Thank God. I was just about to call my six sisters and tell them that they can quit wondering if we’ll all develop the Alzheimers that runs on my mother’s side of the family.
I was trying to figure out the deeper meaning in your diary. 🙂
I guess I`m not that far off trying to set up a FF diary & the nice thing about it is I saved you from calling your sisters. BTW :How old are they & If I may, just give me the #s & I`ll call them. Haha
I just WON`T. Actually I`m going to use this as an example of how not to do it for the FF. That`s what I was working on. Besides, no one has ever commented on a diary before. Hah… singing “I`m in the money”.
I think this diary is an intruging example of the neo-absurdist school of blogging, where the traditions of Ionesco and Magritte meet the bold breakthroughs of Pollock and Albee, though it appears to incorporate more of Kirkegjaard in it than Camus and shows just a saucy little hint of Brecht as well. Notice the complete disassociation of the content from its context, the subtle interplay of the light of fantasy with the shadow of reality, the fractal imagery inherent in the underlying world-view.
I’m still trying to figure out what Olive Oyl is doing in there, though.
The facts pertaining to the neo-absurdist school of blogging are not such as you may extrapolate them to be, ie: “using traditions of Ionesco and Magrite…”.although a little hint of Brecht does apply. To extend the
disassociation a little farther, albeit, not with original intent, the twist of fate assumed to have befallen the feline, did not occur. “We thought he was a goner … But the cat came back.” Only slightly worse for wear, although with a perceptable different perspective on things, he`s now on number 9..9,9,9,9
Having posted a reply to you a min. ago I also decided to let you in on the connection with the aforementioned petroleum product.
Olive Oyl & Olivia, who`s instructions I so ineptly followed trying a FF diary test.
That`s the one I use to placate the inquisitive ones. The reason Olive is included will be known to those who view the galleries in FF. A series of clues will be inserted & even noted “as clues”. Then & only then will one know the futility of trying to guess the reason for “Olive”`s inclusion.
Anyone who divulges the true reason before then, should be shot & included in the FF, preferably at F8.6 x500 ASA 400.
“Olive Oyl” is one of many aliases of Atalissa, Iowa’s most notorious native daughter. Born on a small family farm in 1918, Anna Gershwinder’s childhood ended abruptly in 1931 when a devastating drought destroyed the families so carefully planted in the spring. All that could be harvested was one waek, sickly son, and he was sold to provide food. With no seed family saved, there would be no crop in 1932. Anna’s farm days were over forever.
Her father was crushed by his failure to provide for his family. He took to drink and gambling, eventually losing the tiny farm. He fled in disgrace, leaving Anna and her mother, Sophie Randall Gershwinder, homeless and penniless. They found shelter in a boarding house of dubious reputation in the Mississippi River town of Muscatine. Sophie took in sewing and cleaned houses, but times were tough. She kept Anna out of school to help with the work so they could scratch out the few pennies that allowed them to clutch tenuously to their harrowing existence.
At night, Sophie would tuck Anna into the rickety day-bed and kiss her good night. “Be a good girl and keep the door locked,” she’d whisper and Sophie would slip out of the boarding house to head down to the shady dives that offered hard drinks and cheap sex to the rough and vulgar bargemen and hard cases that passed through the river town. Anna would pretend to be asleep when her mother would return, stinking of dirty men, cigar smoke, cheap liquor, and spinach.
After a few months, Anna’s mother succumbed to corn lung and hopelessness. On her death bed she called Anna to her. “Never, never trust a sailor,” she softly wheezed, her lungs choked with years of inhaled corn pollen. She gasped, struggling for just a little more time. “Anna, my dear, sweet Anna,” she spoke with tears running down her cold, white cheeks, “If any sailor ever asks for a spinach job, kill the bastard, and don’t look back.”
She watched her mother slip away. She had no money to bury her, no one to turn to for help. Anna found a stub of a pencil and a spinach label in her mother’s soiled apron. After kissing her mother on the cheek, Anna wrote a note to the landlady, begging her to bury Sophie. She walked silently out the back door, her meager belongings, two pairs of her father white socks and his work boots, wrapped in her mother’s apron. Before long, her battered shoes would give out and she have to wear his socks rolled down to the tops of his heavy farming boots. She wore her mother’s apron from that day on.
