Michael Turner

Passed away last night. Fuck.

Yelp! reviewers.

Sign up at Boorah instead. I read a comment somewhere that Yelp's user networking is more like MySpace than anything else, & the level of membership is about as mature. I'd have to agree based on my experience so far. It's a website where anyone with an asshole (or an opinion) can take a cheap shot & not be held accountable for it. It might be a statement about the quality of people nowadays, or maybe it's just a case of a pile of shit attracting flies.

Oh, Mary M.

It would appear I've got a fan. Today I heard that at a website called Yelp ("Real people. Real reviews.") someone named Mary M. was bashing my stellar bartending service.

I took a look:

This is a fun little hole-in-the wall kind of neighborhood bar that is nothing like Cheers or Murphy's or O'Tooles. It is very low-key, very small and the bar has a nice collection of rock karaoke songs.

If you live in Kaimuki, this is a fun place for you to experience. I wish I could own a little neighborhood bar like this! Seems like everyone pretty much knows each other and when you step into the bar it feels like you've walked into a private party - but they don't mind you hanging with them.
Have fun - and sing a little Slayer for me, would ya?

*added June 1*
Maybe I spoke too soon about how cool this place was? LOL
Actually, it still is a cool place, and the people are friendly - there's just one little thing that bugged me about the bar.....and that is a bartender there named Lauren.

Now, I'm going to try to be fair, and not too mean, but I'll just tell y'all what happened one night when I was sitting at the bar and our fair bartender Lauren walked in to start her shift.

She was sulky, and rude, and didn't seem to care if we wanted to order drinks. She was more interested in singing karaoke songs and perfecting her dour look. Any time we ordered a drink, she looked like we were putting her out. Then, to top it off, when my friend asked if they had a particular song she said "no, we don't have that song here. We don't have those kinds of songs. You can go to the bar around the back - they have songs like that."
Now, let me just say, we know they have that song there, because my friend had sung it there before. So...

WTF?

And, she basically told us to go next door because the song we wanted didn't measure up to her lame "cool" standards.

Here's the deal, people go to a bar to have a few drinks, unwind, have a good time. Do they really need to deal with such a bad attitude? Lauren, lighten up. Have fun, smile a little and don't give people a hard time when they just want to unwind and have some fun.

Yeah, I responded.

Hey Mary M - I know exactly who you are. You guys were special.

I'm so sorry we didn't have "Mack The Knife" in our book. We've added around 900 songs, old & new to the new computer system over the last few months & the book doesn't get updated immediately. But that's where my apologies end. I had asked you & your friend if you were ok several times & was denied to the point where I felt perhaps you only wanted to be served by Terrence, who had gotten your first round of drinks. I said nothing as you discussed me with eachother, never saying anything to me even though I was standing right in front of you. And when your friend was unable to find his "Mack The Knife" in our book, I explained that although we might not have it, any other bar --- including Aloha Lounge immediately behind us --- would have that song. Quite different from telling you to leave. If I wanted you to leave, trust me: I would have told you to.

Our karaoke list has been painstakingly & intensely compiled over a period of 10 years. When we first opened Pub Kagami, my ex-husband & I passionately wanted to host a bar with hard-to-find rock songs like Sabbath's "Heaven & Hell" or Benatar's "Promises In The Dark." As your friend raised his voice insisting that he had sung it before, I found myself puzzled about the upset. Is it the only song he knows?

Then you 2 were openly upset that your song cost you $1. When you stiffed me I wasn't surprised. Not because I felt I deserved to get stiffed, but because it was obvious what kind of people you were.

When you came in a couple of weeks ago with your friends you never said a word to me; I waited on your group & everything seemed fine, & I certainly didn't hold a grudge but obviously you did. I'm glad you found a public channel to vent, but frankly honey, feel free to come back in & say it to my face. And you don't have to "try to be fair." lol

A word about my service. I'm your bartender. I get your drinks. It's not my job to like you. It's not my job to PRETEND I like you. We're a small bar & we've got 5 tables --- that means no room for jerks. And frankly there are PLENTY of people who are quite pleasant.

