Giant Farts, Epic Ear Fur, and Vultures That Stare

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?”  ~Satchel Paige

It is happening.  Ugh.  I’m getting old.  The proof is on the top of my head–right in the middle. Where the part is.  Boldly sticking up in odd angles amidst my red curly hair are–I can barely force myself to admit this–GREY HAIRS.  As I have mentioned previously, I really screwed up when I went through the DNA-selection line-up.  It would seem that I opted for all the negative traits from each of my parents–the short, hammer-toed, freckly genes.  And the one that makes my hair shift from copper to white in my early forties.

My husband noticed them first.  Likely because he is a foot taller than me and spends a great deal of his life looking at the top of my head.  And also because he is the most observant person I have ever met.  Seriously, I live with a real life Columbo.  Except less bumbling and without the  wrinkled clothing.

So how have I coped with my unwelcomed white hairs?  I haven’t.  I pluck the ones at the front and my husband does the rest.  We are extremely careful not to pull any of the treasured reds.  It’s the ones that are white on the ends and red by the root that confuse me.  Is this a hair that couldn’t decide what colour it wanted to be?  I could see it starting out red, then getting tired and turning grey.  But why go from grey to red again?  Is my new Pantene condition the equivalent to Geritol for hair?

Can anyone explain this phenomenon?  Am I just a freak with mutant hair?

1)  OMG.  I nearly pee’d myself.  I realize that incontinence comes with getting older, but this time it was due to laughter.  Lots of it.  The source of my mirth–the Guinness World Record Holder for  the longest ear hair.

Seriously, who lets themselves look like this?  Apparently, India’s Victor Anthony does.  His flowing earlocks are 18.1 cm (7.12 inches) long.  Who lets their ear hair get longer than their head hair?

How the hell does he hear?  Just now I wound up some of my head hair and shoved it in my ears.  It significantly muffled the Jeopardy theme song.   Ah.  Now I know why he keeps it.

2)  Have I told you how much I love the Japanese?  Seriously.  The more I blog, the more I want to go to Tokyo and have a square watermelon, a tube of hard-boiled egg, and eat a square of a tomato chocolate bar.

I might even have to check out one of their cutting edge fashion shows like the one pictured here–An Adult Diaper show.  Seriously, first it’s grey hair.  Next, it’s Depends.

Actually, it turns out Depends is not our only option.  Diaper manufacturers showcased their newest models as happy and extremely dry men and women paraded the catwalk to 80’s hits like Frankie Goes to Hollywood‘s Relax.  How can anyone relax when they are wearing a diaper over their clothes?  On stage to boot?  And to make matters more complicated they are raising their arms in the air.  I could never do that on stage wearing diapers.  The nerve-induced pit-stains would clear out the whole front row.

Obviously, the Japanese are much braver people than I.

  3)  The older I get, the more I fart.  And they aren’t cute little popcorn farts either.  They are foamy-sounding monsters.  It’s like a giant balloon being deflated in my pants.  I’m not worried though.  No matter how bad they get, my flatulence will never pose a threat to Global Warming.

Yes, I went from farts to Global Warming.  Why?  Well, it turns out that scientists are now blaming the dinosaur’s intestinal tract for ancient Global Warming.  Yes, their farts were that bad.   It is believed that dinosaurs produced more methane than all of today’s natural and man-made pollutants combined.  Damn vegetarian diet.

Photo Credits:  Ear hairs,  (missosology.info),  Diaper Fashion Show (inventorspot.com), Vultures (http://bigeyedeer.wordpress.com/2007/07/03/this-cartoon-is-circling-in-the-sky-above-you/).

Pig Eyes, a Unibrow, and a Dude With 23 Names

My head hurts.  I don’t know if anyone else gets this, but I have an eye that from time-to-time decides it no longer want to sit alongside my other eye.  It chooses, rather, to align itself with my left nostril.  Seriously.  The eyebrow always does what the eye tells it to, so it ventures downwards also.  Needless to say, I look like a freak.  On days like this, it is very difficult to apply eye make-up.  (I admit that I am a “girly” girl and venturing out amongst the humans with naked eyes is not something I do on a regular basis).  I have fare eyelashes.  Without my mascara, I have pig eyes.  Honestly.  Have you ever looked at a pig’s eyes?  I know that pigs are cute, but they’re cute despite their eyes.  And pig eyes really don’t work on a person.

