December 22nd, 2003

flaming, angry

GIP: Personality Warning Labels

I've mentioned my father often enough. I get much of my sense of humor from him. I owe this icon to a prank he pulled back perhaps two decades ago.

In elder days, FatherSir was a master of bogus memos and other forms of office paperwork/humor miscegenation. He kept the best ones on file, and one day, he pulled out a few labels for me to examine.

At first glance, they looked like the labels that one finds on hazardous chemicals -- oxidizer, corrosive. FatherSir had made up a bogus memo detailing how certain hazardous personalities, as well as the hazardous chemicals, would now have to be properly labeled for workplace safety. This was a legacy bogus memo, so it had been very current and hilarious at the time.

I looked closer at the stickers. Corrosive Personality. Flaming Asshole.

I thought it was hilarious. Mama and swallowtayle thought it was scandalous. I reproduced the Flaming Asshole warning sticker here, close enough.
Little Fayoumis, Nephew

Cinnamon

Little Fayoumis got a bag of candy from the pinata at his class's holiday party.

Why do people put cinnamon candy in stuff that kids get? Oh, I suppose some kids do like it.

Poor Little Fayoumis made The Face. I attempted to instruct him on sniffing the candy to see if it was going to be cinnamon beforehand. Maybe he'll remember next time. He got two cinnamon candies in a row, and made this horrible face and threw them both out.
trust, best friends forever, snot-nosed brats

Vorkosigan-inspired giftwrap

A Valentine's day or two ago, I had something to give to my beloved. (Hair elastics. His hair was growing back out after a dreadful haircut, and I wished to encourage this trend.)

Most Valentine's Day wrapping papers are unsuitably mushy for the unique friendship we have. Roses, hearts, and cupids are all out. So, I made my own.

I really do like making wrapping paper for small gifts. I take a sheet of blank paper, and draw a repeating pattern on it.

For Darkside's gift, I chose a few appropriate objects, based on the romance I'd been reading. As I'd been reading Lois McMaster Bujold's A Civil Campaign, I based my wrapping paper on what the main romantic hero, Miles, had been doodling during a meeting of the Council of Counts. I drew hand grenades, round black bombs, sticks of dynamite, explosions, and small hearts, in a regular pattern. It was quite lovely. I inked it with a black Pilot V-Ball Extra-Fine liquid ink pen, and then colored it in.

Sadly, the true genius of my work went underappreciated. The recipient of the gift pointed out that hearts would be more seasonable than explosions. I pointed out the hearts.
Santa Lucia, Ritual, _schools16931

Funny Pagan Moments

Grandma calls to pick up the LF to take him Christmas shopping with the cousins.
*boggle* But, she should know better than to interrupt $WINTERHOLIDAY!
Me: "Oh, right, your holiday is the 25th, isn't it."
Grandma: "...?"
running, bomb tech

Hibernation

Decided that today was as good a day as any to just hibernate. I curled up with The Two Towers after opening presents, and spent most of the afternoon reading or sleeping.
running, bomb tech

Things that Get Me In That Holiday Spirit

I'm setting up votania's quasi-new computer.

Sadly, as the version of W2K provided me by the school is a fdiscking upgrade, I'm going to have to use Red Hat.

She's not going to be exceptionally happy.

Monitor works, though, even after being slightly dropped, and sat upon by Little Fayoumis (who stood a tour in the corner for it).
Little Fayoumis, Nephew

Kid/Cat Interface

Little Fayoumis got a remote-control tank from Grandma. It's most definitely a Noisy Toy, as it makes shooting noises and so forth as well as zooming all over.

He had the tank put away this evening when I brought shammash out of my room. He gleefully aimed the remote at the cat and pressed buttons, to make the cat jump and go places.

Such an imagination. It's delightful.
  • Current Mood
    amused amused
running, bomb tech

Household Chores

Had Little Fayoumis help me unload dishes. Then had him help me wash dishes.

We are really into micropayments around here -- he gets a penny for every chore. At some point we may upgrade this into a more economically feasable for him nickel or dime per chore, so if he does ten or twenty chores per week, he'll be pulling in a decent allowance.

He wanted to vacuum, but the hour is prohibitive. Damn apartment complex and people needing to sleep.

Will shortly be making weird attempts at brining the turkey. If I don't return, inform my next of kin.