Anna had just turned 15 and was all alone. Her early years on the farm, when the crops were good, and they had many families to sell every fall, had made her tall and strong, but the recent tragedies had broken her spirit. The poverty and malnutrition that would mark the next phase of her life left her painfully thin and warped her vocal cords. As she teettered on the brink of womanhood, dark, desperate, dangerous times awaited Anna Gershwinder.
Next time on “The Dark Secrets of the Popeye Stars:
Anna meets Popeye; A spinach job;
Sweet young Anna dies, and “Olive Oyl” is born.
That made me cry { a la orange tear shedders].
That`s all good but like I said upthread, you should be shot [preferably by a friend, with an eye for composition & with more than a point & shoot] & displayed in the FF, for bringing up such a sad but true tale of the “Dust Bowel” years.
You might want to give us a little history on her reprobate father & her
emotional conflict involving relationships.
It seems that she always falls for someone who she seems to love, but because of her mother`s addiction to spinach & other legumes, & the horrible tales she was told she can`t seem to commit. She has her undecided heart lurking for the real man hopefully hidden inside this sailor`s heart.
Everyone has a crutch of some sort or another. Maybe your`s is your vivid imagination & the ability to share it with others so well. Good history lesson. I always wondered about Olive`s childhood.
I have located more material about the lost years of Anna. It is shocking, shocking I say. I am loath to share the burden of this terrible knowledge unless their are others willing to help me shoulder the sordid load.
If there is sufficient interest, I will relate:
Anna’s dark journey into the seamy underside of the rivertowns of the mighty Mississippi.
Anna’s death and rebirth as “Olive Oyl.”
Popeye’s early years trafficking in spinach before his discovery by Hollywood.
Bluto’s ambiguous relationship with Popeye.
Bluto’s later political as US Senator from Wisconsin.
Anna’s soul crushing experience with Popeye, Bluto and her first Spinach Job.
Please indicate the research topic that you are interested in. I will tabulate the results and take further action on the basis of public interest. I welcome anyone with any other information about our spunky heroine to share that information with us.
Anything “spinach” & “Olive” is of special interest to me especially where it may concern “Popeye”. If it includes “spinach job” , well, it`s part of history & I`ve been around, so if you must, I`ll definitly peruse it at the very least. Hopefully there are more interested parties than you or myself, who wish to know more. Any anecdotes or factual occurances involving Olive & her interaction with other people is of great interest to me & it is quite obvious that you have much to share.
It is important, especially in this day & age to study “Popeye” as the embodyment of the American “can do” spirit, & how his relationship with Olive can be applied to problems our young people face today. I am looking forward to reading of the political leanings of all the historical charactors in your ,hopefully, upcoming installment.
Am I messing up your FF plans? I’m having fun riffing on silliness. If I’m messing up your FF plans, tell me and I’ll quit. If not, on with the silliness!
You are all wrong. As Omir so rightly divined. Kierkegaard is hovering in the background, stalking poor Olive. She is about to take a leap of faith and try to find nourishment in soybeans, the only foodstuffs available to her other than spinach. She knows that performing the spinach act will lead to. . . let’s see, is it still the family hour on the west coast? Yes. Better not say.
Ok. Unfortunately, poor Olive, like her mother, has Legume Anorexia, that did not disappear as it typically does in adulthood. Her poor nourishment, like that of Sophie, her mother, has left her permanently in a state of childlike bodily form. Lumpy, mishappen clothing hides her emaciated physical condition.
I think you`re absolutely right. The study on “Those noisy creatures”, an
indepth one, I must add, is a compilation of problems that must have severly impacted Olive`s formative years. It`s funny that you linked to the “legume Anorexia” paper, as I ran across it a few years ago doing a study
about boils on dogs.
I better understand the hell she has been through & am painfully aware
that she`s in for much much more. Poor girl.
I have it on good authority that andiF frequents a Chicago speakeasy where she indulges in the evil vice of creamed spinach. Her participation in the notorious Group Spinach Job at these dens of iniquity is rumored, but, as of this date, no definite evidence exists.
You want evidence?… You want evidence?
You can`t handle the evidence.
