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Friday’s Quizzlet: Live and in Technicolor


in Friday's Quizzlet

Last week’s user-submitted quizzlet was a lot of fun, no? Shall we do it again? I’m about to send out Facebook and Twitter requests for questions and I will add to this post as they come in. Please leave your questions in the blog comments. Update: Sweet Jesus. Stop before I end up on a government list.

Appetizer: If you could berate a pro sports athlete at a match, etc. who would it be? – Gary P.

I’ve never been a fan of his, but after last Saturday’s Bruins vs. Islanders match – “The Pest”, Sean Avery. Click the link if you’ve yet to see him thwap the back of Bruins’ goalie Tim Thomas’ head with his stick starting a donnybrook which hardly helped New York’s situation. There is hockey goonery, which I fully encourage, and then there’s hockey douchebaggery. I’d like to take a Gatorade bucket and dump it over his head. In the middle of a rink after a game that would be awfully chilly! Not to mention it would be filled with carbolic acid.

Soup: How are you and Spud getting along now that you’ve inherited him? – Anneliese R.

Surprisingly well, thank you. You were here the day he bit my face and scarred the frig out of it two summers ago. Whether I deserved it or not, there are two types of cats: ones that bite to wound and ones that bite to warn. Spud is of a third type which bites to maim. Anyhew, not only are we getting along but he sleeps in my bed, follows me around the house, sits with me, purrs constantly – it’s amazing. I guess he knows where his mouse is buttered now.

Salad: How many dogs can one man own? – Kent H.

Three. I didn’t even have to think about it. There are several factors to consider in regards to how many canines one household can sustain, but only one of them is worth discussing – it’s what I like to call the “creature to lawn landmine threshold ratio”. It looks something like this:

Number of dogs x 2 poops each a day / lawn acreage = C.L.L.R.

Currently I’m maxxed out. I have my stainless steel dustpan on a pole, my little doo-doo rake and I’m constantly hovering over the grass looking for dead soldiers as it is. If another dog were to be added to the mix I’d be buried in a mountain of recycled Eukanuba by Labor Day.

nero-eric-bana

Main Course: Thanks to a relatively new area of science called String Theory, physicists and cosmologists are on the cusp of unifying Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity (the theory of the very big) with quantum theory (the theory of the very small). If their calculations prove true, it will mean that our universe sits within a sea of parallel universes that existed long before The Big Bang. Could you give me your take on the implications of parallel universes and pre-Big Bang physics? What does this stuff mean for mankind? – Mark B.

My head just started throbbing. The answer to your questions, however, are obvious. The implications of a parallel universe were well documented in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and I’m not going to jump through hoops for you and rehash it all here. What does it mean for mankind? Well – we’re fucked, basically. Especially after Nero warps in on May 8th.

Dessert: If you had to cut off one of your fingers from each hand, which ones would you pick? – Staci D.

You can’t live without your thumb. Watch the Pope of Greenwich Village for more detail on that point. Your index finger enables you to pick your nose, point and poke. The middle finger – enough said. And the pinkie is just way too adorable. Reminds me of my mother telling me nursery rhymes about pigs. The third finger, however, doesn’t even have a nickname. So lop those suckers off on both hands. If for no other reason than I can look like I’m throwing the goat, 24/7.

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Introducing Pixie Pye!


in Animalistic

Back in February, when Mom was particularly bad, Shep’s breeder graciously offered to take care of him for a few days. When I returned to pick him up Megan mentioned to me that Pixie, who was Shepherd 1.0‘s mother, had to have an emergency spay after her most recent litter was delivered and as a result would be put up for adoption should I be interested. I had always adored Pixie – she was the first Boston Terrier I ever really met in my life – so the wheels started turning.

A bit of background – you may recall that the first litter Janet and I were supposed to get our puppies from, parented by Pixie and Oscar, died of the equivalent of canine SIDS. The impending existence of an “accidental” litter became apparent to the breeder a few days later, parented by Cricket and Oscar this time, and Megan called to let me know Janet and I would have first choice of those puplets when the time came. Hence we went on to become fanatical Boston Terrier people. Just call me Rose McGowan.

