Ice-skating chimps

That's right: ice-skating chimps.

The website incorrectly labels them as ice-skating monkeys, but they are in error. Chimpanzees aren't monkeys. They're apes.

Anyway. Ice-skating chimps right here. My favorite moment? Right around the 1:10 mark. It involves a rope.

The persistence of corvidae* memory

*Corvidae is a cosmopolitan family of oscine passerine birds that contains the crows, ravens, rooks, jackdaws, jays, magpies, etc.


You could be forgiven, I suppose, for not knowing how smart crows are. Most people think crows are just a loud pain in the ass, but the crow is a noble and handsome beast, one that possesses a wide-ranging dialect and a fierce intelligence. Crows use tools, unlock cages and have even been known to mimic human speech. Scientists who have studied them say that they are somewhere above dogs but below dolphins on the animal intelligence scale. And it appears that they can even remember human faces and subsequently hold a grudge, according to this fascinating article in the New York Times.

So give the crow a break, would you? Next time you stroll through your neighborhood and one barks at you, just cluck back. It's probably just saying hello.

Oh - one more boastful thing: the color image above is an oil painting of a raven I did way back in 2003 for a group show. Some woman bought it, and now I like to think that it hangs in someone's private wood-paneled library, where a gentleman sits under it smoking his curvy pipe in an overstuffed chair.

As seen on ebay

Lou appears to be a happy, well-adjusted fellow, and most likely worthy of my trust. I think I will visit his ebay store.

I do believe that Lou's moustache may be the densest one I've ever seen. That thing is comprised of billions upon billions of coarse, wiry follicles, each waiting to snatch an errant fly as it buzzes past.

Puny humans to run amok at art exhibition, Hulk remains unimpressed

That’s only because The Hulk is notoriously close-minded when it comes to the visual arts. However, those who are more predisposed to dip their toes into the waters of creativity and unshackled techno geekery are wholly encouraged to come out tomorrow night (that's Saturday to you) and see a gallery exhibition of artistry by our good pals at Puny, Northeast Minneapolis’ torch-bearers of eye-popping, electronically-borne visual stimuli.

There will be a wide-ranging display of arty things, live music, a DJ, and if I were a betting man, I would say that there will most likely be various types of free crackers on paper plates as well. Details here.

The stuff of nightmares

So the Milwaukee Zoo has a new baby orangutan named Mahal, and it's biological mother died, so they've brought in a foster mom orangutan, and subsequently the plight of Mahal has captured the hearts and minds of Milwaukeeans (God knows how many single-parent and orphaned babies spring from the city's huge inner city, but who cares about them, right Milwaukee? It like Gordon Gekko said in "Wall Street": "That's the thing about WASP's. They love animals, can't stand people.").

Anyhoo, they had some contest where kids could draw Mahal, and here's one of the winners. Ready? I hope so:



Gahhh!! Make it go away!

Seriously, that's terrifying. Somehow the "I love you" makes it even weirder. Not sure why, but it does.

Keepin' it classy

Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt has been raising eyebrows at the Olympics, not only for smashing world records and winning 2 gold medals, but his celebratory behavior afterward. What's he done? Oh, not much, really. From an AP story:

"Bolt made little effort to congratulate the other runners as he wrapped himself in a Jamaican flag and set off on a solo victory lap. Swaying to the reggae music on the stadium loudspeakers, he walked barefoot around the track, putting his face inches from a TV camera, raising an index finger and yelling, "I am No. 1! I am No. 1!"

I'm a little disappointed he didn't bend one of the other runners over and pretend to mount them, but hey, there's always London in 2012.

Book cover of the year

Simple. Direct. Powerful. It literally stopped me in my tracks during a lunchtime visit to Barnes & Noble.

Bigfoot body press conference lamest thing since "Grease 2."

I mean, if you're going to concoct a hoax, at least bring a little bit of craft to the table. Gimme a little bit of sizzle. And for f@*k's sake, if you're going to stage a press conference claiming to have the body of a Bigfoot, it might be a good idea to actually bring the body.

Who was Count Dante?

If you read comic books in the early-to-mid 1970's, you no doubt remember this full-page ad, which was seemingly in every Marvel comic published back then (not sure about DC titles, I was more of a Marvel guy):



Ah yes...Count Dante. A man so deadly that he glowed hot pink. And check out that classy-but-deadly script his name is rendered in. Plus, he flat-out says that he's the deadliest man alive. I never sent away for his free booklet of fighting secrets, probably because I was 7 years old and things never got so serious on the playground that I had to consider plucking out another kids eyeball.

As it turns out, there is a story behind this ad, and it's a good one. Count Dante was a rather notorious fellow, and aside from knocking on Muhammad Ali's door and challenging him to a fight, storming rival dojo's and walking around Chicago's lakefront with a lion on a leash, he was also suspected of being involved in a $4 million heist. Plus, he also ran a beauty salon, where he styled the hair of Playboy playmates! All this before dying in 1975 at the tender age of 36. Well, as Dr. Eldon Tyrell told Roy Batty, "The star that burns twice as bright burns half as long."

