500 Pineapples for The One-Armed Z-List

With soaring hopes of turning Critical Fluff into a narrative menagerie of fat dogs stuck in garden accoutrements, dead miniature frogs, and gimpy rodents, I have pictures for you.

This is the one-armed squirrel. I had the privilege of meeting him in-the-flesh on Christmas morning when I went home to visit my parents. A treat, I tell ya.



And this is him eating the altruistically-deshelled nuts.



And this is him chewing his nuts carefully so he does not choke (as we all should do).
Please pay extra attention to the hanging arm. It is limper than a wet old sock named Floppy.



Now, in return for seeing an indisposed squirrel, go join Squidoo and up my ranking. The one-armed squirrel says thanks, yo.
He also says, "F you, Jaynie K, for using my disability to garner votes."

Whatever, Onesie, whatever.

In Memoriam: 300 Pineapples

I am sad to report that Bread's Second Coming was followed forthwith by his Second Death.

I went home at lunch yesterday to find him sprawled on the aquarium pebbles, covered in a white peat moss type substance.

I reasoned that either he went out and purchased a cute little frog sweater or he was shrouded in death fluff.

It was the dead thing.

Clarissa laid on top of him, as if to assuage his pain. Well, that or she's a necro.

So, last night, at 11:58pm EST my dear little Bread became one with the City of Somerville septic system. He marched to his death like a soldier, on a black plastic kitchen spoon (or, rather, I marched him to his death like a soldier, but whatever). He floated languidly and then descended. It was cyclic and beautiful.

(I later decided to discard said spoon, reasoning that a new $3 spoon would be a better choice than remembering his tiny limp legs every time I stirred rice.)

But, because nothing is ever settled in FrogWorld-Davis Square Branch, this morning presented an entirely new development.

The pink plastic aquarium plant had unlodged itself from the floor-pebbles and was floating at the top of the tank. Both Frankie and Clarissa were stuck in it.

I pushed it around with a chopstick, and then tried to replant the thing at the bottom, but couldn't get it to stay for any amount of struggle. (Jason, how did you get those things in originally??)

Frank and Claris are moving around again now, but are obviously upset and shaken. Poor things; first, one-third of your social circle dies, then a piece of pink sea-flora 8 times your body size releases itself from the ground, floating to the sky... with you entangled in it.
No, that is not a good day.

I need to find those guys something really nice for Christmas.

[flickr thanks to bcmom.]

190 Pineapples for Bread

For Christmas, I asked for frogs. Specifically, Mini African frogs.

Well, Christams being awesome and all, I got them, the frogs. Early. Early, as it is not Christmas yet. Early as a result of the warm temps yesterday.
Easier for transport of amphibians. So they say.

So yea, I am totally in love with them.

Pictures to come, but first I will introduce you to them textually.

Littlest Frog: Name is Frankie. Has semi-transparent skin and a reddish leg. Likes to float at the top of the tank and chill. If he were a person, he would be a 145-pound guy wearing a two-tone yellow ringer tee and a striped wool hat.

Middle Frog: Clarissa, named after Mrs.Dalloway fame. Active, but not spastic. Likes flowers and lace. Likes to lay on top of the other frogs. In other words, the resident slut.

Big Guy: Named Bread. Kinda like Madonna. Or Meatloaf. Or Sade.
A lumbering fellow. Like a tall tale guy, Paul Bunyan or John Henry or whatever.
Poor Bread (see below).

SO. Story.

Yesterday I brought the crew home and went about transferring them from carrying tote plastic thing to aquarium.

Fine so far.
Then, 30 minutes pass. And Bread is not moving.
Then an hour.
Then three.
Still, Bread lay still, wedged in the corner of the tank, unswayed by any amount of glass-tapping and freezedried-bloodworm-feeding.

I call Jason: "Bread has passed on."

We mourn. It is sad.

We discuss getting another frog to replace Bread, though would that be too soon? Too heartless?

Oh Bread, dearest, we heardly knew ye.

I didn't want to deal with the deathness of it all til morning.
I slept restlessly, thinking of how I would scoop him out of the corner with a dessert spoon in the morning. And flush him. And it would be horrid.

I got up this morning. Poured myself a glass of water. Turned to say hello to the froggies.

BREAD! He was gone.

No, he was there, on the other side of the tank.
Moving sluggishly, but totally totally alive.

A true Christmas miracle!
GO BREAD GO!

Bread is like Jesus '06.
His new nickname is totally Manna.

18 Pineapples for Dinosaurs Who Like Peanut Butter

BamCast Episode 2 is up over at BMA.

If you feel any emotion whatsoever toward IKEA (even apathy), you should listen.

Also, Jason, shocked that you memed it up.
Also, I highly respect your cult TV choices; Rayanne's a keeper.

15 Pineapples and for the 5 Meme

I've been meme-bopped by Paul (btw, hope that your doctor's appt went well today and you're on your way to sitcom super-stardom).

Looks like the whole marketing branch of this crazy blogosphere is getting tagged, so I'll agreeably play along. Even more, I intend to enjoy it.

