Vaguely Urban

Friday Flotsam XXXI

Like everyone else, I'm pretty much in an Olympics-induced sleep deprivation stupor.  Seriously, I've probably committed malpractice any number of times this week, and certainly I should not be behind the wheel of any functioning automobile.  There are dishes in the sink, I haven't made the bed in days, and the bags under my eyes will serve nicely if I want to avoid plastic grocery sacks at the market.

It's been so so so worth it.  I love an opening ceremony that cost more than the GDP of many nations, and puts every penny to jawdroppingly stunning use.  I love the technology that takes you from air straight underwater with the divers and then shows their trajectories in a time-lapsed overlay.  I love how watching Kobe alley-oop to Lebron James makes me go really really fast on the elliptical machine.  I love Shawn Johnson and Kerri and Misty, and Michael Phelps.  I REALLY love me some Aaron Piersol, and wouldn't kick Eamon Sullivan out of bed for eating crackers.

Live, on three hour tape delay, it's all Olympics, all the time round these parts, and promises to stay as such for the next 9 days.  Go USA!

Friday Flotsam: XXX meets 08.08.08

So when your teams are are Bejing-bound? And you wanna Triple XXX throw down?  Dial 1-800-Vaguely Urb, and kick them nasty thoughts.

Really what goes together better than Olympics and porn?

Sadly, I have not much of porn to report, being a respectable married lady and all.  Ummmm.. Dave and I got a new bed and christened it?  Married sex!  WOOOOO!

OH!  I know!  I got a shot of a bunch of asses from Dave's 30th birthday in Vegas, with hand silk-screened XXX undie favors in effect:

Not very Olympicky, I know.  But very XXXy.

In the end (see what I did there?), probably the best interface of Olympics and Porn is a little story Tasterspoon told me during the Athens Olympics.  Apparently the good organizers of Athens had thoughfully placed BARRELS of condoms around the Olympic Village for the athletes to deploy when they were unable to resist the allure of so many competition-ready bodies.  Like so many holy water fonts.  Except not very Catholic at all.

The 'Spoon told me that the barrels were empty by the end of the first week.  Apparently the swimmers were constantly up in each others' business.

Friday Flotsam XXIX

I already posted for real this week, y'all, so here is some OG flotsam posties:

• Ginger has been sick all week, poor little bugger.  It's been torture to watch her feel so miserable.  Also, I've been cleaning up a lot of dog vomit and diadookie.  So has Dave.  After two vet visits, blood work, x-rays, subcutaneous fluid, and four (count 'em) prescriptions, she seems to be truly on the mend.  Basically, she seriously bruised her hip ligaments jumping off our bed - ignoring the steps, natch - and then the pain meds wreaked havoc on her digestive system.  She is a delicate flower, see.  Our relief over her recovery is boundless. 
• Happy Birthday, B.  I Wii-ly love your peaches, wanna shake your tree, girl.  (p.s.  It's the XXIXth Flotsam.  Coincidence?  hardly.) 
• I love Facebook.  Send me an email or leave a comment if you want to be my Facebook friend.
• My Facebook love is diminished a little by the sadness I feel when I see the random people from my high school who have gotten fat. Not that I'm some waif.  It just bums me out that all those trim 16 year olds have doubled in both age and weight (None of my Facebook friends is included in this class, incidentally)
• I had two cases settle within one day this week.  That means my workload just got massively reduced.  That means I am very happy.
• I'm still vegan-ish, and mostly caffeine- and gluten- free, but I did have a glass or so of wine last night.  Turns out that wine is really delicious. 
• Here is a photo of an effed up license plate frame that my dad and brother and Dave and I saw on the way to the Angels' game a couple weeks ago.  If anyone can explain it or knows the reference/origin, I will send a prize:

Cleansliness Is Next To Godliness

It's not even Friday, and I'm posting.  Whaaaaaaaa?

Yes!  I thought of a good low-transaction-cost (for me) post, so here it goes:

Embee and I decided to do the Oprah detox/cleanse.  The one that Kathy Freston writes about in her book.  The one that La Dooce did for awhile, until she got sick. 