I don't need you, Mary.

As I said, I know exactly who this woman is. I remember her quite clearly, because she & her companion were total pieces of shit. Maybe they were expecting to sit on a bar where the bartender will lick your toes if you treat her like a peon. Or maybe they didn't like the way I looked. I did hear the sarcastic comment about my being "sexy." They said it like it was an offense. But realistically, every once in awhile people just don't like eachother, & the reason is not always obvious.

Anyone in the service industry knows what I'm talking about. Sometimes people just hate you as soon as they see you. Sometimes you hate them as soon as you see them. At my job, it's a rarity, but hey --- it does happen. It's fine by me.

As for me being a dick, I'll say it: I'M GUILTY. Oh yes, I can be a dick. An unapologetic dick. Do I have a bad attitude? Hell yes. Do people still have a great time when I'm working? Absolutely. It's because I'm not a dick to them. And why am I not a dick to them? Because they weren't dicks to me.

This is the 2nd Bar Stories post I've made, & so far 2 out of 2 are about repulsive customers. I don't want to mislead you; 9 days out of 10 all I ever deal with are great customers. I remember Mary M quite clearly --- & so does Terrence --- because she was atypical. We're really blessed at our bar to have the kind of clientele that we do. Cool people. Nice people. Down-to-earth, mature people. Events like this one are anomalies.

Based on her review of Side Street Inn I'd guess that the servers there didn't like her either.

When I don't like someone, I don't try to pretend otherwise. It's not my job to like everyone, although I'll still get them a drink if they order one. The ironic thing about people like Mary M, who can't be pleased, is that they really have a hand in their own experience by pissing me off. Be a dick to me, & I can tell you exactly how I'll respond. Decide that I'm a piece of shit, & I'll be happy to validate your experience for you.

Later, Mary M actually messaged me on Yelp. I guess when the safety of internet anonymity isn't working, there's a sudden urge to be nice. I hate when this happens.

Lauren,
Several people here on Yelp! emailed me regarding your review. Looks like I obviously upset you a great deal. I'm sorry for the bad review that I wrote, but I was so angry the night I left 9th Avenue. I had been there so many times before and never had a bad experience there until that night with you.

We ALWAYS leave more than 20% when we tip, and have always enjoyed 9th Avenue in the past. I don't know why you didn't like us, but it was obviously from the get-go that you didn't want us there. And honestly, as a bartender/hostess it is a big responsibility of yours to make your guests feel welcome and appreciated. I think you don't quite understand what an important role your job is.

I feel that my review was honest and concise, but if it will make you feel better I will edit my comments. It's been a long time since the incident and I'm willing to move on.

Don't worry, I know this is bullshit. "It's been a long time since the incident" but her flamer edit was June 1st, probably right after the last time she & her friends came in --- it was probably then that she did her detective work so that she could write about me. The ironic thing is that it was a fun night. But naturally events like that aren't valid when someone's got an axe to grind.

And of course I wrote back to her. Sorry, it's a long one.

Hi Mary - I'd appreciate if you left your review as is, especially if you feel it was honest. My response was honest also. Our discussion actually brings up what I feel are pertinent issues. I'd like to think that people will read it & decide they hate me, & try to avoid coming in on Sunday nights when I work. Please feel free to spread the word that the bitch bartender with "lame" standards works on Sunday nights.

We've asked the Honolulu Weekly & other papers to NOT review us. We DON'T want publicity. We're TOO SMALL for publicity. We're a bar that was opened with a very specific crowd in mind --- the musically gifted ones. Well, & the fishermen. Because we're into fishing too.

We never wanted to have these hordes of idiots who want to yell (not sing) "La Isla Bonita" or "Sailing" 5 times a night while dancing on a chair. On bad nights Terrence literally hides in the kitchen all night because he can't take it. I, unfortunately, have to stand out there & listen to the noise pollution. Why do we have Shure 58 mics, which cost us $600 a pop (for the wireless ones, hell yeah they cost that much)? So that 10 people can yell at the top of their lungs into them? Fuck no!