Hey Teach313, do you perchance know the address of one of those “blind pig”s?
Here`s some of the stuff I`m working on for the FF. Just so you know there`s a not so serious side to me also.
Crap, now you tell me. Actually I should have checked the password.
I just bailed out. I was busted by the FDA who were in the area due to an E Coli scare. I told them what I had was hybrid sage, but they didn`t buy it. I told them it wasn`t for sale, but for purification ceremonies. I should have shut up a long time before they slapped the cuf.. hell out of me.
I`d be in deep coca ..oopps, caca, if it was all rolled up & the FDA “rolled” up on me, no?
I`m trying another test right now & it`s not looking good.
When I hit preview, I get errors like tag “A” not allowed table >t for opening tag r not allowed. I`m not that up on cryptography.
Check out my new cabin cruiser though.
I haven`t cancelled the night drops over the Mojave. This is more of a decoy on those nights of low flights. There`s a great party salon below deck with a large aquarium built in the forward bulkhead above the bar.
Ya, I think I`ll have to get Olivia to clarify {for me} a few points in the example of the mail-in ballots.
keep trying Head…it’s really confusing to me too, but I think I’m about there. The goal is to get everyone comfortable enough w/ the diary and comment templates between now and the ff, to post their own diaries, so we don’t get inundated w/ “mail ins”…what we’d really like is just the link to your diary(s) for inclusion in the master D…:{)
Well, thank god the FF is 6 weeks away. That should get me about
enough time to have the instructions wired. Geez , here I thought it was in two weeks.
BTW What do you think I`ve been doing for hours. I keep getting errors, that`s what!!
I`ll get it eventually, & thanks for the encouragement. WAAAHHHH
Jeez, you`re right, but I just had some spinach & my eyes are already angry, I mean cross.
How are you.NDD?
Is this a nutzoid diary. It started with a mistake [like some births ; bush comes to mind] & now I think I know how to get the FF diary ready beforehand.
And you are the ??? If one is a cartoon character, does one know it? Does your cartoon consciousness limit and shape the “reality” you experience? If you have always lived in two-dimensional space, is that your norm, your reality, and would three-dimensional space only be accessible through mind alterering drugs, like say, creamed spinach? Something to think about, hm?
I think I must feel like what my pensive bird seems to be contemplating.
Why me.
I`ll make tomorrow my final test day & swear I won`t give up on it.
Thanks to all who`ve made this test run so much fun.
Omir,Teach33, kidsspeak, Blue, Andif, dada, Olivia, NDD & those I inadvertently omit, thanks
This diary is an embarassing mistake.
If you are reading this, “do not repeat it”.
Thank God. I was just about to call my six sisters and tell them that they can quit wondering if we’ll all develop the Alzheimers that runs on my mother’s side of the family.
I was trying to figure out the deeper meaning in your diary. 🙂
I guess I`m not that far off trying to set up a FF diary & the nice thing about it is I saved you from calling your sisters. BTW :How old are they & If I may, just give me the #s & I`ll call them. Haha
You can delete the diary if you want. Just select ‘edit’ and then select ‘Delete’.
I just WON`T. Actually I`m going to use this as an example of how not to do it for the FF. That`s what I was working on. Besides, no one has ever commented on a diary before. Hah… singing “I`m in the money”.
In that case, I think I think we should get it on the rec list. Come on everybody, recommend this diary!
I think this diary is an intruging example of the neo-absurdist school of blogging, where the traditions of Ionesco and Magritte meet the bold breakthroughs of Pollock and Albee, though it appears to incorporate more of Kirkegjaard in it than Camus and shows just a saucy little hint of Brecht as well. Notice the complete disassociation of the content from its context, the subtle interplay of the light of fantasy with the shadow of reality, the fractal imagery inherent in the underlying world-view.
I’m still trying to figure out what Olive Oyl is doing in there, though.
This is one of those moments when a “4” seems so inadequate. Brilliantly hilarious Omir.
The facts pertaining to the neo-absurdist school of blogging are not such as you may extrapolate them to be, ie: “using traditions of Ionesco and Magrite…”.although a little hint of Brecht does apply. To extend the
disassociation a little farther, albeit, not with original intent, the twist of fate assumed to have befallen the feline, did not occur. “We thought he was a goner … But the cat came back.” Only slightly worse for wear, although with a perceptable different perspective on things, he`s now on number 9..9,9,9,9
Looks a lot like Schrodinger’s cat to me, and that leads to the question, of course…. I’m afraid to look again.