The bottom line is that Shep is an incredible pain in the butt when the two of us are up here alone and his sister is with my sister in Boston. He sits beside my office chair and whines all darn day. When Rhuby is here, however, they keep each other amused to no end. This was the basis on which I made the decision to adopt Pixie last week – and I picked her up Monday night right after I got back from Beantown. The breeder told me that she was “elated” that I wanted the dog because three other families she interviewed with didn’t work out. Whether the people sucked, or I’ve just adopted Satan spawn, remains to be seen.

IMG 0849
“What did you just say about my new brother?”

She’s small for a Boston Terrier with a muscular little frame that shoots around the house at breakneck speeds. She’s not too fond of the cats as of yet and frequently corners them before barking in their faces until I come and drag her away. She snores like a sailor and makes little grunting sounds constantly which may cause some to mistake her for a pot-bellied pig – but I assure you it’s beyond cute. Snoring will begin literally 20 seconds after she puts her head down, so let me change my previous comparison to “drunken” sailor.

Two days before I picked her up she was in a scrap with another of the breeder’s dogs, “Dancey” who managed to tear a big hunk out of her left brow. I’ve been doing my best to keep it clean and closed which is why you’ll see a band aid in some of her pictures. I am now of the opinion that Crazy Glue should be a feature of every first aid kit.

So far so good. I love the little monster, and the fact that she’s named after my favorite band made the decision that much easier. Destiny turned on the Terrier, perhaps. Stay tuned for more silly puppy photos and videos featuring my new muse – Pixie Pye! Click for the full gallery.

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Help Get Stan Rogers a Star on Canada’s Walk of Fame


in Canadiana, Musical

stan-rogers-songwriterIf you don’t know who Stan Rogers was, that’s OK – he’s been dead since 1983 (went back to pull other passengers out of a burning plane even after he himself had escaped) and never permeated the American mass music market the way many other Canadian bands have. And by “Canadian bands” I of course mean the Bare Naked Ladies. If you’d like to learn more about this remarkable musician please visit the Wadio post I did on Stan Rogers a year and a half ago.

There’s currently a petition to have Rogers awarded a posthumous star on Canada’s Walk of Fame – and I think that’s a damn good idea. I’ve loved his saltwater-soaked sea tales since my father first played them for me as a child. In fact, modern bands like the Decemberists must surely count him as an influence.

Barrett’s Privateers – You have to watch this!

They need at least 5,000 signatures by noon eastern time on April 30th and currently have less than 2,000, apparently. The person leading the Stan Rogers charge, and who created the Facebook group I belong to wrote me only this morning. A for effort, my friend:

“Please sign so that when I meet with the Walk’s selection committee on April 30th I can show Stan Rogers was truly admired.”

It’s really hard to believe this is even in contention or being discussed. The man is a national treasure and definitely should have been in line for a star before Brendan Fraser (2006) or Celine Dion (1999). I signed the petition a few months ago and it takes seconds. If you’re a Stan fan then please take 2 minutes today and add your name to the petition. For the love of Trebek.

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Cold Kickin’ It Live!


in Animalistic, Friday's Quizzlet, Movies

The site from which I used to spelunk my quizzlet questions each Friday has unfortunately gone the way of the Dodo. I’m quite happy to make the questions up myself – but that seems pretty disingenuous. I’d also like to reboot the sense of community we had here on Pye in the Face in years past and encourage reader participation. See where I’m going with this?

Using my Facebook status and Twitter account I’m going to invite all of you to submit the 5 questions which normally make up Friday’s Quizzlet. If folks care enough to get involved maybe I’ll be able to do this every week. I’d also like to invite people to answer the questions themselves in the comments like so many of you used to do in PITF’s golden era. Monday I’ll also be reinstating the Quotelet contest – with real prizes this time around. Sound fun? I’m certainly looking forward to it. Update: Thanks for all the submissions, folks. Here we go.

