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| Go into the light. |
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Da-da Resolves...
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| ...not to make any resolutions. Except for the Kirk-out workout. "HA-PPY NEW YEAR, HA-PPY NEW YEAR..." |
Da-da Resolves...
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| ...to stop levitating furry things. Or to NOT stop levitating furry things. One of those. |
Da-da Resolves...
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| ...to work on his trick shots. With his kid-tranquilizer gun. Dressed as a gay mariachi. |
Da-da Resolves...
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| ...to not be part of any more alien attacks in 2012. No matter how much they pay Da-da. Unless it's a lot. |
Da-da Resolves...
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| ...to get all the spiders out of his head in 2012. ALL OF THEM. Except the cute ones. |
Friday, December 30, 2011
So Long 2011...
...can't say I'll miss you, though MAN can you act. Anyway, don't let next year hit you in the butt on the way out. That said, HELLO... uh, 2012...
Hm. Looks like we're gonna laugh, we're gonna cry, we're gonna be on the edge of our seats. It'll be nothing if not entertaining. Regardless, buckle up, Timmy. Those boots look serious. And functional. Good for wading through all manner of flotsam and jetsam.
Da-da's Warmin' Up the 2012 Parade Machinery
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| The 2012 New Year's Day Parade will be on the SECOND of January this year -- for the first time ever -- which will cause some reasonable and unreasonable agitation. 2012 will be all about reasonable and unreasonable agitation. |
Thursday, December 29, 2011
That Kids-Have-Been-Out-of-School-For-Far-Too-Long Look of Parenthood
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| "...and mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again..." |
Why Canada is Lousy With UFOs
It's official: UFOs have landed en masse all over Canada -- and strangely, nowhere else on earth. Indeed, thousands of huge flying saucers and behemoth rectangular motherships have taken up residence above and around nearly all Canadian cities and in all provinces. Greeted warmly by the Canucks, the aliens have already started sharing their massive trove of alien technology with the Canadian people.
"We flew around for a good 50 years, checking out the best landing spots," said Xlonk Xlipome, alien subcommander and goodwill ambassador of the Xli, wearing a maple-leafed toque, "but Canada was the only place we liked. Canadians are just nicer than other Terrans. And funnier, jeez. In this universe, you either develop a good sense of humor or you're pretty much hosed." Citing the rampant, fear-based paranoia of most other earth cultures, Xlonk added that more earth cities might be added to the aliens' itinerary, but only if they lightened up. "I think the UK may be next," the alien added. "Besides Kids in the Hall and Slings and Arrows, we're all big fans of Monty Python."
Even more shocking than the Canadian landings themselves, their neighbors to the south have ostensibly begun to turn off FOX news and other fear-based programming, with some Americans actually leaving their homes to hug non-white strangers; some uncharacteristically smile for no reason, waving at saucers headed for Canada, while others have gone so far as to disarm themselves. Texas appears to be the only fully armed, unsmiling exception. Except for a few regional anomalies, Texans still seemed tightlipped and heavily armed -- especially given the Cowboys choking this season. Indeed, Texas seems the only state where passing UFOs are regularly shot at and cursed. "Maybe it's the fire ants," Xlonk shrugged.
Da-da's Warmin' Up the 2012 Parade Machinery
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| Few people realize it now, but 2012 is gonna be a non-stop B&W Tinkerbell-flintlock explosion! Dust off those coonskin caps and nomex coveralls, Clyde, 'cause 2012 is a-comin'! O Lucky Man! |
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Da-da's Warmin' Up the 2012 Parade Machinery
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| Get those Mayan tentacles activated for the Al Roker segment. |
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Da-da's Warmin' Up the 2012 Parade Machinery
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| Activate all gland/chakra energy vortices for all 26 illusory dimensions. Be ethereal about it. |
The Whole World is Haunted, Part 2: Of Ghost Mousing and Wireless Suppression... oh, and Dead Man's Email
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| Ghost IT guys. Ok, now Da-da's heard everything. |
"The Whole World is Haunted, Part 2" was to come out much sooner, but... well, some things on Da-da's property (things that must remain nameless) don't like him talking about them, so an entire post had to be squelched. You wouldn't have believed it anyway; Da-da doesn't believe it and he's seen 'em twice -- at night and in broad daylight. Indeed, his fourth book was shaping up to revolve around what is basically an elemental mafia, but after Da-da unfurled the plot and characters to Ma-ma -- and on the same day mentioned to a neighbor (a hundred yards from Da-da's house) what was going on... suffice to say that Da-da had some terrible dreams about what would happen should he continue in this vein and has since dropped the project. It would be different if Da-da had photographic evidence.
