This Might Be the Strangest Thing I’ve Ever Seen

I see weird things. When you work in a zoo or have kids, weird becomes a way of life.

Chameleons who have outgrown the tiny branches scrunches down like baby Huey so it’ll fit? Nah, that’s normal.

Go play in the big yard, kid. You're not a toddler anymore!

Go play in the big yard, kid. You’re not a toddler anymore!

Memorial auto decals?

A generic decal with an oddly specific lifespan. 2003 was a bad year for 16 year-old hog enthusiasts.

A generic decal with an oddly specific lifespan. 2003 was a bad year for 16 year-old hog enthusiasts. I do not like. Source

Yes, weird. I haven’t changed my mind. But not the weirdest. I just saw something that took the taco when it comes to the inexplicable.

I was walking in a park I’ve visited a dozen times or more, and tonight for the first time, I noticed this. Click to enlarge. It’s still a terrible picture, but you can see it better.

A head. On a wooden post. Just a head.

A head. On a wooden post. Just a head.

Need a closeup? Brace yourself.

I'm frightened

Hold me, Mommy!  I’m SCARED!

I walked around this… I don’t know what to call it. Statue? Obelisk? Travesty? I’ll go with that one… and I walked around it some more. I thought I was tired, or maybe someone had slipped some drugs in my Fiber One snack cake. (Shut up. They’re tasty, and who doesn’t like to poop?) But no. It’s a head mounted on a post.

A nice plaque rests right in front identifying the disembodied head as that of a former mayor. Questions. I have questions.

  • Was it sculpted out of play-doh by a class of preschoolers? The stump neck has too many thumb prints for my comfort.
  • Could they not afford a whole statue? Did they, perhaps, buy it on time? Will the torso arrive this Christmas?
  • Is this statue a warning to the surrounding counties as to what happens when you cut the library budget?
  • Did the former mayor step down, or was he cut down in a battle with a goblin?
  • Was his successor Vlad the Impaler?


I know bronze work is expensive, but maybe save some money and plant a nice tulip garden instead? Just a suggestion.

What weird things have you seen this week?

Pet Peeves Du Jour, Volume 743

I do not know why I am crabby today. It’s raining? I have a million things to do, but I’m completely uninspired? My Ricky Martin CD has a giant scratch on it? All my readers dumped me because I like “Living La Vida Loca?” Take your pick.

Preschoolers with squeakers in their shoes. When a baby begins to take those first wobbly steps, little squeaker-shoes are kind of cute. When the kid has the speed and coordination to train for the Boston Marathon, it’s time to give us all a break. Mom and Dad, you realize that the other people around you have ears, too, right?

Politicians who write off any concern for the environment as a strictly liberal agenda. The Lord gave man dominion over the animals in Genesis 1:26. Dominion is not equal to BDSM. Just because God put is in charge doesn’t mean we have the right to go all Christian Grey on the planet and screw it over every which way from Sunday, dumping poisons into the sky and water and killing our forests. Besides, I thought the notion of not pooping where we eat was more common sense than political.

Radio stations that play the same ten songs. Over and over and over. Hey, DJs! I have a secret to share! New music is released every Tuesday. And did you also know that each new album consists of more than one song? I know DJs gotta promote what they gotta promote, but those truncated playlists drive me to turn off the radio and put in a CD of my own choosing. That I will listen to over and over and over. So there.

Changes in website interface that interferes with functionality. WordPress, I’m looking at you, here. The old interface was easier for someone with my vision issues to read. The new stats page is an endless scroll in a predominately light-blue. I didn’t use my stats page a great deal before. I certainly use it less now. And let’s not even talk about the “new and improved” editor where some of the old options are either gone or so well-hidden I can’t find them. This peeve isn’t the least bit funny, actually. I spend many hours on WordPress. Functionality lost  = time wasted.

Labeling things as “artisanal.” Stop it right now! If you’ve carved a jewelry box out of a chunk of cherry wood, you’re an artisan. If you made a popsicle, you are not. Same goes for “handcrafted.”

Homophones. Why, Y, wye?!

What’s on your nerves today?


Recently I announced the winners of the Mixed Feelings giveaway. The grand prize winner never claimed her prize, so we went back to Rafflecopter to choose another e-book winner. Congrats to A. Burdick on winning the e-book. Of course, choosing a new grand prize winner meant turning once again to Pixel, who has the work ethic of, well, a cat. 2 bows, and a pound of catnip later, let’s see how she did.

It’s Debatable

Here’s my weekly confession. I didn’t watch the debate. Clearly because I am typing as the two candidates duke it out on the international stage. I know what you’re thinking. “Don’t you want to know where the parties stand on the issues?” I know where they stand. On opposite sides of a strip of duct tape that goes smack down the middle of the living room.

Democrats? Republicans? They’re just two parents in the middle of a nasty divorce, and you have to decide who you’re going to live with for the next four years. They’re so busy hating each other and trying to take the biggest piece of pie that they have forgotten that they love you at all. And you’re not sure you like them, either.

They scream at each other at the dinner table every night for spending too much money and hide their own receipts under the bed. Each blames the other for the drop in their property value, missing the truth, that the entire neighborhood hates them both because they scream at each other in the middle of the street and embarrass everyone. They play nice when it’s time for vacation then forget they ever agreed on anything the moment the minivan pulls back in the driveway. And they never take you anywhere fun.

And you secretly wish upon every star, wishbone, and eyelash that you don’t actually have to live with either of them. That maybe there’s an auntie you never heard of who will swoop in and offer you sanctuary. Or a fun uncle that will set firm but loving limits because they really do have your best interests at heart. Someone who will tuck you in at night and wish you sweet dreams. And you do dream, and sometimes those dreams even come true.

And all the while, your parents are calling you every night and begging you to please, please do the reasonable and grown up thing and choose them. That your life won’t be worth living if you don’t pick them. And you know then there’s no cool relative to save you, so you pick the one that seems least likely to drop their pants at the grocery store at the moment and hope they don’t quit taking their meds.

Nah. There’s no need to watch the debate. You’ll see them around the table at Thanksgiving. I’ll bring the mashed potatoes. You bring a new roll of duct tape. This mess is going to go on awhile.

Yeah, your pet eagle may have pooped on the living room drapes. And those were new, too.