In a nutshell, the cleanse seeks to get all the toxins/inflammation out of your system.  For three weeks, you stick to a vegan diet, with the added joy of no alcohol, caffeine, sugar, artificial crap, or gluten.  Anyone who's ever seen me at a wine and cheese knows that this is quite the far cry from my preferred menu.

But I tend to rely on caffeine to get me through the day (and sometimes alcohol to get me through the night), which clearly isn't healthy.  I wanted to know if I could feel Better than I typically feel.  So I bought the book and read it.  I don't buy into everything Freston wrote (I just don't think colonics can possibly be beneficial) but still like the idea of eating clean for awhile.

Embee and I decided we'd start the Monday after the Fourth of July.  After Dooce got so sick during the cleanse, we reconsidered but ultimately, we decided we still felt like trying it.  We figured, there's no way we could be harmed by cutting out alcohol, fake shit, and sugar.  We decided to plan carefully to eat the stuff we're allowed to eat, and stop if we began to feel like ass. 

So we went for it.  Here (witness, the low-budget part of this post) are some of my emails to Embee over the three weeks:

****

Day One

Super delish black bean puree/salsa/baked corn chip/tomato dinner last night.  Dave even ate it.  I added cheese to his, for a nacho-ier experience.
 
I think Whole Foods is behind this cleanse trend. Certainly they benefited last night, to the tune of 85 ducats worth of compliant foods.  It was fun to look at all the products.  There's sugar in everything.  You're not fooling me with this "evaporated cane juice" trickery, Whole Foods!
 
I didn't buy any frozen meals or pre-fab stuff, really.  I kind of am in the mindset of steering clear of processed foods, even permitted ones, as much as possible.  Cramming my system with fruits, veg, and nuts in their natural state.  Take that, colon!
 
Larabar for breakfast.  Pecan pie.  Totally like pre-chewed nut paste, and also kind of oily.  200 calories, 120 of which from fat.  Tasty, though.

***

Day Three

Up muy temprano for Pilates.  Pi-early-s.  Would commit murder for a cup of coffee right now.  Also some asshole is making toast in the kitchen.  Want. Toast.

 

M_____  did a cleanse much like ours last month (more of a global nutritionist lifestyle thing; she gets chix breast and fish but is similarly gluten/dairy/sugar free) and said we will start to notice betterness feelings tomorrow or Sat.  We'd better.

***

Day Four

I just ate the biggest banana I've ever seen (organic!) with some peanut butter made of nothing but peanuts (organic peanuts!).  So freaking stuffed.   I also had some roasted peanuts as a snack earlier.  Other than those, I've been a vegan rawtarian for two days.  unprecedented!

 

I took pictures of the banana for my blog.  And took it to show my friend Heather.  It was lewd, this banana.

***

Day Five

 

My body decided to reward me with a sua sponte colonic this morning.  I couldn't be happier.

 

The rice pasta last night was meh plus.  Better than just meh, but not out of meh range.  I think we overcooked it.  The instructions say 14-16 minutes.  NO.

 

***

Day 11

Bagel Day is tough.  It's the smell of toasting carbs that torments me.

Cinnamon Roll larabar is helping.  That, and avoiding the kitchen.

 

***

Day 15

Can you believe it's already Day 15?   We went to Real Food Daily for dinner on Sat, and Fatty's (yep, that's its name) in Eagle Rock on Friday.  Goes to show how much Dave has changed since we first knew him, huh?  [Ed: Dave would not have been caught dead at a vegan place circa 2001, let alone two back to back vegan dinners.]

 

Yesterday at the Angel's game with my dad, I ate peanuts.  Literally, peanuts.  And didn't even envy the CPK pizza.

 

Right now, I miss yogurt.  Specifically, lime yogurt.

 

***

Day 16

Billed 15 hours yesterday and back at it at 7 this morning.  Coffeeless.

 

***

Day 18

This week is brutal at work, so cleansed energy is much appreciated.

