on children's shows

i was babysitting a toddler the other day and because we are wasteful, the television was on pretty much the whole time. also because i couldn't find the remote. (i know, i know, i could've turned it off by the side of the tv. shut up.)

it was on nick junior or disney junior or whatever. one of those kids channels that seem to be training children to speak to the tv box. and the only time i've seen a kid answer is when they are trying to show off to me that they know the answer. even toddlers dismiss dora's sing-along.

advertising, though: apparently there are seasons for children's shows. and as a commercial, bubble guppies (okay this show is like mermaids but more creepy in a childish way) did a music video. p-p-pencil case. as in a parody of lady gaga. 

the result was strange.

http://youtu.be/53MRkIYP6kU

children's shows are weird. 

open letter to caves

you're dead. okay, you're not dead. but y'know, rocks being alive and growing is a weird thing, but apparently you do it anyway. is that respectful of nature? i don't know. do you care? nah. you're just limestone that makes really nice looking sculptures.

i once went spelunking with a camp group. i suppose this is like delving into the cave organs and hitting them. you probably had intestinal pains that night. sorry about that.

there were ten of us in that group. i don't remember really any of them specifically because i'm self-absorbed and never actually wrote or kept in touch with any of them, despite that i probably told them i would. but i do remember that a part of the group was really surprised that we'd get dirty in the cave. i mean muddy. because, you know, caves are made of mud. you are made of mud. sorry about that. cleanliness has become something we appreciate.

i wore a christmas shirt, one of those ones your grandma gives you in november because she saw it at target and thought that everyone wants a shirt that has a reindeer pun on it. and cave mud is impossible to remove, for the most part. i like to think that the girls who wore their matching camp t-shirts still wear them today with the stains all over them. i hope they have a good story.

but when i went spelunking through your organs, cave, the guide talked a lot about things like cave kisses and good luck and all. apparently, for each drop of water the cave lets on you, you have a year of good luck. this is more of cave drool. but it's good drool.

really, cave, you're the only one who could drool on someone and still have them make it out into some kind of romantic sentiment of good charm and luck.

And the rockets reckling...

scene: 8th grade english class. the teacher asks us to write out the star-spangled banner. because, you know, we are good americans and know the national anthem. sure, you hear it at baseball games, and other sports events just to remind the crowd that, yes, this mindless gravitation towards people throwing spheres at each other and celebrating how far that sphere goes, is purely american. we are american, let's sing and shoot each other.

i'd say i had most of the lyrics correct. but you know, you just hear these things. so i wrote "and the rockets reckling, the bombs bursting in air..." because "reckling" meant like sizzling and spattering out. turns out it's not a word. my teacher wasn't impressed. it's red glare, she said. red glare. how boring. 

may your day be reckling with happiness. 

On Dictionary Definitions

Always helpful. 

My version, utilizing a false word that comes about from lack of sleep.

I have a (goobleck) of cats.

What's a (goobleck)?

You know, like a (goobleck) quanity. 

Oh, got it. 

Explaining the Title of this Blog

(dedicated to hannah walters)

(of course)

a bird pooped on me. too juvenile. a bird shitted on me. sounds like a seventh grader just learned a new word. a bird shat on me. there we go. nice and professional verbage change. 

evidently dinosaurs were basically the lovechild of a chicken and an crocodile. (don't overthink this for your own sake, please). so when a bird shits on you, it's like god is telling you that you are no different than a mouse being shat on by a t-rex. (speaking of which, a nebraska man once changed his name to tyrannosaurus rex because it was 'cooler' than his given name. i like to think his given name was something like frank. that would explain a lot) you are insignificant, but lucky enough to be lucky enough to be in the spot exactly where bird waste happens to fall. kinda amazing physics, man. 

they say that if water in a cave drops on you, it's kissing you. if a bird shits on you, it's good luck.

may you be shat on by all of the birds.