"By cutting her hair in long layers, I have given this dreary
housewife a more contemporary look. Now, I will snap her neck like a twig."

Now that I've got you salivating for more info, here's a link to a very interesting and much more in-depth look at the life of Count Dante, courtesy of the Chicago Reader.

Also, the story mentions a filmmaker who is currently working on documentary of the Count (something I would gladly pay to see), and he's selling cool t-shirts as a fund-raising tool. You can get those here. I went with the military green.

You know - there are times I look around at this world we've wrought and I weep for all that's gone awry. And then there are times like this, when by following a few links I discover that I can buy a t-shirt with Count Dante on it, and I think that somehow, everything's going to be OK.

The moment of my vindication is nigh

So a press conference has been set up for this Friday, because some dudes claim that they have in their possession the carcass of an actual Sasquatch. Details here.

Part of me is naturally skeptical of this claim. The reasons I am skeptical are thus:

1.) I'm naturally skeptical.

2.) People never seem to tire of staging dopey Bigfoot hoaxes.

3.) Anyone with half a brain knows that Bigfoots head off to a mysterious and hidden "Elephants Graveyard"-style valley to die, making the likelihood of finding a deceased specimen nil.

Naturally, I will be reporting on this story as it unfolds. But like I said, part of me fears some lame viral marketing ploy and is highly skeptical.

But the other half of me is pretty excited. How excited? Well, it can be summed up in three words: raging hard-on.

Quote of the year

Actually, this may be of quote of the decade. Or even, dare I say, the millennium.

I spent today recording a radio campaign at a production house here in town. During lunch I was flipping through an issue of People magazine whilst punishing the build-your-own-gyro spread they brought in for lunch, and I saw that there was a short article about Bret Michaels (lead singer of Poison and star of VH1's 'Rock of Love") hair philosophy (I shit you not). You know - why he has long hair, what he likes about long hair, etc. And within that was nestled this beautiful stanza from Bret regarding his long hair:

"It says 'I am a wild child. I will take you on a Harley ride, then make passionate love to you. And should you be attacked by a lion or an idiot in a bar, I will protect you."

I cannot believe dude had the balls to swipe my marriage vows. I worked long and hard on those, Brett. Rest assured my attorney will in touch soon.

Guilty as charged

A friend who reads the blog emailed me today after reading my post on my other friend's 'ghetto charisma'. He thought it was only fair to point out that there was a place that I dragged him to on several occasions in the 90's (OK, and maybe a couple times in the aughts). The place? Well, see for yourselves:



That's right: Ponderosa. That all-you-can-eat salad bar is sublime. Plus, you can't beat a sirloin and buffet for $8.99. For some insane reason the mighty Ponderosa has no presence (or pentration, as they say in the retail biz) here in Minnesota, so when I go back to Milwacky
I have to indulge.

Notes from a Perkins virgin

This weekend I got together with a friend to work on a long-gestating web project, and somehow he talked me into doing this at a Perkins restaurant, an eatery of dubious distinction that festoons seemingly every corner of this great land of ours, and one I've managed to avoid in my 40 years on this planet.

My review? Small portions of sub-par food. I would have to give it 1/2 a fork. And that's only because the waitress was pretty attentive and kept refilling my water glass before it was even empty.

This isn't the first time this particular friend has led me into a low-grade wasteland. In fact, he excels at it. Sometime ago I coined a phrase for his ability to somehow talk me into visiting establishments that I know suck.
I said he possesses "Ghetto Charisma."

Here are just a few of the places this harbinger of crud has gotten me to frequent, either in his presence or at his fervent recommendation, that I would have otherwise never step foot in:

Radio Shack

Old Country Buffet

Auto Zone

TCF Bank (I not only belong to this bank now, but I sucked my wife into its low-rent clutches as well. This "dragged into the gutter by proxy" demonstrates how powerful his ghetto charisma truly is.)

Perkins

Denny's

Arby's / Sbarro combo restaurant

Buffalo Wild Wings

William's Bar (unsavory meat-market in uptown Minneapolis where you will choke on the fog of Axe body spray hanging in the air)

Various crummy Chinese food buffets

I'm certain that I'm forgetting some. I'm also certain this list will grow in the future.

坏驴子

That's the Chinese character-equivalent of "bad-ass," because that's how I would have to describe the opening ceremony of the Summer Olympics on Friday. That was some serious spectacle, and if you didn't watch it you missed out on some pretty impressive shit.

In other news, Brett Favre in no longer a Packer, which sucks.

Amenities are important

When looking for a new apartment, there are several factors to consider. What defines luxury? I guess it's all in the eye of the beholder. But sexiness is always near the top of the list.

Thank you, Uptown Minneapolis, for being the sort of place that would post a sign such as this. You are truly sexy.