Regarding my responsibilities as a bartender/hostess. Mary, if you ask any of my regulars they will tell you that I am an excellent pour, that 9 times out of 10 I have their drink ready even before they sit down, I keep an eye on them & they get their orders right away if not before they even make the order. While I can't claim such efficiency with non-regulars, I do try very hard, & even on insanely busy nights I see a lot of happy faces & receive many compliments.

Since 2002 almost every damn song in our karaoke book was picked out & put in there by me. No, we don't serve mojitos. No, we don't have little umbrellas. YES we have a lot of hard-to-find karaoke. I put it there. You like Slayer, Mary? I bought that, & I put it in our karaoke book. I didn't create a bar meant for pina coladas or cheerleading. I created a bar meant for rock. And if I have attitude about it I am unapologetic.

Can I be a dick? Absolutely. Can I be a bartender & act like a dick? Absolutely. Will people get turned off? I hope so. Because if you want to get your dick sucked then you've got to go next door to Town or something. I won't do it. I WILL get your drink, & I WILL be nice to you if you're nice to me. And if you're a dick to me, then my response to that will be quite predictable.

And I won't hold it against you the next time you come in. Those that care to get to know me will. Those that don't are free to go somewhere else where they can get a foot massage or whatever it is they want.

Also, a 20% tip is great --- if you're in a restaurant. Maybe I'm spoilt because the majority of my regulars, for 10 years, have been long-time barflies or industry people: other bartenders, cocktail servers, fine dining servers. In a bar the tipping meter is a little different. In a restaurant there is a specific routine - drinks, apps, main course, dessert, coffee - & a generally consistent service time. It's perfectly fine to tip a percentage of the tab because the tab amount is a good gauge of how much service occurred. In a bar there is no such meter. It can be crazy or barely live.

What if you sat on the bar & were monitored by your server for 4 hours, but only spent $20? A $4 tip? Are you kidding? As someone in the industry, I think you don't quite understand what an important role your server has.

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. I'm off to a certain popular sports bar. Where, I'd like to add, the mics & speakers are SO SHITTY that the owner, who is a musician, sits on my bar every Sunday because he won't sing in his own bar. And he always tips $20-$30 regardless of what his tab looks like.

I'm not mad at you, Mary. In fact, I felt bad when I first heard about your review. But then I remembered how you had behaved & figured I'd better speak up for myself. Please leave your review up there. If I look like a total bitch, then it would be quite fulfillingly accurate as well as practical.

You might really like Rene, who works on Mondays & Tuesdays. She's very sweet & quiet as well as pretty. We still have karaoke on those nights but Rene is not a musician type so she doesn't have any of the snobberies that I do. However, since we have not yet updated our book, "Mack The Knife" STILL isn't in there. You'll have to ask Terrence to manually look it up on the computer.

Bye now.

I then made one more post on the 9th Avenue Rock House page for the general Yelp community, which was of course flagged & torn down within 24 hours:

It's me again. I only made a Yelp account so I could defend myself here, so I probably won't be checking back here unless I get another flurry of phone calls telling me my honor is being besmirched or whatever.

For the record, I'd like people to know that Mary is totally right about me being a dick, & if anyone else wants to come sit on my bar then they'll have to run the risk of my unapologetic DICKNESS. If you suck, I'll usually tell you. If I didn't like your friend, I'll ask you not to bring him next time. Seriously. I'm a total dick. With "lame" standards no less.

Lucky for you people I only work on Sunday nights now, so 6 nights a week you can be waited on by Rene or Shazia, who are completely adorable & will probably still be nice to you even if they don't like you.

We use a Mackie 808M PA, Mackie speakers, & very expensive Shure 58 mics. If you look like some of the morons we get on the weekends you won't get the 58; you'll get the crappy Vocopro mic but it's really only because you wouldn't know the difference anyway & you look like you might drop it on the floor. The Vocopros are way cheaper than the Shures; we're just trying to save you some money.

