Phone cam round-up

Dude, don't go losing your head. I can give you a hand.

The original brain fart?

Obviously, something didn't measure up.

Gather 'round, children, and let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, children just like you used to win prizes at the carnival midway that were funny stretched out soda bottles with colored water in them. This one held a mysterious concoction called TAB before someone drank it and turned it into what you see here. Some children had whole collections of these that they displayed amid other strange items like velvet posters and black lights.

Times sure used to be different, children.

Airborne idea generator in the lobby of WCPN, taken just before having this interview with Dee Perry on NPR's "Around Noon."

Two frogs sitting together but not looking at each other. Perhaps they are protesting Leap Year. Is Leap Year anti-frog?

A hot time in the old town was had by ... someone.

You can have a blueberry muffin. You can have a cinnamon roll. But there should be a law against blueberry muffin or cinnamon roll pudding. 

Um, no thank you. I already ate.

Talk about your game face. You'd never know he lost the last couple of rounds.

There is a certain poetry to towering displays of Velveeta (in 2 lb. bricks no less!) at the Walmart. I do not know what that poetry is, but there is a certain poetry.

Goat seated on pod beneath a device that looks like it might suck him up into a mysterious spaceship.

Got alien abduction?

Note: pic taken before ankle event.

An epic tragedy on the road--at least when you're partial to puzzlegasms.

* * *

Maureen Dowd says I was right

In December 2008, I wrote a column for Cleveland Scene in which I gave a New-Years-resolution inspired list of Rules That Matter.

The third entry on the list (which I just reviewed and can say with confidence that all the rules are every bit as valid now as they were three years ago and if we all followed them, the world would be a better place), starts thusly:

The only sexual activity you need to worry about is your own.

Hey GOP? You hear that? Had y'all been heeding that advice maybe you wouldn't have gotten the (utterly delicious) tongue lashing from Maureen Dowd (“Republicans being against sex is not good,” the G.O.P. strategist Alex Castellanos told me mournfully. “Sex is popular.”), or James Carville (You've got Santorum sneaking upstairs checking the medicine cabinet to see who is taking birth control pills.), or even your own guy David Frum ferchrissake!

Now dig what The Boy Wonder Santorum said in October 2011:

One of the things I will talk about that no President has talked about before is I think the dangers of contraception in this country, the whole sexual libertine idea. Many in the Christian faith have said, “Well, that’s okay. Contraception’s okay.”

It’s not okay because it’s a license to do things in the sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be. They’re supposed to be within marriage, they are supposed to be for purposes that are, yes, conjugal, but also [inaudible], but also procreative. That’s the perfect way that a sexual union should happen.

Hm. Definitely an infraction of Erin's Rule #3. Now one of you needs to scamper over to Ricky's house, strap a red ball gag in his mouth, and tell him the only dick he needs to worry about is in his pants.

Love, Erin

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Erotic fish dance and friends

The Woman Who Stares at Goat

No, this has nothing to do with the film, but here's a clip anyway.



Yes, I've been staring at the Goat--but not in order to kill him (like in the movie). My undivided attention has been by way of the nursing arts. (World, meet Nurse Erin.) As we all know, life happens, and it did indeed happen to the Goat last week. Perhaps foreshadowed by this event, the Goat broke his ankle (as in reeeeeally broke), hence my scarcity online.

Here are some round-up notes, in no particular order:

--The Mini Cooper has served as Medical Transport One throughout this trauma.

--Never, ever ask me to operate your wheelchair, lest you find yourself in a Monte Python skit gone terribly wrong wherein the hapless patient is subjected to near ejection courtesy of potholes (Who needs that pedestrian bridge? We'll just cross the street. Stop fussing, traffic will stop. You're in a wheelchair for pity's sake!), improper employ of wheelchair brakes during loading and unloading, and the sheer terror of being hurriedly pushed into an elevator injured foot first.

--If I insist on pushing your wheelchair (Don't be silly. Just sit back and relax.), call the police.

--If you ever find yourself at Cleveland's MetroHealth campus at lunch time, amble over to Maha's Cafe for a falafel sandwich. It's spicy, crispy sublime pleasure wrapped in a chewy, stretchy pita.