Appetizer: It’s a common observation that people’s pets resemble them in some way. What are 3 similarities between you and your pet? – Amy K.

1. Shepherd is loyal to a fault. You could say that, however, about every dog that has ever lived. “Want me to follow you into traffic? OK!” Although my “gut feelings” are usually quite dependable there have been a few times in my life where I spent time and energy on fixing people – when I should have been taking out the garbage. Or walking into traffic.

2. Shepherd digs his sister. Janet and I have been very close (since we stopped living together at our parent’s) and we both value each other’s support. For obvious reasons this has become especially important recently and also explains how my 5-day business trip to Boston has turned into over 3 weeks at this point. I’m reminded of Belushi’s SNL skit, “The Thing That Wouldn’t Leave”. But she swears she isn’t. We’ll see what she thinks in another 3 weeks.

3. Shepherd is fascinated by deer poo. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, people.

Soup: Has anyone ever really cared when Jimmy cracked corn? – Megan C.

Yes – it’s quite possible that over the years at least a few people have cared. I’m assuming that to “crack” corn is to husk it and thought up some possible examples.

  • His hungry corn-fed family.
  • A cow, pig or other farm animal who was also quite hungry. If he’s crackin’ corn on a regular basis, he probably lives on a farm. Or needs a hobby.
  • Any major theater chain you wish to choose. Kernels don’t grow on trees, they grow on corn stalks. And getting at the kernels first requires you to crack those motherfuckers.
  • Native American dry colored corn artists. Without Jimmy they’d have far less time to create breathtaking art.

So next time you want to hate on Jimmy the corn cracker, Megan, try showing a little compassion instead. Cornpassion, even.

Salad: What’s your favorite Bonnie memory? Sorry that’s personal but I’d like to hear it. – Mary C-B.

It’s obviously impossible to pick just one. There was an amusing recent occurrence, however, which happened up at the lake house about 3 summers ago. I bugged and bugged my mother to get on the back of a jetski with me, which she was absolutely dead set against. After taking a couple of test runs back and forth across her line of vision, I came back to the dock in one piece and finally coerced her to climb on. She got out of her lawn chair which was set up on the dock beside Gordo and several neighbors and they cheered her on as she straddled the evil, motorized sea beast.

The voyage started out well-enough, with Mom giggling and mock-screaming as she held on to my waist for dear life. Then it all went horribly wrong. Anyone with jetski experience will hammer home one piece of advice to a newbie – never decelerate in a turn. I did just that, right in full view of the dock spectators, and Bonnie and I rolled arse-over-tit beneath the waves in a split second. I climbed back on my steed but Mom had had quite enough and dog-paddled all the way back to shore as we both endured comments from the peanut gallery (well, I got a lot more shit than she did). I tied up at the dock myself about 20 minutes later. As I passed by my father he beckoned for me to lean down before whispering in my ear: “Thanks a lot, asshole. Now she’ll never let me get one.”

Main Course: Which crime would you make punishable by death, and how would the guilty be executed? – Gary P.

Child abuse. Particularly that of a diddly nature. Most states will already execute you for killing a child. Ruining the rest of their life via mental scarring will only get you a comparably short jail sentence followed by a “This Guy is a Diddler” sign on your front lawn. I’ll need more time to devise the ideal method of diddler dispatch, but I can tell you that it will definitely be slow, will definitely be painful and will definitely involve… diddling.

Dessert: Why hasn’t Will Smith insisted on starring in films with better storylines? – Angie F.

I have to assume here that you’re speaking specifically about the two cowboys fighting the giant robotic spider in 1880’s California? If you’re not, you should be. At least you get to see Bai Ling’s buttocks in that pile of garbage, which on second thought isn’t much of an incentive. Seven Pounds put me to sleep quicker that a mallet to the temple, but I think recently his choices have been quite sound. I really enjoyed I Am Legend, Pursuit of Happyness and Hancock. Your theory about Will’s bad choices may come back into fashion, however, as I see his next movie in production is entitled Monster Hunter. I’d like to go on record as saying I hope that movie involves at least one Sasquatch pursuit.

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