I bet that's about the Minnesota Association of Rogue Taxidermists.
Spike's Bitches 21 Gunn Salute
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
It is: [link]
Head of Goat, Tail of Fish, More Than a Touch of Weirdness
Published: January 3, 2005
Three artists in Minneapolis are trying to breathe new life into the art of preserving the dead. Dead animals, that is.
The three, Scott Bibus, Sarina Brewer and Robert Marbury, are passionate about taxidermy, a practice they consider an art form and one that they say has suffered from the bigotry of the art world and the provincialism of professional taxidermists. The artists call themselves the Minnesota Association of Rogue Taxidermists, and they are dedicated to exploring the artistic possibilities of stuffing and mounting animal remains - and not without a certain sly humor.
While some traditional taxidermists have applauded their efforts, the group has been criticized by the world's largest taxidermy
Moved to Beep Me.
Fun with Craigslist: What a deal!!
This is me, with Costco. Hmmm, need a bad of dry cat food - oooooh! Ninety-pack of applesauce! Fifty pounds of angel hair pasta! And who doesn't need batteries for things?
Whaddya mean, $246.53?!?!?!? For CAT FOOD?!?!?
Replace "dry cat food" with "baby formula," and Deb is me.
ION, I was very proud of myself last night, because I thought I had correctly replaced the bag on my vacuum cleaner. I didn't test the theory at the time because Annabel was already asleep.
Bear in mind that I'm the world's most mechanically inept person. I once destroyed a fax machine changing its toner cartridge. Instructional diagrams often confuse me if they're not accompanied by extensive written directions. (I never get confused by charts or graphs, though, unlike one of my former bosses. Somehow they're interpreted by my verbal brain, not my visual one. Go figure.) So things like changing a toner cartridge or a vacuum cleaner bag scare me a little, and I try to get other people to do them for me. But I've realized that's a wimpy, weak way to be, and I'm trying to get past it. Hence changing the bag myself instead of asking DH.
Just now I tried to vacuum the living room floor. For about five seconds all was well. Then it started making a whining noise and giving off a horrible burnt-rubber reek. I notice smoke along the bottom part of the cleaner, the part in actual contact with the carpet.
I turned it off and unplugged it. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with the bag--I checked, and it's still in there securely, and it's not near the area that was smoking. But still, I was messing with it last night.
So, I have two questions:
1. What are the odds it's not my fault?
2. What are the odds we won't need a new vacuum cleaner?
Could you have vacuumed something that shouldn't be vacuumed, Susan? Like a rubber band or something?
That's always possible. We try to watch for things like rubber bands or anything else that might tempt Annabel to eat them, but there's always the chance we missed something.
Aww, I'm loading all my music from college onto the laptop. Memory lane. Britney Spears is on. The rule was, when studying, if this song came on, we had to put down the books, pound an entire can of Surge, and dance like monkeys for the duration of the song.
Sometimes I'm so surprised I lived through college.
Fucking disability paperwork. They want the dates of every hospitalization since 8/1/2003. They want every doctor I've seen since 8/1/2003. I have no freaking clue.
They want the dates of every hospitalization since 8/1/2003. They want every doctor I've seen since 8/1/2003.
Oh, god, I know that paperwork. The ones I've filled out say "all hospitalizations and treatments". It always goes to extra pages. I've had to start keeping a log.