--The fashion sense of people in a surgical waiting room leaves a great deal to be desired.

--The difficulty I encountered unwrapping my KitKat bar had nothing to do with operator error and was instead due to the exceedingly warm temperature of the room in which the vending machine that housed the KitKat was located, which ever-so-slightly melted the exterior chocolate of the KitKat, increasing its coefficient of friction.

--In a pinch, you can use a latex glove (from one of those dispenser boxes) to protect a pair of eyeglasses from the other items in your purse while your Goat undergoes a procedure during which eyeglass wear is prohibited.

--While utterly impossible to resist, I'm not sure eavesdropping on persons in the ER, assorted waiting rooms, corridors and coffee spots is a wholesome activity. ("He told me he loves me and wants me and all of that." "Just between me and you, when George died, he owed me money." "I'm gonna want that cigarette when I get back.")

--For myriad reasons that I will not list here, the Goat is one seriously tough hombre.

Although the Goat won't be "freeing his feet" like Clooney & Co. in today's clip for at least few weeks, I am happy to report the he has emerged from a successful surgery and is convalescing as comfortably as can be expected. As for me, I'm staring and doting and hovering, and thanking the stars above that my Goat will soon be his regular whole Goat self again soon.

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The Goat's a shoe-in

Behold what may be the best Valentine's gift of all time: a life-sized solid chocolate high heeled polka-dotted shoe filled with gourmet truffles. I realize the readership may have been able to visually glean that description despite my unfortunate photographic attempts, but hey, how many times does a girl get to type "life-sized solid chocolate high heeled polka-dotted shoe filled with gourmet truffles" in her life?

Damn. I'm up to two.

Note how the chocolatier offers up those luscious truffles in lieu of a chocolate foot thereby defying the devastating assertion that one-cannot-have-one's-chocolate-shoe-and-eat-it-too. Sweet joy of life!

I love that the chocolate shoe is a gift for me as well as everyone who sees it, for the chocolate shoe surely renews the viewer's faith in humanity. If the vicarious experience isn't enough however, you too may procure your own chocolate shoe from Sweet Designs where they make them by hand.

It is now February 17 and the chocolate shoe has been in my possession for three days. I've only eaten one of the truffles and clearly deserve some sort of award for that. Yes, I will share the truffles with my darling Goat and Lil' OB. I'll even offer them nibbles on the white chocolate embellishment.

But dear reader, when the time comes to lift shoe to mouth (and that time will indeed come) and wrap lips around that dangerously inviting heel in preparation of a bite that promises be infinitely more orgiastic than the decapitation of a thousand chocolate bunnies, that pleasure will be mine and mine alone.

After all, a person can only share so much.

* * *

The following is a true story

* * *

Wife and husband lie blinking awake in their nuptial bed as the velvet blue of predawn blooms in the east.

Wife: I often have dreams in which I cannot understand or use my cell phone at the most critical moments.

Husband: I often have realities in which I cannot understand or use my cell phone at the most critical moments.

* * *

'Sup with the fruit panties? You hatin' on me?

Next up

Esteemed readership:

A reminder that I'll be chatting with Dee Perry on the popular lunchtime radio show "Around Noon" about The Irish Hungarian tomorrow at, well, around noon EST. You can listen live in Northeast Ohio on WCPN 90.3 or online. The podcast will be available after the show airs.

And in another strange twist in the road of life, my ol' boss Frank Lewis has enlisted me to be a slam poetry team leader at Love Is a Burning Thing: A Valentine's Day Slam & Jam, which will be at The Happy Dog next Tuesday--Valentine's Day--from 7 to 9 p.m. This event is free and open to the public.

Something you should know about The Happy Dog: herein you can walk up to the bar and hand the nice young man or woman $2 and they will hand you a can of the coldest Carling's Black Label in the world, which is a pure testimony to the beauty of life. They also have world-class hot dogs and coolness oozing from every corner. It is not possible to have a bad time at this bar.

*  *  *

The readership will note that today's photo features the Goat with a giant stone squirrel. The readership will note that the Goat's life is sometimes complicated with dubious photo shoots that are mandated by the authoress. The readership will note that the authoress does not feel compelled to tie graphic content with literal content on these pages. The readership will note that the readership is the readership. The readership will note that it's time for the authoress to end this post.