You think you’re scared? Think of the poor cat, huddled in a corner, terrified that you will look again.
Or, maybe the cat will look and it is you who will. . .
arrrgh! please don’t….. p p p please don’t look!
Having posted a reply to you a min. ago I also decided to let you in on the connection with the aforementioned petroleum product.
Olive Oyl & Olivia, who`s instructions I so ineptly followed trying a FF diary test.
Now that I know, the explanation just seems so . . . so . . . so mundane.
That`s the one I use to placate the inquisitive ones. The reason Olive is included will be known to those who view the galleries in FF. A series of clues will be inserted & even noted “as clues”. Then & only then will one know the futility of trying to guess the reason for “Olive”`s inclusion.
Anyone who divulges the true reason before then, should be shot & included in the FF, preferably at F8.6 x500 ASA 400.
what Olive Oyl is doing there.
“Olive Oyl” is one of many aliases of Atalissa, Iowa’s most notorious native daughter. Born on a small family farm in 1918, Anna Gershwinder’s childhood ended abruptly in 1931 when a devastating drought destroyed the families so carefully planted in the spring. All that could be harvested was one waek, sickly son, and he was sold to provide food. With no seed family saved, there would be no crop in 1932. Anna’s farm days were over forever.
Her father was crushed by his failure to provide for his family. He took to drink and gambling, eventually losing the tiny farm. He fled in disgrace, leaving Anna and her mother, Sophie Randall Gershwinder, homeless and penniless. They found shelter in a boarding house of dubious reputation in the Mississippi River town of Muscatine. Sophie took in sewing and cleaned houses, but times were tough. She kept Anna out of school to help with the work so they could scratch out the few pennies that allowed them to clutch tenuously to their harrowing existence.
At night, Sophie would tuck Anna into the rickety day-bed and kiss her good night. “Be a good girl and keep the door locked,” she’d whisper and Sophie would slip out of the boarding house to head down to the shady dives that offered hard drinks and cheap sex to the rough and vulgar bargemen and hard cases that passed through the river town. Anna would pretend to be asleep when her mother would return, stinking of dirty men, cigar smoke, cheap liquor, and spinach.
After a few months, Anna’s mother succumbed to corn lung and hopelessness. On her death bed she called Anna to her. “Never, never trust a sailor,” she softly wheezed, her lungs choked with years of inhaled corn pollen. She gasped, struggling for just a little more time. “Anna, my dear, sweet Anna,” she spoke with tears running down her cold, white cheeks, “If any sailor ever asks for a spinach job, kill the bastard, and don’t look back.”
She watched her mother slip away. She had no money to bury her, no one to turn to for help. Anna found a stub of a pencil and a spinach label in her mother’s soiled apron. After kissing her mother on the cheek, Anna wrote a note to the landlady, begging her to bury Sophie. She walked silently out the back door, her meager belongings, two pairs of her father white socks and his work boots, wrapped in her mother’s apron. Before long, her battered shoes would give out and she have to wear his socks rolled down to the tops of his heavy farming boots. She wore her mother’s apron from that day on.
Anna had just turned 15 and was all alone. Her early years on the farm, when the crops were good, and they had many families to sell every fall, had made her tall and strong, but the recent tragedies had broken her spirit. The poverty and malnutrition that would mark the next phase of her life left her painfully thin and warped her vocal cords. As she teettered on the brink of womanhood, dark, desperate, dangerous times awaited Anna Gershwinder.
Next time on “The Dark Secrets of the Popeye Stars:
Anna meets Popeye; A spinach job;
Sweet young Anna dies, and “Olive Oyl” is born.
That made me cry { a la orange tear shedders].
That`s all good but like I said upthread, you should be shot [preferably by a friend, with an eye for composition & with more than a point & shoot] & displayed in the FF, for bringing up such a sad but true tale of the “Dust Bowel” years.
You might want to give us a little history on her reprobate father & her
emotional conflict involving relationships.