For those not in the know, please begin with, The Whole World is Haunted, Part 1, for some background on Da-da's strange property. Now to recent events Da-da can actually talk about.
Besides the nominal disembodied walking and creaking and stairmastering, ghostwise things are picking up. Da-da's oldest, Nagurski, seems to be the most sensitive of all of us, and the most in demand as he can hear what they're saying and they like that. Apparently, we have a knot of gloaters in one corner of the house, as all they seem to say is, "HEY!" and "HA!" Not very scary, really, for anyone. (Nagurski, bored: "Da-da, the ghosts said, "HA" again.) However, classic cold spots have began to pop up for the first time, especially next to Nagurski's bed. (Ma-ma just said, "HA!" as she knows all too well that Da-da keeps what the Brits call, "a cold house," thermostat around 62 degrees F. This means the cold spots are cold for DA-DA, which feels around 30 degrees F, though Da-da has yet to see his breath.) Cold spots are easy to explain if you have a degree in physics and an open mind. Entities are simply vibrating at a frequency that reduces the temperature of their incursion into our plane. That explains why Da-da's house is often freezing cold in the summer: Da-da apparently has central ghost air conditioning.
There have been new interlopers, as of late, tall ones that like to walk about rather quickly (Da-da catches them out of the corner of his eye). But the most interesting activity (besides the Elemental Mafia, which are bizarre to modern minds) is the ghost mousing and wireless suppression.
Da-da noticed that when he felt cold spots in his oldest son's room, the wireless internet signal was suppressed on his laptop, sometimes blanking out entirely. Da-da chalked this up to atmospheric flux or somesuch, until he noticed the correlation with the cold spots. Ah, it's happening right now...
Yup.
What is usually 54 mbps is now 5.5 Mbps... now down to 2 Mbps. And Da-da is the only one home. No police cars passing. No HAM radio broadcasters nearby.
Da-da takes everything at face value, so he has learned to politely ask the entities to please go outside or on the roof, as they're interfering with Da-da's wireless connection. (Da-da just said as much.) And... lo and behold, the wireless strength is restored. It's almost as if someone is reading Da-da's screen over his shoulder. Da-da can't say he blames them. Da-da reads and writes some interesting things. His third book is a hoot, if he can ever finish it.
Indeed, the most fun, lately, occurs when Da-da's been writing (and editing; writing is re-writing). During these times, everyone is either asleep or out of the house, the wireless is often turned OFF (as Da-da tries to keep RF saturation to a minimum). Da-da typically uses two laptops, and he writes in many places in the house, but one corner upstairs seems to be the most common area of strangeness (the SW corner). Occasionally during these times of quiet, Da-da has seen his mouse cursor begin to move erratically. As Da-da uses the laptop's touchpad, not an external mouse, it very much appears as if someone's ghost finger is pushing the cursor around the screen. As Da-da used to be in IT, Da-da knows what some of you are thinking: Da-da has a cyber intruder in his system. Ahh, but the wireless is turned OFF when the "ghost mousing" happens. Ghost mousing. How 2012. And it can't be that Da-da's system has become spurious, as it occurs on two separate laptops. (Both devices have anti-virus, have been checked by the manufacturers, and have been given a clean bill of health.)
It may sound strange, but Da-da's kinda been waiting for something like this to occur. Why? Because one of Da-da's best friends died in June of 201, and he was an IT guy and network architect. Interestingly enough, besides the ghost mousing, Da-da's also been received old emails from his dead friend (dating from 1995, 1998, 2002, 2004, 2009, and 2011), which is explainable, given how TCP/IP works... but it's never happened to Da-da so frequently before. And certainly not from the same person over and over again. Despite the fact that this is patently absurd, it does raise Da-da's hackles every time it happens... but it also makes Da-da chuckle, thinking of Da-da's ghost friend Brad eating a ghost burrito and pushing old email and mouse cursors around. Hmm. Hold on a sec.
Ok, Da-da just asked Ghost Brad to go out into the Internet cloud (Da-da won't say where) and email something juicy to Da-da. Let's see if he's successful.
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| Thank you, thank you. No applause, just cool my house in summer, thanks. |
Monday, December 26, 2011
'Twas the Day After Christmas...
'Twas the Day After Christmas
By A Man Called Da-da
'Twas the day after Christmas, when all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even Da-da's spouse;
The stockings were strewn 'round the chimney with flair,
In hopes that Da-da would clean them up and not swear;
Home-from-school children were using stairs to test sleds,
While visions of past-due sums danced in Da-da's heads;
And mama in her 'kerchief, and Da-da filled with crap,
Had just cleared away the last piles of Christmas wrap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Da-da was forced by mama to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like succotash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up on the sash.
