imagination MADNESS

This is a blogger with a mysterious story to tell. Here's how she describes herself:

About Me

Name:Shy

Location:Hilversum, Netherlands

Who is Tracey (Shy)? I am an Aussie living in The Netherlands (Holland some of you people call it) I am 31 and a mother of a lovely little girl who turns 7 this year! My hobbies are anything to do with craft. Things I do to much of that is unhealthy? Whining about my ex and thinking of payback!

Go visit her and see what she's up against!

Imagination MADNESS,
Madness takes its toll. Please have exact change

Stranger Dangers

I was surfing around the news sites and I came upon a story involving
the dangers of pedicures.

According to the devil, er, I mean FOXNews,

“… recently in Fort Worth, Texas, … a wrongful death suit claimed a woman
died after contracting antibiotic-resistant Staphylococcus aureus following a
pedicure at a local nail salon.

This incident…parallels another, even more widespread calamity that occurred when 110 people who received pedicures at a Santa Cruz, Calif. nail salon contracted a potentially dangerous infection causing treatment-resistant skin abscesses and boils.”

Vanity, thy name is Flesh Eating Bacteria.

Oh and in the same article, here’s some good advice with regard to Botox and chemical peels:

“never have an antiaging treatment in someone's garage, basement, at
an ‘injectable party,’ or in a hotel room.”

Actually, if you attend an “Injectable Party” then you might just deserve what you get.

But that’s just me.

Lights Out Everybody

People have always been entertained by being told creepy stories.

Think of the novel or screenplay writers who have made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Are you thinking of Stephen King, Clive Barker, Rod Serling, or Alfred Hitchcock?

Before these masters there was another person you might not have heard of:

Arch Obler

Crazy Dog Audio Theater Masterpiece Gallery describes him thusly:

"American radio’s premier horror series Lights Out began in 1934 and was soon taken over by the legendary Arch Obler the following year. Arch Obler is widely recognised as one of the best writers for audio of all time. He once famously insisted that ‘I write about human beings, not special effects’.

Obler’s work with Lights Out makes this series the precursor of TV shows like Rod Serling’s ‘Twilight Zone’. Part of Obler’s strength was in writing one-to-one, on a personal level, always aiming directly at the individual listener. For example he would write: ‘In a horrific time, in a horrible world, I have been asked to try and horrify you---all in fun, of course. … Now I know that you're not a person who is easily frightened. Monsters, ghosts, the dead. Who gets scared of that sort of thing anymore? You don't. Or do you?…’ "

His show began with a bell sounding thirteen times. In between the tolls of the bell and starting with the fourth toll the following words are spoken in a deep sonorous voice:

"It – is – later – than – you – think,"

followed by Mr O himself saying,

"This is Arch Obler bringing you another of our series of tales of the unusual and once again we caution you these Lights Out stories are not for the timid soul so we tell you calmly and very sincerely, if you frighten easily, turn off the radio now."

A gong clashes and the story begins.

These stories are great. Okay, so not all of them hit the mark but neither did all of the Twilight Zone episodes or Alfred Hitchcock Presents. But most of them stand the test of time 60 and 70 years later.

I just received 6 CDs of old radio shows from Darryl Hawkins at Old Time Radio including all of the Arch Obler recordings. Fantastic.

Where will you find me in the next couple of weeks during my spare time?
Oh yes, I'll be thrilling to the tales of the supernatural and the supernormal.

With the lights out, everybody.

You're so vain, you probably think this plate is about you

(note: all the plates I mention are Alaska plates. The pictures listed are provided because the state DMV will not display a vanity plate which has already been taken).

Yesterday someone encountered a license plate that only a few of us (me included) laughed at. Perhaps I’m just twisted.

Last week a coworker gave out a locate for a hit and run suspect vehicle. It wasn’t until she had spoken the plate during the broadcast that she realized what it meant. She was mortified to be taken in so easily.


Then there is my favorite Alaska plate which is still driving around town as if it were the most normal thing in the world.


And here’s my plate.


Then there is a fantasy plate, just for fun:

Dictionary Moment

Welcome to this edition of “Dictionary Moment” at the Panic Blog, brought to you today by the letter ‘Z.’

Z takes a call from a concerned citizen who wants to report his former buddy for drugs. Halfway through the conversation the caller says,

Caller: “…this guy, he’s got so much drugs, I’m talking about a LOT.”

Z: “On him?”

Caller: “Yep, he keeps it in…um… under his, y’know, scruples.”

Z: “You mean in his pants?”

Caller: “Yep. In his pants under his scruples.”

evidentally these are scruples

Later in the conversation the caller says,

Caller: “You have to get there fast, he has lots of girlfriends, crack ho’s, and they’ll keister the drugs for him. You know what I mean, keister, right?”

Z: “I think I can figure that one out. So he found more than one girl who will do this for him, huh?”

evidentally this is how one would start the de-keisterization process

In conclusion, chilluns, the lesson is this:

Girls may have no scruples but if you can find one who will keister your drugs, she’s a keeper!

This week's tenant: The Power of Denial

I like this blog. She describes herself as:

i have an IQ that rivals Einstein's, but instead of using my powers for good, i wreak havoc on the internet...and i like weasels.

She also misses poop colored M&Ms. You have to appreciate that. Go there now. It's some funny stuff!

I Don’t Know Much About Song Lyrics

I’m a smart guy. Ask me, I’ll tell you.

But every time I think I’m especially smart, it becomes crushingly obvious that I don’t know shit from Shinola.


This morning I’m singing in the shower (not loud, we live in a duplex) the Queensryche version of Scarborough Fair. Geoff Tate has such a great voice. I don’t. Yet I sing on.


So my genius idea was, instead of the traditional second line of the song, replace it with

“Lord won’t you buy her a Mercedes Benz;
parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Her friends all have Porsches, I must make amends;
then she’ll be a true love of mine.”

It works. Okay, not exactly genius, but it works.

So there’s where the ignorance smacked me in the face like a loufa (or a falafel, if you are in the no spin zone).

I remember those “background lyrics” in the Simon and Garfunkel song which are not in the Queensryche version. All I remember is something like:

“Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
(blah blah blah blah blah, deep forest green),
Parsely, sage, rosemary,
and thyme…”

Of course this would translate to:

Lord won’t you buy her a Mercedes Benz
(blah blah blah blah blah rich leather seats)
Parsely, sage, rosemary,
and thyme…”

But to alter the lyrics, I had to find out the real lyrics. And was amazed at the darkness found within.

Here are the lyrics (as found on the internet):

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there,
she was once a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
(On the side of a hill in the deep forest green).
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground).
Without no seams nor needlework
(Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain).
Then she'll be a true love of mine
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call).

Tell her to find me an acre of land
(On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves).
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Washes the ground with so many tears).
Between salt water and the sea strand
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun).
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather
(War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions).
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Generals order their soldiers to kill).
And gather it all in a bunch of heather
(And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten).
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there,
she was once a true love of mine.

Does anyone know about this second part? Is it a canticle in the sense of a Catholic sacred song?

This is the crap that will keep me up late at night. Oh yeah and finding the third and fourth songs to throw into the mix before going back to the repeat of the first verse.

This Week's Tenant: Stumbling Through Life With Grace

Here's what she says about her blog:


Now go clickey. Go on. Right HERE.

C'mon, it's chalk FULL of verbose banalities. Your read MY blog, you like verbose banalities. And, might I add, a little profanity here and there.