The topic of the meme: 5 things you probably don't know about me. This is hard, because those of you who know me in real life, like, know me in real life. And, well, know these things. So I will mostly cater this internetically.

Okay, um, here:

1. I'm a towering 5'2", but wear a boat-like size 9 shoe. This makes me hard to tip over.

2. I'm positive that I would absolutely love Finnegan's Wake... if I could ever get all the way through it.

3. My drink of choice is whiskey on the rocks with a lime, preferably Maker's or Dalmore. Although I'm really enjoying the Jack Single Barrel I'm currently working on. (thanks EK!)

4. a.) I was the captain of my high school track and cross-country teams. In 10th grade, I elbowed a girl at the finish line, knocking her to the ground. I was DQ'ed and reprimanded.

b.) I ran cross-country and track in college. Upon fracturing my foot in four places and being banned from running, my coach caught me limp-jogging backwards on the track around midnight one night. I was reprimanded in a similar fashion to 4a.

5. I was a competitive figure skater until I was 16. I blame my (lack of) height on that.

6. [I'm on a roll... forget 5...] I am obsessed with dogs, and desperately want one of my own, preferably a yellow lab named Lila.

7. I may hold the World Record for # of Online First Dates.

8. I have a white cat puppet named FMK (Frosted Mini Kitty). She talks with a voicebox because she had a tracheotomy when she was six months old.

9. I wear multiple necklaces nearly every day. Most of them used to be my grandmother's. [Listen, retro is in.]

10. When I was 11 or 12, I was convinced that I was going to marry Jonathan Brandis (you know, the kid from Ladybugs). Now I'm pretty sure it'll be Topher Grace. The two of us may or may not have an affair with Scarlet Johansson.

10. My favorite dessert is soft serve ice cream in a cone with rainbow sprinkles. I also love jordan almonds.

11. I really like my job.

12. My favorite movie is Ghostworld. My favorite book is The Body Artist. I have a signed copy that would be one of the items that I grab first if I were ever in a fire.

13. I feel safer and happier when wrapped in a blanket. Even in the summer. I'm pretty much always freezing.

14. I'm an only child, and I'm very close with my parents and beagle. Not enough alone time causes me to kill people (in a nice way, of course).

15. (an offshoot of 14) I live alone.


Great. Now, who's gonna get tagged?
Ummm... how about Kate, Jason (dooo it), Tom, Steph, and Jenny.

Don't let me down.

29 Crabapples for Your Scoop

See, I'm not in a *bad* mood right now. Not in the least.

Just more of a "whatever-whatever-whatever" feeling. Like, I just opened a new bottle of wine, started to pour, and realized I didn't really have the energy to taste it. So I stopped the pour so I wouldn't squander it.
(Sure, "squander" was a stupid word to use, but "waste" rhymed with taste and sounded embarrassingly deliberate.)

Stopped the pour? What the fuck is wrong with me?
Seriously.

But, listen, I am not too distracted to find out what flavor of ice cream I am.

You Are Chocolate Chip Ice Cream

You are kind, popular, and generous. You tend to be successful at anything you try. A social butterfly, you are great at entertaining a crowd. You are most compatible with strawberry ice cream.

Fuck that. Chocolate chip is a stupid flavor.

Wow, I do care about things. All is not lost.

[On an unrelated (and less trivial) note, and I meant to mention it a few days ago: Congrats to Jon Lester!]

131 Welcome Pineapples to Jaynie Kincess

This morning, I took my raging dorkdom to a brand new level.

I joined Second Life.

I know, I know, I know... I'm not even that kind of dork.
I'm not.

Listen, I don't even know how it happened. I was eating Cheerios, drinking coffee, reading my Sunday quota of blogs, and suddenly I had convinced myself that I wanted to be part of this world. Because Paul is. And CK. and Tim.

Pure blogospheric pressure.
Illustrious, contagious nerderization.

Also, I reasoned, it'll be good research for work.

And, to be perfectly honest, I sorta just wanted to make an awesome avatar with a cool new Linden-based last name. And sweet leather pants.

5 Mulligans. And I'm Sorry.

Listen, my iBook up and died.
It will come back to life. I know it. An Apple Nerd will wave his/her magic wand and recite some cool chant and my baby will come back to me.
I will be handed a dandelion wreath and I will skip.

Until that marvelous time, everyone please send my iBook best wishes.
It also likes fruit baskets.

If you're looking for something to listen to, WiffitiCast 3 is up, and so is the first BAMCast. You can also watch this gem of gems.

Happy Friday!

13 Pineapples for Maybe-A-Dog

My next door apartment neighbor has a boyfriend who has a dog. He brings it over a lot. This is not allowed. I am guessing, by its footfalls and overall clomping, that it is a black lab. OH!

No, no, no... I don't want to tell on her. I just want to pat it.
But is that overly super weird to go over and ask to pat it?

yes, right?

A Bushel of Pineapples If You Have Headphones At Work

The first BAMCast is up at Beyond Madison Avenue.

Take a listen if you'd like. I talk about Ben and Jerry's and a creepy Elvis Teddy Bear and a snappy-dapper wine site.

Also, kate.d. was so right.
Casino Royale? Kick you in the shins in a good way good.

oh so very good.