I once hurt Derek Paiva's feelings by calling his positive review of our bar a "promotional attack." Well, it kind of was. He told people that our bar is a place where you can suck at singing & everyone will still love you. So as a result all these people who couldn't sing AT ALL started flooding our place. Dancing on the chairs. Pushing our regulars out.

That's only on the weekends, folks. And the thing about having everyone in the bar sing along with you? I've actually had words with parties who were screaming so loud that the customers who PAID for the song couldn't hear themselves at all. It's great if you like this song that Steph ordered, but since she paid for it LET HER SING THE DAMN SONG.

We don't have unparalleled karaoke sound equipment so that 10 people can scream into a mic. We have this great set up so that 1 or 2 people --- the people who intend to sing the song --- can scream "Ramble On" or "Dirty Deeds." Like Karaoke Hut, we actually have karaoke enthusiasts that come in because of the selection & the equipment. Unlike Karaoke Hut, we don't have room for people who want to do a Girls Gone Wild theme night.

Terrence, the owner & my boss, is so sweet & gentle that he would never suggest to someone that their singing sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I, however, will. So just remember: Sunday nights. The nasty bartender works on Sunday nights.

I'd like to thank Mary for posting her bad review. The verbal support I've received from regulars has convinced me that I'm an even BETTER bartender than I thought. I want to buy Mary a Christmas present now. I won't though.

Goodbye Yelp community! Anyone who wishes to talk smack to me can email me at Tamastara@gmail.com. If you'd like an Excel file of Reid's karaoke list that's the email to request it from as well.

This morning I got a stern letter from Sydney at Yelp User Support informing me that my "personal attack" posts had been removed. Oh, the irony!

Out there are a bunch of Yelp! subscribers who hate me. As I contemplate that, I find myself trying to care. But it's futile. There, I tried again. Nope. No luck here.

Honestly, I'm not mad at her. We've actually had pretty civil correspondence since then & she seems like a nice person, sans the internet anonymity. And so ends the Yelp! Real People, Real Reviews chapter. As well as their credibility.

MORE LIKE SUCKQUIEM

HAHAHA

Mercury! Yummy!

Recently this video was recommended to me via email because it contained important revelations about CFLs. But I instead gained some important revelations about how ignorant our own politicians can be.



I wrote back:

This guy doesn't actually have a lot to stand on so he made his speech distractingly flamboyant. But it doesn't work very well.

CFLs are actually quite hardy & not that easy to break. The levels of mercury, furthermore, in a CFL bulb are not actually as high as this guy is ignorantly implying. Precautions are necessary in the unlikely event of breakage, but the broken glass of any kind of light bulb is probably more of a threat than the mercury.

What he's really protesting is the inconvenience of using CFLs. But even then he hasn't done his homework.

Americans are quite pretentious in thinking that we can abuse the environment & its resources as much as we do & not bother with recycling or conservation. Our nation really just produces a lot of garbage, because we can afford to. One day when our money runs out we'll find that we have been behind the times.

It should not be a huge problem to visit a recycling center. On top of that, CFLs last so long there would really not be many trips needed. They do not burn out like incandescent bulbs. They last for multiple years. The average life of a CFL is 10,000 hours whereas that of an incandescent is 750. How long would it take you to use up 10,000 hours?

As far as production in China, I would expect the US private sector will eventually take an interest in CFL production since it is obviously going to be a reliable market. And if it's not cost effective, then it is still in the US's best interests to acquire CFLs from another country. Perhaps when we run out of landfills we can rent land from China as well. I don't think that China has some secret plot to kill the US through commercial products. I think they are doing what they do best: mass produce things. They are a country of industry. On top of that, they have no reason to try to destroy us. If the US was gone, who would buy all their stuff?

While I don't support a full ban of incandescents, I do think that we need to start having more awareness of our resource usage, & I do think that widespread conversion to CFL would be a good thing. He's right that we should be searching for alternatives outside of CFL use. We should be switching to CFLs as well as seeking as many energy solutions as we can find. We should be doing all of that.

Sex & The City

So. I finally went to see this movie.