***

Day 22

22 Days later, and I'm feeeeeeling gooood.  <<Nina Simone voice>>

Today just feels like Day 22.  Keeping it up.  But with a bit more flexibility, as discussed.

 

***

Yeah, Embee and I kind of loved the whole experience.  It was horribly inconvenient and time-consuming and probably an undue burden on those who were foolish enough to try to share a meal with me, but in the end, I do feel Better.  Significantly Better.  I've been sleeping better, getting up early, feeling strong and capable.  Also, and this wasn't really the goal, but we both lost weight.  so, yes please!

 

Of course, it's hard to know where to give the credit.  Was it the gluten holding me back all these years, or the cheese?  Am I sleeping better because of our new mattress?  Or because I started exercising again?  Or because I haven't had a glass of wine in over three weeks?  Ultimately, the answer doesn't matter.  Health is holistic, right, so I might as well keep fighting on all fronts - diet, exercise, rest, etc.  It's not like I'll be hardcore vegan from here on out, or that I'll never spearhead another pub crawl.  But I think, most of the time, I'll be keeping on keeping on.

 

p.s. Fritos are vegan. 

Friday Flotsam XXVIII

Yeah, you know, it's all work for the Urban family these days.  I got nothing 'cept the little scraps I jotted on down during the long days/nights at my desk.  So don't expect much.

***

The plaintiff in one of my cases (we're defense side) is totally fucked in the head, so some of what I was doing this week was wading through her psych records.  It was pretty voyeuristically delightful, as far as billable work goes.  The records included an overnight sleep study, broken down by number of minutes in the different phases of sleep for each cycle.  I want an overnight sleep study. 

***

You will recall my long lost gay, who now works in IT up in the San Francisco office.  He called me the other day to ask if I could try an application he had just loaded.  When he emailed me the application, he giggled, because apparently he can just type "DULL" into the To: line in his Outlook and my name pops up.  Because my name is Denise Ullman.  Just kidding, it's not.  But the analogy pretty much holds up with my real name applied to the first initial/last name email addreconvention.

Ok, so I wasn't too pleased to be Codename:DULL and accordingly I harrumphed at Clintie.  "Don't feel bad," he said.  "We have another woman up here in SF named Patti Lopez, and for her I type PLOP."

"Yes, that's worse." I agreed.

"Absolutely." Said Clint.  "Oh, and then there's our client, Tiffany Watkins."

***

And now it's Friday and I don't think I have to work too much this weekend and I get to have a hot date with my mom on Saturday while Dave is out with a bunch of dudes for a bachelor party.  Aw, jeah!

Friday Flotsam XXVII

What are you doing here?  I'm incredibly boring these days, though I'm optimistic that will change after I get two gnarly briefs out the door early next week.  Besides, Miss Doxie is back!  Go now, and have your joyful reunion!

But come back soon:  I'm planning a textual exegesis of Music Box Dancer!  (Just to whet your appetite)

Friday Flotsam XXVI

Rough week my friends, with personal tragedy and everything.  At times like this, you gotta find some laughs just to get through the day.

I found one laugh on a secretaries' calendar.  It's some grammar nazi page a day jobby, and the quote that made me laugh was "After the sermon, the bishop moved among the families in the park, eating their picnic lunches."

I found another laugh in the size of the banana I bought at the downstairs deli.  Sometimes a cigar is just a banana. 

(ARRRGH.  Typepad won't let me type anything beneath the picture I inserted, so I'll just wish you all peace, love, and an endless weekend, and check back witchu later.)

Free-Riding On The Car Guy

The Car Guy, Mr. Bell Tower, the Midwest Marvel, his nibs, has extremely graciously agreed to pipe up on these pages from time to time, like when I go on vacation.  I sort of didn't get it together to publish his Very Patriotic Post before I left, so please allow me to milk his riff on Independence Day into this following week.

After all, as BT asked me, what is more patrotic than AMERICAN GLADIATORS? So pour yourself a nice, fresh weight gainer shake, sit back, and enjoy.

Without further ado, I give you:

MR. BELL TOWER.

