Toilets R Us
by Steve West on October 10, 2007
I got a thing for cool looking toilets. What can I say? I'd like most of these to be in Barbie's Dream House except for that face-to-face absurdity. Who thought that was a good idea? And I am not using that hand lotion!!! That last shot I swore I saw the last time I was at Robert Mapplethorpe's house.
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
Like Mother Teresa, Only Better
If you recognize the title of this post, then you are already familiar with Jenny Lawson, aka The Bloggess. I had the opportunity to meet her, briefly, at the Barnes & Noble book signing in Annapolis this weekend. She was larger than life and incredibly funny as she adlibbed before reading a selection from her book, Let's Pretend This Never Happened. Go »Mother's Day Gifts
As an honor to Brenda, we got her some plants for the house and lawn. Nice plants. All now dead from neglect. Go »Darth Vader Is Alive And Well And Living In My Toaster
So we got this gift from a mother-in law who shall remain nameless; a "super-mega-nuclear look at me long enough and your face will melt like that guy in Raiders toaster. There was nothing wrong with our existing toaster but when she saw it on QVC, my nameless mother-in-law had one of those have to have it moments. I've nicknamed the toaster Darth Vader because regardless of the setting, it turns the bread to the dark side every time. Go »Christmas and a Lizard's Tale
One Christmas when Lauren was eight, like a lot of girls her age, wished for a pony. My backyard at the time was about the size of a Volkswagen Minibus. Despite her assurances that she would let it roam the neighborhood for sufficient exercise, I said, “Not this year,” as I pictured myself following the horse with a pooper scooper. Go »Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas
My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Go »