So, now I look doubly freakish.  Not only do I have pig eyes, but they are asymmetrical too.  I look like a Picasso painting in the flesh.  Don’t even bring up the possibility of hiding behind my sunglasses.  For one thing, I misplaced those a couple of days ago, so I have been reduced to wearing a pair of old ones.  And they have green frames.  I think they’ve been kicking around since the early 90’s, but that’s no excuse.  Forest green frames.  What was I thinking?  Plus, due to the recent migration of my left eyebrow, I now only have one furry caterpillar sitting over my frames.  Sunglasses look weird when you can only see one eyebrow.  And drawing one over the left frame is not an option.  Imagine taking my sunglasses off and showing the world that I now have three eyebrows.  Okay, one is down around my nose.  More like a moustache to one side, but still.

Sorry for the whinefest, but I really needed to vent.  Does anyone else have this problem?  Seriously, my eye professionals are stumped.  I will now focus on the task at hand–my three facts of the day.

1)  Speaking of Picasso, I haven’t actually delved into the world of Art for any strange new facts yet.  So, here it goes.  The name “Pablo Picasso” is a good name.  Has a nice ring to it.  It flows.

Unfortunately, for Mr. Picasso–his real name is not quite so simple.  In fact, his full name has 23 words.  His complete moniker is:  Pablo Diego José Francisco de Paula Juan Nepomuceno María de los Remedios Cipriano de la Santísima Trinidad Martyr Patricio Clito Ruíz y Picasso.

Apparently, he was named for several relations and some Saints.  And everyone his mother had ever met.

I bet he never signed a cheque.  Who could blame him?

Van Gogh lopped off an ear.  Picasso whacked off 21 names or so.

Which brings me to this freaky little car.  This is a re-designed Citroen dedicated to and inspired by Picasso.  A British mechanic spent six months creating this masterpiece he calls “Picasso’s Citroen.”

Ironically, Citroen does have a model called the “Picasso” (pictured here).

Not quite sure how it got this name–it is rather staid for something inspired by the legendary artist who created humans out of cubes.  There is a Grand Picasso as well and it is rather mini-van-ish.  Picasso was known as a great Playboy–hardly the mini-van type.  I rather imagine him driving a giant phallic symbol like a 1970s Stingray or a modern-day Dodge Challenger.

Maybe it’s just  me.

2)  Like I said, pigs have small blank eyes.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  This little pooch pictured here, however, does not have that problem.  He has the antithesis to pig eyes.  The Marty Feldman of the dog world, one could say.

This dog’s penetrating stare has earned him the Guinness World Record for the dog with the largest eyes.  Not bad for a little lad that was once a pound puppy.  Bruschi the Boston Terrier‘s owner, Victoria Reed, says she didn’t notice her dogs large eyes until her friends commented on them.  Really?  Is she blind?  Is this her first time seeing a dog?

It was these comments that led her to contact the Guinness World Records people and the rest is history.

Not only are his eyes big, but they seem to point in different directions.  She didn’t notice?  Really?  I think she deserves some sort of award.

3)  When I think of a unibrow, Sesame’s Street’s Bert comes to mind.  Let’s face it.  Bert pulls off the unibrow look with style and finesse.  Maybe it’s the lemon yellow skin.  Or his tuft of black hair.  Whatever it is, it works.  On him.

Outside the Muppet world, sporting one large, unending eyebrow is not exactly going to win you dates.  Unless you are in Tajikistan.  According to Wikipedia, the women there are wild about the unibrow.  Apparently, it is a sign of virility.  Personally, I think it is a sign of not owning tweezers.

It turns out that George W. Bush also has a proclivity for synophrys (the official medical term for this condition.  Yes, it is a condition).  During his tenure as President of the U.S.A., George Double-Ya’s unibrow was divided in to two.  But in his early shots, like this one here on vacation with his wife, he clearly sports a Bert brow.