Sex & The City is one of the few tv shows that I actually sat down to watch tv for. When I say "few," I mean the only one, actually. The only other tv series I watched regularly was Ally McBeal, & I watched it standing up & walking around, because it was on the tvs at On The Rocks Cafe every Tuesday night & I was cocktailing at the time.

There are reviews of this show all over the web by now. I refuse to brave theaters during the 1st week of release so I see everything when it's already been chewed up & spit out. But here's my review.

Great movie. I don't usually go in for stuff like this, being partial to Scifi Adventure (Iron Man was The Shit.). I knew it was going to hurt at some places & I knew I was going to cry, which really didn't sit well with me, but thankfully theaters are dark.

Sex & The City is from the Brad era. There, I've said it: the word most of my close friends (I do have some) avoid saying around me. Like EQ, S&TC was a point of ridicule for my HBA boyfriend until he accidentally saw some of it over my shoulder (I could only watch it at his house, not having a tv of my own), & then he ended up on the couch with me, laughing at the girls' antics & pondering awkward situations. Like EQ, it was another thing that bonded us. Or bonded me, anyway.

But Carrie & Big ended up together while Brad & I parted ways. So a return to S&TC, knowing that it would culminate in a wedding (of course it would; are you stupid??), wasn't necessarily attractive to me. However, there was no way I couldn't attend. I had to attend.

In the beginning of the movie there were some flashbacks of Carrie & Big's previous break-ups, one of them in which Carrie begged Big: "Just tell me I'm The One. Just tell me... I'm The One." Which, we know from history, he couldn't do, & so they broke up.

I only vaguely remembered that episode, probably because it was too close to home at the time. When Louise, Carrie's new personal assistant, confided in Carrie that her ex-boyfriend had broken her heart telling her that he loved her but just didn't feel she was the one, I wanted to throw my soda at the movie screen.

I'm much less permeable now. But I can still get pissed.

I had never understood our break up (Break ups. There were 5 of them.). His explanations never made sense, nor did his behavior. If he would have just told me that he simply wasn't in love with me any more it would have made it easier for me. Would make it easier for me. But instead, as he extricated himself from my life, Brad insisted, like his life depended on it, that he loved me, really loved me. Gimme a pain sandwich with extra confusion & a side of ambiguous bullshit please. Yummy!!

After failing to meet her at the altar, Big sends Carrie a series of love letters. They are all (fictitiously), but one, quotes from famous love letters, because he can't find his own words & doesn't know what to say but still had to say something. Fortunately, Big did write one letter on his own. So. He did really have thoughts of his own. Thank goodness, since she took him back.

When I think back to all the different break up excuses Brad came up with, it's actually pretty funny. To this day I still don't know why we broke up. But part of me has been walking around all this time puzzling over not being The One. What would make someone The One. How someone knows when someone else is The One. Who I know that recognized The One. How could I have thought he was The One. Etc etc.

But maybe I can get off the hook here. Because maybe Brad was just saying whatever he could come up with to validate our break up. Maybe he was just quoting a break up expert because in actuality he didn't know what to say. And here I've been trying to figure this shit out for 3 years. And 30 days.

I know that using a movie to invalidate my last relationship is cheap, but maybe it's appropriate. At least there was one love letter that Big composed on his own. He did eventually find his own words.

Grats, Carrie. And grats me.

And THIS, my friends, is why I don't go to these kinds of movies.

AT&T Customer Service

4,000+ rollover minutes to use by July 4th. Plus the 600 I never use. How will I do it?

23 months ago I was in the midst of a painful, languishing dating situation. He was hot, he was a musician, he had a good job, he had a great house, he had 4 dogs. He was also hot. The problem was that he had a Cingular phone & he wouldn't fucking stop calling me, constantly, all day, all the time. He would even call me during my Thursday night BWL raid, when I had told him I would be unavailable to chat. But I put up with this nonsense because, well, he was hot.

He ran my T Mobile bill up to $200. I went out & got a damn Cingular phone.

I got rid of him a month later. I just can't talk on the phone that much. And here I was stuck with a 2-year contract. I had perhaps 5 friends with Cingular accounts, all of whom were more likely to text or call from a landline than call me on their Cingular phones. I'm not much of a phone talker to begin with.