****

Ms. Vaguely Urban recently asked me if I would be interested in occasionally contributing a post to her fabulous blog. Sheesh, talk about flattering!

Her "Rejected Gladiator Names" post back in January unearthed special  memories for me, because my college roommate and I did the exact same thing 15 years ago, as we wasted more than a few Saturdays watching the original Gladiators. I forwarded the link to my college roommate, who now lives in Norway, and a flurry of cross-continental emails followed. There's plenty of chaff here, but I've left them unedited, 
because some I initially thought were duds cracked me up when I looked at them later. Plus, it also demonstrates my belief that if you take a funny concept and beat it into the ground, it only gets funnier.

P.S.: "Corbin Lacina" requires a bit of explanation. That's the name\of a football player at our college. While waiting in the cafeteria line one day, my roommate witnessed Corbin suddenly and violently 
wedge his forearm under another student's chin and stiffarm him back about 25 feet, finally slamming him against a wall. Apparently this hapless student made the mistake of cutting in line in front of Corbin 
for a pork chop.

Chicago:

Smorgasboard (misspelling deliberate)
Attila
Crackpot
Quagmire
Gridlock
Despot
Tyrannus
Tyrant
Captor
Scofflaw
Drama
Spectre
Landmine
Shellshock
Crumbum
Reflux
Asthma
Heartburn
Chronic
Shrinkwrap
Spasm
Ballhog
Nightstick
Blackjack
Stent
Graft
Junta
Jambalaya
Gumbo
---------------

Norway:

Tatt2
Bumper
Forklift
Skidloader
Handjob
Glutes
Retread
Boneyard
Hematoma
Blog
Strut
Oak
Rebar
Mulch
Halfwit
Skidmark
Danger
Inbreed
Linedance
Sloth
Cuddler
Cranium
Clubfoot
Arthritis
Itch
Bison
Opossum
Migraine
Cramp
Smoothie

Chicago:

Seize
Tight
Miss Sinewy
Torque
Razorback
Banjo
Bongo
Pipes
Heartburn
Magnum
Grudge
Twinlab
Reps and Sets (identical twins)
Shock and Awe (identical twins)
Mallet
Gavel
Bailiff
Wapner
School
Coldcock
Diesel
Semi
Horrid
Chilly
Oof
Frostbite
Throttle
Shank
Plank
Lank
Yank
Yak
Dowel
Gristle
Grizzle
Sling
Grind
Scythe
Reaper
Girder
Girdle
Virus
Toxin
Lump
Ammo
Clampdown
Smackdown
Shakedown
Tank
Gong
Beef
Thud
Seethe
Grip
Heave
Hamhock
Beef
Clench
I-Beam
Trunk
Balco
Clydesdale
Throb
Pulse
Joist
Buttress
Badger
Asphalt
Molasses
Water Moccassin
Flex
Komodo
Cable
Sass
Clutch
Blowback
Crapshoot
Cornfed
Eightball
Redline
Flatline
Katrina
Chainsaw
Riff
Codpiece
Patriot
Lockjaw
Slackjaw
Gemini
Uranus
Black Hole
Cornhole
Batter
Frankenberry
Cudgel
Boulder
Cujo
Bitchslap
Hogtie
Buckshot
Clambake
Hoedown
Spangle
Glands
Magma
Scud
Humvee
Chopsocky
Slaphappy
Cooter
Knuckle Sandwich
Embargo
Shillelagh (wears a kilt and a Tam o' Shanter, of course)

Norway:

Mound
Hose
Wildebeest
Jpeg
Plow
Brokeback
Humpback
Bronco
Pump
Freighter
Grunt
Socks
Panty
Bread
Silverback
Nibbler
Snuggle
Omnivore
Nodule
Polyp
Autist
Protein
Proton
Crouton
Backwater
Nuts
Wedge
Chisel
Torso
Bicep
Brick
Wigwam
Drystack
Glacier
Boiler
Belgian Blue

Chicago:

