imagine me and you, and you and me

101Dalmatians_004Pikturz, originally uploaded by Pikturz.

I want to talk briefly about the absurd crush I have on Roger Radcliffe from Disney's 1961 version of One Hundred and One Dalmatians. He has many fine qualities, but I think the potent combination of being British, wearing sweater vests, having an all-consuming endearing obsession (music), and having a prominent nose is just the concoction that does me in. Supporting factors are his gangly 60s animated styling and the fact that he scowls in consternation more than once (these last bits are not exclusive to Roger in the pantheon of male Disney characters from the 1960s and 70s, but I think they are displayed most appealingly here). Also, pipe.

Maybe this is an unavoidable sequela from having been spoon-fed so many Disney movies as a child (like any true scion of America), although I can't explain why I would have gravitated so strongly towards the ones set in England. To elaborate: I have far less lasting fondness for Prince Eric, Aladdin, or Belle's Beast, despite owning all three films on VHS from an early age, and thus having watched them upwards of 10 times each, to give a conservative estimate. Those films served more to inculcate Disney's Template of Feminine Wiles in me than anything else - though it's fair to point out that the main protagonist in at least The Little Mermaid and Beauty & The Beast is the female character, so it only follows. Still, I feel nothing for Aladdin, compared with a wistful starry-eyed softness for Robin of Robin Hood (1973), who is not even a human being, and a similar feeling for Arthur/"Wart" from The Sword in the Stone (1963).

I don't really have a point to wrap this up, I'm just saying... Roger has some nice shoes (and socks), and a pipe. And floppy hair.

a thing like that!

Look, I know this is dumb. It's really dumb. I've been feeling a little over-excited today ever since I discovered that my favorite casual internet author of derived literary tribute fiction [read: fan fiction, yeah yeah I know but I did warn you] posted a story she'd started working on way back in 2004 [i.e. the actual era of my real dedication to fan fiction/desperation/incredible loserdom] and I read it and made some embarrassing noises. I'm dumb. Okay.

Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I kind of wish John Allison and Kate Beaton would get together and make delightful and ridiculous comic-producing babies. I'm not trying to push, here! And the fact that they are even friends is great (or at least, so I deduce from various tandem sketchwork scans posted on both blogs from time to time), and I ain't even tryna insinuate nothin'. I'm just saying. I have this tendency to want people to make out, is all.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a maathghrtjfj

what do you mean by barging in here and telling me your idea?

I found this incredible t-shirt for old salty ladies that reads "Not At Your Age" (at The Old Ladies Rebellion, via A Dress a Day). Jealous that I couldn't meaningfully wear it myself with the same punch, I began a Google hunt for other ridiculous platitudes, and began to ruminate on an ugly truth about myself:
I have considered for some time now that I may be a platitude fiend. Faced with a situation that cannot be dissected and adequately evaluated in a short time, I resort to a handful of substanceless rote sentences. Some of these are more illustrious than others, including those Patrick A. and myself perpetuate:
- "Time will tell!"

- "Who can say?"

- "Fate goes ever as she shall!"
and one I am becoming fond of, as used by a coworker: "It is what it is." See also: "Who knows, man. Who knows."

I just checked out the Wikipedia page on "platitudes," though, and noticed a linked article on "thought-terminating cliches," which I scanned with a dawning sense of hideous recognition. THIS is what I do. Perhaps not as strong as actively quashing disagreement, or supporting blatant fallacy, but I certainly derail in-depth examination (or perseveration) on topics by means of these convenient bits of nonsense.
In my defense, most of the time I drop these suckers into conversation, I feel a sense of defeat and shame that I couldn't muster up anything more meaninful to offer. But, I think we all do this to some extent. Eventually, you reach the point of exhaustion for analysis of a given topic, at least within the confines of polite conversation. For office conversations, this point is approximately 30 seconds after the topic is begun, in the case of certain coworkers. But you need to summarize the situation somehow, and that's where a thought-terminating (and conversation-ending!) cliche is most handy.
I suppose I'll give myself permission to continue hobbling on this crutch, at least until I attain the psychosocial skills of a charismatic genius. Then I shall say only dazzling specimens of wit, and do away with this "who can say" silliness. I can say, bitches!

jesus everything is hilarious this morning

I am trying to select an appropriate array of comics to print out and tape to my surrounding vertical surfaces, just like a good office drone. The trouble is that every effing Achewood comic from my assetbar profile is making me bust the hell up. Ditto several Dinosaur Comics. WHAT TO DO?
[Aside from conspicuously wipe the tears from my eyes and snorffle awkwardly in an attempt to inhale my own laughter at "Lyle threatens to play the trumpet with his cock," I mean.]

There is no work to be done today for me, so I am sitting around feeling anxious that I'm neither doing work nor helping out on phone coverage. The old hats around here make it sound like it's easy pie to type out 6 dictations a day, but of course I am shitting myself with the certainty that this will be an insurmountable task for me, because the secret truth is I am terrible at deciphering speech and kind of a mediocre typist! Honestly. I'm really maybe better than average at typing, but I am the guy who overhears friends talking about "how badly an American goes down in a German" and meeting with plovers for band practice. Except I am a lady.

Fate goes ever as she shall, you guys!