I gave the phone to my mom who used an average of 45 weekend minutes per month & nothing else. Add 600 new rollover minutes, every billing cycle. For 23 months. Yeah, minutes expired while I paid $55 each month. Sheesh.

But emancipation is now imminent.

Cancellation was a painless, pleasant process. Cancellation can't be done at the AT&T website, & when I was informed I would have to call their customer service number I experienced misgivings.

I called 1-800-331-0500 & went through the automated menu options. The recorded voice spoke quickly (unlike HMSA Provider Services' recordings, which draw out every word & every space between every word to the max length short of actually slowing down the recording) & I only had to choose options twice: 0, then 4. Then as I was being transferred to a representative, my T Mobile phone lost signal & I was disconnected. For a second I thought it was a dirty trick (they did this to us at Tricare), but then I realized it was my T Mobile connection. Talk about irony.

My 2nd call to the 1-800 number was answered almost immediately by a CSR who was not from India (hey, this is already better than Dell!). Not only could I hear her clearly, she was very pleasantly to the point & did not attempt to waylay my cancellation attempt by reciting special offers that I might be interested in over & over again (already better than Citicard). I explained that I wished to cancel simply because of non-use, which could be seen plainly on my account information. She then transferred me to another representative who would do the actual cancellation.

I was interviewed briefly & not inappropriately, & then the cancellation was done. I was informed of the exact end date, my options should I wish to reactivate, & details of my final billing. She thanked me for my business with AT&T & wished me well.

Now, that's how a cancellation of service should go.

Food Review: Chez David

Once upon a time I was having dinner with my brother at Kincaid's, which is a wonderful option if you are looking for good, affordably-priced prime rib. Occasionally they have a very hot mama singing in the lounge area as well.

Add to that their ability to provide prime rib at the requested temperature. That earns like 300 points in my book. The correct temperature is huge. Huge.

"I'd like the prime rib," I told our server. "Rare. Like bloody rare. Like swimming in blood. If I can't get that, let me know & I'll order a steak." I'm generally pretty clear about how I like my beef.

"Same," my brother said.

When our dinners came, they were both just what I had asked for. It was just barely warm. I was greatly pleased, & our server was smug. My brother was actually a little nauseated.

There's only one thing, however, that is better than a bloody rare roast. And that would be a bloody rare roast with nuggets of raw garlic & a pothead's supply of butter sauteed mushrooms.

Now that's what I'm talking about.

I've had my brother David's chili, & it's probably the best chili I've ever tasted. Eye widening flavor & just a little too spicy. Now that's good chili. It's gotta hurt a little, like a good Anejo.

So when Audrey & I showed up for our table at Chez David, I was thinking about chili. But as soon as we got in the door I knew I was very, very wrong. But in a good way.

Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell beef.

Yum.

Sorry, I couldn't resist.

The chef was cooking a healthy portion of heaven in an impressive-looking rotisserie oven. The instructions had said 15 minutes per pound, so he was cooking it 10 minutes per pound, he said. Or something like that. Heavy salivation affects my hearing.

"It's probably ready already," I said. Hey, once the outside looks brown that's good. I mean, you wouldn't want to burn it, right?
David promptly removed the roast & started carving it up. I guess the smell was getting to him too.

As you can see, it was perfect. I've left this photo large simply because it's too pretty to size down any more.

Entertainment while we dined consisted of the much-bloodier-than-the-theater-version director's cut of Troy (hell yes). Between the excellent meal & Brad Pitt as Achilles, it was a deeply fulfilling feast of... well, meat.

I'd have to give this experience five stars.

We'll definitely be coming back. David has a copy of 300.

Doggy futons

There's someone who would, if she was reading my blog, undoubtedly correct my loose use of the term "futon" so I'll apologize now. However, I don't think she reads my stuff any more. I think I've hidden away sufficiently.