Daddy
Mom
Jaywalker
Salad (catch phrase "You can't toss this Salad!!)
Slab
Traction
Neverland (catch phrases <pointing> "I'm gonna take you there!!" <flexing oiled up biceps> "Taste the Jesus Juice!!"
Salsa
Lambada
Pewter
Steeple
Chapel
Bumpkin
Holstein
Angus

Chicago:

Headbutt
Clothesline (guess what these guys' signature moves are!)
Trespass
Lion
Tsunami
Chinook
Clouds
Lunge
Steer
Banshee
Poltergeist
Warhead
Sidewinder
Misfire
Ingot
Anvil
Phalanx
Crawdad
Lobster
One-Two (this guy has a big old-timey mustache and says things like"Put up your dukes!!")
Swashbuckle
Swashbuckler
Trough
Madrasa
Puff Adder
Guns
Flynn
Flyboy
Rack
Stacks
Sacks
Lugnut
Tabasco
Habanero
Wasabi
Kimchi
Rapscallion
Whiplash
Pistol Whip
Rascal
Bolus
Cotton Picker

Norway:

Chaps
Saddlebags
Friction
Disco
Ape
Chimp
Primate
Ho
Haystack
Panda
Buffet
Corbin Lacina
Softserve
A-frame
Sawhorse
Rub
Dud
Tugboat
See-saw
Rivet
Donkey
Bladder
Looter
G-string
Hooker
Knickers
Hindenburg
Bulge
Yummy
Chunk
Shemale
Manchild

Chicago:

Burlap
Retsyn
Palomino
Vagrant
Bile
Bowzer (must get rights from Sha-Na-Na... or estate of Sha-Na-Na--both for the name and the patented flexing technique)
Blunt
Trauma
Brusque
F-Stop
Goomba
Gorilla
Scowl
Howler
Owl
Post
Stone
Cassock
Cossack
Tsar
Serf
Sherpa
Lynchmob
Spaz
Devolve
Savant
Cheesecake
Stifle
Scalawag
Horchata
Trifle
Scrapple
Haggis
Driveby
Thug
Chafe
Hayseed
Yokel
Trawler
Longhorn
Snitch
Beekeeper
Ruffian
Coal
Stripmine
Closet
Hamper
Bada-Bing
Chaff

Chicago:

Broadside
Swipe
Swiffer
Nebula
Monger
Homeskillet
Blight
Scapegoat
Scorch
Dogpile
Pugilist
Punish
Cognac
Fisticuff
Bandit
Showoff
Hoagie
Boatload
Alot
Grenade
Sprawl

Friday Flotsam XXV

By the time you read this, I'll be way offshore in the Channel Island.  I'm cruising to the Cruz on my annual camping trip with my college besties.

New this year: my SIGG bottle, replacing my apparently deadly Nalgene.  Also, a sweet new Thermarest sleeping pad.  And perhaps best of all a pimp new tent with the prettiest colors evah!  I will post photos upon return.

And sorry to be such a skimpy poster and then beg favors, but something went horribly awry with our DVR and we did not capture the majority of So You Think You Can Dance.  Any real-life SoCal peeps have it saved and willing to host a viewing sesh for me and Dave sometime next week?  Apreesh, man.

Have a glorious Fourth, compatriots,  Safe and sane, please!

Friday Flotsam XXIV

This is the Eff Typepad Edition of Friday Flotsam.  Typepad is being a dildo and keeps crashing like a little bitchface.  Thrice I posted all these rad pictures of Melati's dogs trying to bone my dog and thrice the software crashed.  So I say poo to you, Typepad. Poo. To. You.

Seriously, I wish you could see these photos of two randy Cavalier King Charles Spaniels attempting some two one one recreational sex (she's fixed) with my sweet petunia. 

The sweet petunia snarled some "No Means No" at those pure-bred frat pups, with some vicious kidney punches thrown in for emphasis.  Those pictures also made fuckwad Typepad crash.  I don't have time for this shit, Typepad. 

So for now you will just have to imagine away.  I'll try again soon.  Meanwhile, happy weekend to all!

Except Typepad.