* * *

Injured Goat hoof and other delights

My poor Goat hath injured his hoof!

This is the unhappy result of folding table negatively impacting hoof of Goat and believe me, it looks much worse in person. While I tend this grave trauma, I invite you to enjoy some other delights:

-Behold the tales of a man, a woman and the quest for the perfect gourmet marshmallow (yes, I've already placed my order).

-You want to go easy on the calories? Here's some eye candy instead: Dig Callahan's staggering photos of a structure in Gary, Indiana, and the devastating prose that goes along with it.

-In keeping with my subtle nod to the famed Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass in this post's title, let's end this one with A Taste of Honey that I absolutely LOVED--digital age be damned!

The proper handling of cucumbers

Dear Readership,

Tomorrow's Plain Dealer book section will feature The Irish Hungarian Guide to the Domestic Arts. You can preview the article here. In it, reviewer Donna Marchetti references my description of the alternative use of certain vegetables, then says, "I'll spare you the details."

I won't.

Below is the excerpt to which she refers. It appears in the middle of my incomparable recipe for Hungarian cucumbers.

* * *

We interrupt this recipe to bring you the following public service announcement:

Any consenting adult is duly encouraged to use any vegetable matter as a marital aid. Please carefully consider the following guidelines for a safe, convenient and enjoyable experience. Choose firm, high quality organically grown products. Wash vegetable matter first. Carving/peeling vegetable matter into realistic shapes can make the experience whimsical and more satisfying. Any person who has used the vegetable matter as a marital aid is welcome to consume the vegetable matter after a thorough washing (of vegetable matter). DO NOT, however, serve the vegetable matter in question to parties who are unaware of the vegetable matter's previous employ, no matter how thoroughly they have been washed. Said practice is considered uncool.

We now continue with your regularly scheduled recipe, already in progress. Thank you. 

*  *  *

Timeless, no?

The world needs more straightforward advice such as this. Why, it's as sensible today as it was for our great-great grandmothers (although "uncool" may have been outside their vernacular).

Thank you Cleveland Plain Dealer. Thank you Ms. Marchetti, and as always, thank you to the readership.

Love,

Erin

* * *

One humbled Irish Hungarian

Last night, friends old and new filled Local Girl Gallery to the rafters to hear me read from The Irish Hungarian. The event sparkled with energy and my publishers report that we sold every book they'd brought to the event.

I have now drafted and re-drafted this post a dozen times, but am still at a loss for words. Suffice it to say that last night has me a bit overwhelmed, more than a little humbled and so so thankful for everyone who attended and helped make the event a success.

All of you give me so much. What would I do without you?

Love, Erin

* * *

Innovative organizational tip and stalking the wild O'Brien

In an effort to streamline operations here at the Offices of Erin O'Brien, I've removed all the sticky notes from my computer face (that date as far back as a year [well ... I think that far, they're not dated]) and adhered them to a notebook page. By doing so, I will clearly be able to complete the tasks so meticulously outlined on each square (I don't know what half of the notes mean and cannot read the other half). Feel free to employ this method in your own administrative life.

In perhaps a more industrious use of my time, I've also created a public calendar listing my readings, signings and events and posted a link to it right over there near the top of the right-hand side bar for reference.

Here are the events so far:

Feb 2: An Irish Hungarian Book Launch, Local Girl Gallery, 7 p.m. with a reading at 8 p.m.

Feb 8: Radio spot, Around Noon with Dee Perry, WCPN 90.3, Northeast Ohio, listen live or online at 12 p.m. EST or download the podcast anytime after the airdate.

March 24: An Irish Hungarian reading and signing, Mac's Backs, 7 p.m.

March 31: Workshops, The 21st Annual Western Reserve Spring Writers’ Conference, Lakeland Community College.

Here is the first bit of feedback I've received from a reader who downloaded the Kindle version from Amazon, read it cover to cover and sat down to send me this.

I couldn't help myself. I just preordered ten copies of your book to give to friends ... Thank you for creating this perfect book so that I can unexpectedly gift them to friends that will enjoy it immensely.

Wow. Stay tuned, boppers.

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