It seems that she always falls for someone who she seems to love, but because of her mother`s addiction to spinach & other legumes, & the horrible tales she was told she can`t seem to commit. She has her undecided heart lurking for the real man hopefully hidden inside this sailor`s heart.
that can not be a “real man” without the kick from green, leafy monkey on his back.
Everyone has a crutch of some sort or another. Maybe your`s is your vivid imagination & the ability to share it with others so well. Good history lesson. I always wondered about Olive`s childhood.
I have located more material about the lost years of Anna. It is shocking, shocking I say. I am loath to share the burden of this terrible knowledge unless their are others willing to help me shoulder the sordid load.
If there is sufficient interest, I will relate:
Anna’s dark journey into the seamy underside of the rivertowns of the mighty Mississippi.
Anna’s death and rebirth as “Olive Oyl.”
Popeye’s early years trafficking in spinach before his discovery by Hollywood.
Bluto’s ambiguous relationship with Popeye.
Bluto’s later political as US Senator from Wisconsin.
Anna’s soul crushing experience with Popeye, Bluto and her first Spinach Job.
Please indicate the research topic that you are interested in. I will tabulate the results and take further action on the basis of public interest. I welcome anyone with any other information about our spunky heroine to share that information with us.
Anything “spinach” & “Olive” is of special interest to me especially where it may concern “Popeye”. If it includes “spinach job” , well, it`s part of history & I`ve been around, so if you must, I`ll definitly peruse it at the very least. Hopefully there are more interested parties than you or myself, who wish to know more. Any anecdotes or factual occurances involving Olive & her interaction with other people is of great interest to me & it is quite obvious that you have much to share.
It is important, especially in this day & age to study “Popeye” as the embodyment of the American “can do” spirit, & how his relationship with Olive can be applied to problems our young people face today. I am looking forward to reading of the political leanings of all the historical charactors in your ,hopefully, upcoming installment.
Am I messing up your FF plans? I’m having fun riffing on silliness. If I’m messing up your FF plans, tell me and I’ll quit. If not, on with the silliness!
I yam what I yam & that`s what I sez I am.
No, seriously HAHAHAAAHHHAHAHA
What fotofair?
Plans?
Plans are made for people who stick to them.
Nice diary … 🙂
Where have you been, young lady?
Look at this lovely mess you`ve got me into.
Hi Olivia.
Looks like it was a success! And fun to boot … 🙂
You are all wrong. As Omir so rightly divined. Kierkegaard is hovering in the background, stalking poor Olive. She is about to take a leap of faith and try to find nourishment in soybeans, the only foodstuffs available to her other than spinach. She knows that performing the spinach act will lead to. . . let’s see, is it still the family hour on the west coast? Yes. Better not say.
Ok. Unfortunately, poor Olive, like her mother, has Legume Anorexia, that did not disappear as it typically does in adulthood. Her poor nourishment, like that of Sophie, her mother, has left her permanently in a state of childlike bodily form. Lumpy, mishappen clothing hides her emaciated physical condition.
I think you`re absolutely right. The study on “Those noisy creatures”, an
indepth one, I must add, is a compilation of problems that must have severly impacted Olive`s formative years. It`s funny that you linked to the “legume Anorexia” paper, as I ran across it a few years ago doing a study
about boils on dogs.
I better understand the hell she has been through & am painfully aware
that she`s in for much much more. Poor girl.
?????
Hey, don`t look at me. It started out as a test.
I just check in now & then while I`m doing serious work.
Now I`m hooked, pass the spinach please.
I have it on good authority that andiF frequents a Chicago speakeasy where she indulges in the evil vice of creamed spinach. Her participation in the notorious Group Spinach Job at these dens of iniquity is rumored, but, as of this date, no definite evidence exists.
You want evidence?… You want evidence?
You can`t handle the evidence.
Hey Teach313, do you perchance know the address of one of those “blind pig”s?
Here`s some of the stuff I`m working on for the FF. Just so you know there`s a not so serious side to me also.
17 West Adams. Knock three times. Password is “Swordfish.” You didn’t hear this from me.
How much should I bring over. And is it knock twice & cough “swishford”
Swordfish! Swordfish!
Swordfish !
Crap, now you tell me. Actually I should have checked the password.
