I swear to you, owls are aliens. 12 seconds.
The name of the site kind of says it all.
Frankly, though, I’m not so sure all of these paintings are bad.
This gem of a videoslap is from Parker, who knows me well- there’s nothing I like better than a lady singer who BRINGS IT, totally giving Britney Spears the what-for on a cover of my favourite Brit-Brit song. French-Israeli singer Yael Naim (she sings that “New Soul” song from the MacBook Air commercials) could not be sexier if she tried, this sort of insane gypsy thing she’s doing is unbelievable, and is about one zillion times more interesting than Brit-Brit’s floor-humping vulgarity. This cover rocks hard. 6 minutes.
I really like “Toxic” quite a lot- you may recall this wicked ukelele cover I rhapsodized about a few months ago.
This is a really interesting, in-depth article about the #1 childrens’ entertainer in Washington- The Great Zucchini, who does birthday parties for DC yuppie preschoolers, making over 100K a year on a 2-day workweek. The guy is a surprising mess of innocence and insight, and the article is a damn solid piece of journalism. Fascinating read.
At the moment, the Great Zucchini was trying and failing to blow up a balloon, letting it whap him in the face, hard. Then he poured water on his head. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Great Zucchini was behaving like a complete idiot.
The birthday boy’s aunt saw me taking notes. “You’re writing a story about him?” she asked, amused. I confirmed that I was.
“But . . . why?” she asked.
A few feet away, the Great Zucchini was pretending to be afraid of his own hand.
“I mean, are you that desperate?” she asked.
After the peekaboo age, but before the age of [more] sophisticated understanding, dwells the preschooler. His sense of humor is more than infantile but less than truly perceptive. He comprehends irony but not sarcasm. He lacks knowledge but not feeling. The central fact of his world — and the central terror to be overcome — is his own powerlessness. This is where the Great Zucchini works his magic.
… He behaves like no adult in these preschoolers’ world, making himself the dimwitted victim of every gag. He thinks a banana is a telephone, and answers it. He can’t find the birthday boy when the birthday boy is standing right behind him. Every kid in the room is smarter than the Great Zucchini; he gives them that power over their anxieties.
On the floor in front of us, the kids — 2-, 3- and 4-year-olds — were convulsed in laughter. Literally. They were rolling on the carpeted floor, holding their tummies, mouths agape, little teeth jubilantly bared, squealing with abandon. In the vernacular of stand-up, the Great Zucchini was killing.
Full article is longish, but a very compelling read. It’s here; via Kottke.
Blu is an animator/graffiti artist in Buenos Aires. Muto is a huge-scale piece of animation, painted on walls, which blew my head open (and then a little guy came out of my skull and blew his own head open and then another little tiny guy came out of his skull and pulled his little tiny head off and offered it to a giant, etc).
It is SO good. 7.5 minutes- make sure to watch with sound. Clicky clicky here (because I cannot for the life of me get Vimeos to embed, if anyone knows how, lemme know, because it’s not like I’ve never tried).
I have a bunch of stuff to do, so of course I made a video of a cat eating a marshmallow.
In the works is a totally neglected but kind of amusing blog entirely about pets, created by the lazy ladies who intermittently bring you WantPickles. Stay tuned. Knowing us, this might take a while.
POSTSCRIPT: Mojo ate that marshmallow about an hour ago and holy crap is he ever tearing up the apartment right now. His little eyes are bugging out and he’s digging around in my bag like he’s hoping there’s gonna be a chicken down there.
My old roommate Nick Fox-Gieg made this. 2 minutes.
My old roommate Nick Fox-Gieg WON South X South West with this. Holy hell, congrats, pal!
Today I wore a dress without jeans or tights underneath. And I walked around all afternoon and I wasn’t cold. And then I came home & dragged the big comfy chair onto the porch and sat out there in bare feet and a sweater to read a script. For like an hour, and I wasn’t cold. Things are getting better, and by that I mean warmer, around here. I’m totally swamped with somewhat intimidating projects, but that can only be good, hey?