According to a Victorian criminologist by the name of “Cesare Lombroso“, people who are genetically inclined to having one giant eyebrow are also more likely to engage in criminal activity.  Hm.  Not only does George W. prove this theory, but many of TV’s not-so-nice characters possess unibrows (Bert, of course, is the exception.  If I were a Muppet, I’d marry Bert).  But here are just a few of TV’s un-friendly unibrows:

The Simpsons , Maggie, may be young, but not too young to have an arch nemesis.  This is him.  Notice that this evil baby sports a unibrow.

Lemony Snickett’s A Series of Unfortunate Events’ Count Olaf dons a handlebar-style unibrow.

 And, of course,  The Men Show’s Mr. Stubborn and Mr. Grumpy (the ones with the negative traits) also have eyebrows that meet in the middle.

If I had a unibrow, would it stay in place or would I have one giant lopsided eyebrow?  Thanks to my Tweezerman pointed tweezers, I’ll never have to find out.

Photo Credits:  Picasso’s Citroen (neatorama.com),  Citroen Picasso, (carautoportal.com), Big-eyed dog (Guinness World Records.com),  George W. Bush (unibrowclub.com), Simpsons baby (tvtropes.org).  Count Olaf (fanpop.com),

Poke Me In the Pancreas, Throw Me a Loin Cloth, and Don’t Call Me Dick.

I wish I was a dog.  Seriously, dogs seem to completely lack self-awareness.  Either that or they possess the most skewed self-images found in mammalia.  As I’ve told you before, I am short.  Five feet tall to be exact.  I put up with short jokes, have to rely on the charity of others to reach cans in the grocery store, and pay exorbitant amounts of money on having my pants hemmed.  (Thank God for capris–finally, pants that fit.  Unfortunately, they are long pants on me.  I guess if I want actual capris, I’ll have to buy shorts.)

The entire world seems to be designed to remind me that I lack height.  And that I suck at basketball.  Short dogs, however, do not have these problems.  And not just because they don’t wear pants.  Or shop for groceries.  Dogs seem to be oblivious to their height.  Rodent-sized toy varieties have no qualms about running up to Great Danes and barking ferociously at them–perhaps, saying something like “hey you, get off my lawn.”  And more often than not, the horse-sized canine will do exactly as the little dog says.

Dogs seem to have no idea what they look like.  Maybe I should adopt the dog’s approach to life.  I am six feet tall and my legs are long and shapely.  This could become my new mantra.  “I am six feet tall and my legs are long and shapely.”  

But I know this will only last until I try to reach for a mug.

Hmm…according to Wikipedia, the average height for a female among Bolivia’s Aymara people is 4’8″.  Note  to self: look into possibility of emigrating to Bolivia and likelihood of acceptance into its indigenous community.

1)  I haven’t featured a bizarre Japanese product in a while, so I thought it was time.  Meet the “anatomical” sleeping bag.  I’m not quite sure what the thought process was of its creator, but I have arrived at a few conclusions of my own.  This would be ideal if you needed to accurately pierce a specific organ of a sleeping foe.  Perhaps a dagger through the heart of a napping vampire?

While camping, it would give bears an edge on selecting human delicacies.  Hm…I feel like liver this morning.  Now where is that?  Oh, ya.  Right about here.

It also makes skinny slumberers look muscular.

This model is currently sold out, but you can put it on your “wishlist” here…http://www.japastuff.com/products/381-anatomical-model-sleeping-bag.aspx

2)  (Time for another one of my awesome segues).  Speaking of body parts, it’s amazing the things one can learn while watching TV–even lame sitcoms.  Case in point–while “sort of” watching That 70’s Show (it never quite manages to fully capture and hold my attention), I caught Eric Foreman telling someone about a race car driver named “Dick Trickle.”  Seriously, that is his name.  Now if I had the name “Richard” and the last name “Trickle,” I never would have opted to go by “Dick.”  Maybe this guy has a great sense of humour.  Or maybe it was a marketing gimmick.  I will never forget that name for sure.

So, in case you are new to the world of Dick Trickle, here is a little bit about this man with the name that makes fifth-graders the world over giggle.  And some middle-aged women like me.

He is the short-track driver with the most wins in history.  He has logged over a million laps (I get car-sick just thinking about it).  And he has won over 1000 races.

Now you know.  This Dick can drive.