Although he has a gorgeous house built by my dad, Jack prefers his old carrier, which was his bed when I first brought him home. It betrayed him by flooding Friday night during a heavy rain, which sent both Jack & Chie into the wooden house. I cleaned out the carrier, but Jack had not gone back into it for any of his naps all day Saturday.

The cloth mats I used to cushion his carrier (thick woven placemats - perfect size) had gotten damp & I'd pulled them out of the carrier & left them piled just outside. When I noticed Jack perched morosely on top of the pile, trying to sleep, it occurred to me that perhaps he liked that cushiony stuff. I needed to launder the placemats, so I'd have to find something else for him. Or... make somethine else.

I raided my grandmother's ample store of rags --- threadbare towels, ripped shirts & other clothing --- & picked out the softest pieces along with a smooth rectangle of linen. I spread the rags around, folded it into the linen, & started sewing the edges. I added intermittent single stitched knots to hold the insides in place. Jack's new futon was just the right size --- slightly too big for the floor of the carrier.

No sooner had I laid it in his carrier than Jack lay down on it.

However, Chie suddenly developed an interest in the previously unappealing carrier. A slight tussle developed & the futon ended up outside on the porch.

Hm.

I returned to the rag box, & sewed another, slightly firmer but more heavily filled, doggy bodypillow. This longer, peanut-shaped futon went into the deluxe doghouse, & Chie immediately nestled up against it. But as soon as she had to pee Jack got up to investigate & ended up possessively hugging the bodypillow in the dog house, & Chie happily collapsed on the first, softer cushion.

I hadn't realized that Jack & Chie would appreciate something soft to sleep on; this is the first time that I've seen Chie sleep inside anything, carrier or doghouse, unless it was raining. I thought all this time that she preferred to sleep just outside my door because it was cooler.

But maybe dogs like sleeping on beds too.

I guess I'll be raiding that rag box more often. I think we'll need more futons. I wonder if I should buy some foam for pillows too, or would that be tempting fate? Who knows how many pieces my hard, finger-poking (yes, I sewed some parts with a needle & thread) work will be in tomorrow morning when cozy sleep is no longer in vogue.

But I guess it's worth it if I can get cute pictures like this.

A Little Rant: Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo

Pi'ikoi & Lunalilo has got to be one of the most annoying intersections that I know of.

Left turners from Pi'ikoi never seem to have a problem fucking over those of us hoping to turn left down Pensacola just so they can get on the freeway a few minutes sooner. It's really amazing how base the human spirit can be when it comes to getting in front of someone else.

In the past I've driven up as close as possible to the asshats blocking my way & then held down my horn. Just held it down, continuously, until they got the fuck out of my way. Yeah, it's amazing.

Further up where the freeway onramp is there are always even more dickheads pushing their way into the already congested lane to get on the freeway. When in the onramp lane, I always deny admission. Fuck that. If you needed to get on the freeway, you could have gotten into this lane a long time ago & waited in line like the rest of us. Instead these schmucks think they're so much more important than the rest of us on the road that they cruise right on up the "to Ward Avenue" lane & then want to cut in at the last moment. Again: fuck that. I even drive past the upset would-be cutters mouthing "Noooooooo" out my window. Yeah, fuck them.

Ok, I feel better now. I'm going to forward this to Dave Hisaka.

Aye-Aye!

Omg, I want one.

This is an Aye Aye; it's an endangered nocturnal primate in Madagascar, unafraid of humans (they've been known to scamper up & sniff environmentalists' shoes) but reputed by natives to be a harbinger of death, & so now is an endangered species due to habitat destruction & superstitious extermination by villagers.

The picture at right is of newborn Kintana, captive bred in Britain. Apparently this species is the only surviving member of its genus, having branched off from the Lemur line 66 million years ago.

So far at least 2 babies have been born & hand-raised in captivity at Bristol Zoo. I only just heard of these guys from a cool email that Mike sent today, featuring the 25 strangest animals.

This thing is my ideal pet based on appearances alone. Talk about love at first sight. If it could intermittently mutter evil-sounding phrases I would be catching a plane to Madagascar tomorrow.

Omg, so cute.