For a Friend

If you still hear complaints about not shaving your legs, you haven't repurposed your razor properly.

Fractal Cutlery

I just got a not-very-subtle email that ever-so-slightly hints that my darling hubbypooh might want some of these, if they actually existed, which thankfully they do on account of us living in a fictional universe, HAH HAH HAH to certain authors who have to go without!

Fractal Cutlery

Via BoingBoing

And It’s Not Even My Birthday

To do list: 1. Buy a sword. 2. Name it Kindness. 3. Kill people with kindness.

Source (although spotted here).

Trishy Tree

So now there’s this:

This Awesome Urn Will Turn You into a Tree After You Die

Except that environmentally-friendly burial options have been around since at least the late 1990s (and that’s only counting after the fairly recent switch to non-environmentally friendly standards over the past couple of centuries). Local and state laws can sometimes be a problem, but it’s hardly a new thing. This new urn is just one designer’s take on it.

If you Google around for environmentally-friendly burial information, you’ll find a mix of articles about specific cemeteries opening up, some weird new-agey crap, and a lot of ultra-hip (and thus pricey) biodegradable coffins and urns. But there’s clearly demand and depending on where you live – or rather, stop living – you may have multiple options to shuffle your mortal coil. It’s definitely something you should consider when you’re doing planning for that sort of thing.

That being said, I find the entire concept of “becoming a tree” to be dorky. Unless I can be one of those pine trees that looks like it’s flipping everyone off (and I’m not the only one who sees it!), in which case, sign me up.

Why, that whole notion inspires me to rework some classic vomitous poetry:

I think that I shall never see
A dead body as lovely as a tree

A tree whose hipster urn will sit
Against the earth’s big floppy tit

A tree that looks at the FSM all day
And lifts her noodly branches to pray

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of hornets in her hair

Upon whose bosom snow has lain <--- seriously, this poet was obviously boob-obsessed Sprinkled yellow by dog-piss rain Rants are made by snarks like me But only Joyce Kilmer wrote this badly.


Welcome To My Life

Though 100 years is longer than a lot of our resources.

New blog!

I’m recreating this whole thing. ┬áMy previous blog is archived here in case you want to read some older articles, see my husband and I bantering, or find out why I had to move this whole project to a more personal space.

Please stay tuned while I make it all pretty and stuff. With stabby bits. Because it’s me.