3)  Speaking of Dicks, what on earth is behind this loin cloth?  This is, perhaps, the creepiest roadside attraction I have ever seen.  And while doing this blog, I have seen a LOT of them.

This Bigfoot rendition is found in front of a gas station in the town of Vermilion Bay, Ontario.  He is 18 feet tall and weighs 3800 pounds.  And what the heck is in his mouth?  Is he smoking a giant cigar or is he chewing on a giant tootsie roll?

Apparently, Bigfoot a la Vermilion Bay was created one summer by someone who was just passing through town.  I guess he had time to spare.  Or asylums to hide from.

And to make this apparition even creepier, it is equipped with a speaker and has been known, on occasion, to speak to innocent sightseers. Maybe its maker is actually trapped inside.

It’s Canada Day, eh?

Today is Canada Day and my “home and native land” is officially 145 years old–a youngster as far as nations go, eh?  I hope you will indulge me as I dedicate today’s blog to the land of beavers, maple trees, and hockey pucks.

We Canadians know what the rest of the world thinks of us–mostly thanks to the way we are depicted in American television shows.  According to these depictions, we use monopoly money, drink a lot of beer, apologize constantly, and end every sentence with “eh.”  We’re not offended by these portrayals.  In fact, we are renowned for our great sense of humours–and spelling “humour” with a “u”, by the way.  Only in Canada, would you find currency named Loonies and Toonies.  One of our biggest exports to our southern neighbour is  comedians.  And there is an art to using “eh” correctly–and only we “Canucks” seem to have this gift.

Although it is very un-Canadian to brag, I must apologize and ask for you to humour (again with the “u”) me as I share a few Canadian facts:

-Canada is the second largest nation in the world.  But our population density is very low at 3.7 people per square kilometre.  Yes, we operate in metric.  This may explain why our American neighbours think we live in igloos and commute to work via sled dog.  When our weather forecasts say it is 32 degreesin July, this does not equate to your 32 degrees–the temperature at which water freezes.  It actually means we are enjoying a balmy 90 degrees.  Yes, it does get hot here.  We own barbecues, swimming pools, and bikinis–not just toques, parkas, and mukluks.
-We are home to the longest coastline in the world, the world’s highest tide, and the largest island in a freshwater lake.  In Canada, we do things big.  Just look at those fuzzy Mountie hats.   How much guarding can these guys do when they’ve got hat fur in their eyes?  This must have been our Queen’s idea (yes, we are part of the British Commonwealth and, on occasion, sing “God Save the Queen”)–have you seen her hats?

-We ranked 5th on the World Happiness Report–massive beer consumption and several pucks to the head will do that.

-And only 40% of us have a favourable opinion of Don Cherry. It’s gotta be the clothes.  I’d be crusty if I had a starchy collar that went up to my ears.

-We have two official languages, although the province of Quebec only recognizes one.

-54% of our nation is made up of forests and woodlands.  Yes, we have lots of lumber.  And moose.  And bears.  And maple syrup.  Yum.

This is what our flag looks like.  We have beavers on our nickels, but our Parliament has actually considered removing the giant rodent from this coin.  Apparently, it is not considered a “noble” creature.  I, personally, am fond of our buck-toothed little friend.

And Canadians can be found everywhere–on your movie screens, your TV sets, and your concert stages.  Here is a sampling of famous Canadians:

Keanu Reeves, Howie Mandel, Pamela Anderson, Dan Aykroyd, Ryan Reynolds, Rachel McAdams, Jim Carrey, Avril Lavigne, Neve Campbell, John Candy, Justin Bieber, Nelly Furtado, Seth Rogen, Willima Shatner, Shania Twain, Alan Thicke, Donald Sutherland, Alanis Morissette, Eugene Levy, Martin Short, Jill Hennessy, Phil Hartman, Paul Anka, Kim Cattrall, Nathan Fillion, Michael J. Fox, Ryan Gosling, Marty Hall, Sarah Chalke, Kiefer Sutherland, Peter Jennings, Celine Dion, Bryan Adams, Sarah McLachlan, Catherine O’Hara.

Photos:  Mounties (Wayne Cuddington, The Ottawa Citizen), Don Cherry (Bruce Bennett/Getty Images),