Outside, the sun on Da-da's bust of Henry David Thoreau
Conveyed absolutely no meaning... well, nothing apropos,
When, what to Da-da's crusty eyes should appear,
But a rabble of drunken relatives clanking bottles of cheer.
Dropped by a taxi driver, so lively and accomodative,
Da-da knew in a moment he wasn't a relative.
More vapid than paralegals the bloodsuckers they came,
As Uncle Nick whistled and shouted and called him a name;
"Hey, Da-da! Now, Da-da! You scale model of NIXON!
Get out here you bastard, we need somethin' fer mixin'!"
Quickly, Da-da ran from the porch to escape the wild brawl,
yelling, "Run away! Run away! Run away all!"
As dry heaves that come after the Wild Turkey flies,
When one dodges an obstacle meant to surprise,
So up to the house-top the drunkards they flew,
With a thirst the size of Illinois, and Uncle Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, Da-da heard on the roof
The dancing and pawing owed to drunks 90 proof.
As Da-da planned to disband and was turning around,
Down the chimney Da-da's relatives came with a bound.
They all smelled of liquor, from their head to their foot,
And their brains were all tarnished with something caput;
Their thirst, size of Illinois, they'd just unfurled as their tax,
When Uncle Nick started having one of his attacks.
His eyes -- how they goggled! his apostles how very!
His cheeks were like dozers, his nose like a ferry!
His whole spittled mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the things in his beard were all on the go;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
The smoke of it smelled fresh from something beneath;
He had a gnawed face and quite a round belly,
That threatened to explode like gelignite jelly.
He was dumpy and plump and in rather bad health,
And Da-da tried to be pleasant, in spite of himself;
A wink of Nick's eye and a twist of his head,
Soon let Da-da know he had everything to dread;
The sots spoke not a word, but went straight to their work
Filling stockings with booze, going not quite berserk,
And pulling a booger from inside his nose,
Uncle Nick gave a nod, and out the front door he goes;
They all sprang to the taxi, to the driver gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a drunken epistle.
Da-da heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight,
THANKS FOR THE BOOZE, DON'T BE SO UPTIGHT!
Da-da's Warmin' Up the 2012 Parade Machinery
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| Huh. Those look feisty. Kids, don't put your lips on the giant scorpions. |
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Yule Log in 3-D
Well, not GOOD 3-D. Don't be so picky. Anyway, Happy Holidays to all and to all a quick and early bed-time!
Da-da's Pre-Yule Launch Checklist
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| 11. Gotta give that ball one final frankincense and myrrh polish... |
Friday, December 23, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Whicker Da-da
Dang. It's the solstice, and Da-da's gonna get burned at sundown -- again. Hurts every time. At least they're using a nice BBQ sauce this time. Mmmm, roast Da-da... smells tasty! So, what would one serve with a piquant roast Da-da? Ah.
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| Mmm, Salmon of Knowledge martinis... |
Da-da Doesn't Know About the Rest of You...
...but it's freakin' WWIII at Da-da's house (what's left of it), since Bronko and Nagurski are home for winter break. Anyone with a helicopter and tranquilizer gun are encouraged to stop by and drink all of Da-da's booze if he can borrow your kid-stunning equipment.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Bad Mall Santa Da-da #6
Bad Mall Santa Da-da hasn't been writing much about being Bad Mall Santa Da-da as it went from funny novelty to soul-numbing grind pretty quickly. Forcing yourself to be jolly when you're dead tired and way weary of kiddie materialism -- AND sick as a dog from all the childhood diseases genuflecting through your beard -- not to mention being pooped on and peed on and barfed on and sneezed on, was more than even a veteran Man Called Da-da could bear, but bear it he did. It was terrible UNTIL Santa Da-da suddenly realized that, not only were these not his kids, but Santa Da-da had already turned that parenting corner and never had to go back! No more diapers! No more projectile vomit! No more bodily excretions flying all over the place! Well, unless you sign up to be a Bad Mall Santa Da-da.
[Read Bad Mall Santa Da-da #5, or SING the Bad Mall Santa Da-da theme song!]
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
The Holiday Ties That Bind
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| No doubt that box of Oxydol had something to do with it. Other Oxydol side effects: bunny suit compulsion, BB gun mania, etc. |
Monday, December 19, 2011
Da-da's Pre-Yule Launch Checklist...
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| ...is held up with tape, LOTS of tape. Presently speaking, Da-da does not necessarily have a tape fetish -- not in a weird way, anyway. |
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Da-da's Psychotronic Catalog of Extreme Mental and Physical States of Parental Vagabondage
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| Fig. 69. "Holiday Glee, Level 11." |
Saturday, December 17, 2011
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