I just bailed out. I was busted by the FDA who were in the area due to an E Coli scare. I told them what I had was hybrid sage, but they didn`t buy it. I told them it wasn`t for sale, but for purification ceremonies. I should have shut up a long time before they slapped the cuf.. hell out of me.
ya gotta pre-roll and dry that “hybrid sage”….
not to scale
I`d be in deep coca ..oopps, caca, if it was all rolled up & the FDA “rolled” up on me, no?
I`m trying another test right now & it`s not looking good.
When I hit preview, I get errors like tag “A” not allowed table >t for opening tag r not allowed. I`m not that up on cryptography.
Check out my new cabin cruiser though.
if you’re using that for night trips…best be painting the superstructue a darker colour…
I haven`t cancelled the night drops over the Mojave. This is more of a decoy on those nights of low flights. There`s a great party salon below deck with a large aquarium built in the forward bulkhead above the bar.
Ya, I think I`ll have to get Olivia to clarify {for me} a few points in the example of the mail-in ballots.
keep trying Head…it’s really confusing to me too, but I think I’m about there. The goal is to get everyone comfortable enough w/ the diary and comment templates between now and the ff, to post their own diaries, so we don’t get inundated w/ “mail ins”…what we’d really like is just the link to your diary(s) for inclusion in the master D…:{)
Well, thank god the FF is 6 weeks away. That should get me about
enough time to have the instructions wired. Geez , here I thought it was in two weeks.
BTW What do you think I`ve been doing for hours. I keep getting errors, that`s what!!
I`ll get it eventually, & thanks for the encouragement. WAAAHHHH
Head in 6 weeks I think you might be late for the FF. 🙂
If you can put your code into an email send it to me and I’ll look at it.
Which code?
The ones that show the errors or ??
Send me what you have. I’m not saying I can figure it out, but I’ve done a few practice with mine and they’ve come out OK.
I meant to shrink that picture.
the two fish in the middle are kissing over a heart
Jeez, you`re right, but I just had some spinach & my eyes are already angry, I mean cross.
How are you.NDD?
Is this a nutzoid diary. It started with a mistake [like some births ; bush comes to mind] & now I think I know how to get the FF diary ready beforehand.
yeah, this “nutzoid” diary is quite hilarious actually.
Mistakes are the best teachers, right?
I’m looking forward to seeing your FF diary!!!
which only goes to show that one cannot use food lusts to make a connection between real people and cartoon characters — or something.
And you are the ??? If one is a cartoon character, does one know it? Does your cartoon consciousness limit and shape the “reality” you experience? If you have always lived in two-dimensional space, is that your norm, your reality, and would three-dimensional space only be accessible through mind alterering drugs, like say, creamed spinach? Something to think about, hm?
Add a description of your photo here.
Click image for larger version.
Said to taste like smelly eegnog when fried over a few bics
Click image for larger version.
By George, I think he’s got it. 🙂
If the rat is supposed to get bigger, it didn’t. When I clicked on the boat, it worked, but not the rat.
By George, I think you’re right!
That`s because the rat deserted the ship before you clicked on it.
GOD, I might as well go back to drawing “Ligers”.
OK I’m too lazy to look, “Ligers”?
Napoleon Dynamite
Gaaawwd!!!
Geeze you have me googling on everything!
Napoleon Dynamite Gaaawwd!!! Never heard of it.
I’ll google the rest tomorrow. Have a good night.
GAAWWD,
It`s from Napoleon Dynamite.
A goofy independent film.
A penitent fowl who thinks unfavorably of rebirth has never heard of the messiah
Click image for larger version.
did that e/m make sense?
I think I must feel like what my pensive bird seems to be contemplating.
Why me.
I`ll make tomorrow my final test day & swear I won`t give up on it.
Thanks to all who`ve made this test run so much fun.
Omir,Teach33, kidsspeak, Blue, Andif, dada, Olivia, NDD & those I inadvertently omit, thanks
Last, but certainly not least, FamilyMan.
It was nice.
A CLOSE SHOT OF A FLOWERS BRIGHTNESS
Click image for larger version.
You did it! 😀
A firetruck dog on a gardening blog
Click image for larger version.
Hi Head. Me thinks you’ve got it. 🙂