Sweet Deal!

C-Minus sent me this perplexing image the other day:

The only rational, non-idiotic reason this sign would exist would be if it were advertising a sale on actual plastic toy quarters or something, for playing with a toy cash register perhaps. But even then, spending fifty cents on a toy quarter would seem absurd, especially when you could just use a real quarter and save fifty percent.

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Animated Friday (Xmas Gif Edition)!

I haven’t had an Animated Friday in a long time, simply because they have begun to lose their allure. There are a ton of sites devoted to animated GIFs out there, so what’s the point of me posting them anymore? But then I came across this site, which renews my love of Animated GIFs by literally repackaging them for xmas:

So, go ahead and open your Christmas GIF.

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If you didn’t think I looked like a pedophile before…

For placing second in the unofficial Xmas Sweater contest at my work party last night, I got a prize:

It’s a semi-creepy Scottish-style, Xmas-inspired Tam o’ Shanter cap. If I was worried that my Snoopy-Riding-a Candy-Cane-Xmas Vest made me look like a pedophile before, then as I added the hat last night I probably sent people’s pedo-meters into the red.

But, I suspect that Snoopy vest has seen it’s last party, as least on my body. So I guess this won’t be an issue any longer. It’s still up in the air as to whether or not the Dan o’ Shanter will make any future appearances.

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Smooshy Smoosh

My car and I got all smooshy smooshed last night. I was just minding my own bidness when an SUV jumped the median to my left and slammed into my driver’s-side door, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision. I could have easily gone through life without needing to know what an airbag feels like as it pummels your face, but I guess I’m lucky to have had the experience, if that’s how you wanna look at it.

After the guy hit me, my car was forced off into a nearby snowbank, and so it took me a while to get my berrings. A witness came up and asked if I was alright, and then for some reason I started to gather all the CDs that were now scattered about my car. Eventually, the driver of the other car came over. He was a younger man of undeterminable Eastern origin, and this is how that particular conversation went:

Him: Oh man, it’s slippery out there.

My Thoughts: I think I’m okay from what I can tell, thanks for asking.
Me Out Loud: Uh, yeah, I guess. You okay?

Him: I saw the red break lights in front of me and so I swerved to not hit them.

My Thoughts: You swerved into oncoming traffic to avoid rear-ending someone? Brilliant.
Me Out Loud: Oh.

Him: It’s not even my car.

My Thoughts: Well this used to be my car, but I guess we should be more worried about you right now.
Me Out Loud: Oh. That sucks.

* long pause *

Him: So… do you know the laws around here?

My Thoughts: Here we go…
Me Out Loud: Ye…

Him, Cutting Me Off: Because I don’t really have a license to drive.

My Thoughts: Oh Jebus.
Me Out Loud: But you got insurance right?

Him: Oh yes, I think she does.

* he looks over my car *

Him: Man, you lucky to be alive.

My Thoughts: If you don’t shut up and get out of my sight you’re going to be lucky to be alive.
Me Out Loud: I’m going to get out of the street and wait for the cops now.

In my limited experience, cops are generally not very amiable. It was ten below and I was freezing, and I asked if we could sit in a squad car while they wrote out the report. He just stared at me, without replying, grimmacing just enough for me to notice. Then a more civilized civil servant came over and said I could sit in the back of his squad car, usually reserved for handcuffed criminals, except the second I got in there on those hard plastic seats and with the glass divider pane right up against my face, I got super claustrophobic and I made him let me out again. I probably wasn’t making any new dan fans in law enforcement.

Somehow the driver’s side mirror ended up on the passenger seat floor, without smashing my face on its way over, so I was glad about that. I got a few small cuts on my hands from when the window exploded, and I can still feel where that airbag hit my face this morning, but I got no exciting bruises to show for it.


This airbag and I have a complicated love/hate relationship right now.

Now comes the worst part: dealing with the insurance agencies and trying to figure out how I’m going to get around for the next couple weeks.

Yay for Minnesota Winters!

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It Snowed Last Night

It’s all blizzardy up in here.

Being snowed in for the weekend was supposed to be fun, but I had too much to do, and somehow I lost my keys without ever leaving the house, which is like one of those locked-room mysteries, and everything has been a major frustration. Especially the driving, when actually being able to stop your car becomes a luxury.

A coworker told me to get some blizzacks for my car, to help with the traction. I thought he was talking like Snoop Dogg in the hizzity hizzouse or whatever, and I was all “What are blacks?” And he was all “No, I said blizzacks,” and I was all “Like blizzity blizzacks?” and then there was a weird back and forth exchange where neither of us could comprehend what the other one was talking about. Finally I deduced that Blizzacks are actually a brand of tire or something.

Anyway, I need a snowday to recover from this snowday.

It Snowed Get Adobe Flash player

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File Under: Too Drunk To Care

A few years ago I went to a wax museum in Las Vegas while I was a little tipsy and took some admittedly obnoxious photos. Then I dedicated a web photo gallery to the whole experience. It never got much traffic on my site, but over the last few months I’ve been getting a lot of emails and comments from people having seen my photos on other websites. So I went and googled “Drunk Guy at a Wax Museum” and it looks like my image set has been making the rounds on dozens of sites across the globe.


File Under: Too Drunk to Care

All of these sites are basically vultures. They just go around stealing other people’s content without any citations or links back to the original authors, most likely for the ad revenue, but also sometimes to deliver computer viruses, which is why I spent three hours removing the Antivirus Action Virus from my machine the other day (which is also why I’m not naming any of these other sites, because I don’t want the same thing to happen to anyone else). That sucked, but it was fun seeing my face on sites in China and India, surrounded by language which could have been calling for fatwas against me, for all I know.

The content theft doesn’t bother me all that much, since I’ve posted my share of uncited content, and since that’s kinda the nature of the digital beast. Plus, most of those vulture sites get a lot more traffic than my little blog has ever received, which means they also get a lot more comments. And it’s always fun to read what other random internet people think of me and my photo buffoonery:

The comment that tries to curse me with the haunting of dead celebrities is pretty awesome. That one took some effort. Here are some from another site:

I guess the “look at me” generation is better than “Generation X” or whatever. Reality Bites, man. But I do have my defenders as well (I apologize in advance for the language. Apparently I have some fans on the Jersey Shore.):

Allow me to repost that as text, to make it easier to read so that everyone can appreciate its eloquence:

i agree, this guy looks fun as fuck ! also, bitches need to shut up! always fuckin cryin about something i swear. i wanna play with the boys why are the boys mean wahhhh!! stfu !!!!!!!!!!! im a heterosexual girl and i cant stand a bitch boy omg! ……………………………………….boys are fun! shut up! playing w/ boys is fun!! go away if you want to make your fucking female points .. so irritating….. you know seriously, this is why women get no respect. because of your fucking whining everytime you try playing with the big kids man. this is the fucking internet… i dont know you people and i dont care about your whiny female feelings ! honestly! theres shit you girls say sometimes on here -funny as fuck- but then i gotta look at the whininess .. lovely. rubber dog turds was correct. the boys laugh it off, the girls have to cry . i wonder what delights will be said about this, if it isnt too late. what shit will be said by the girls for my complaints here… considering im also a bitch…. i wonder………

Again, sorry for the language. The rampant vulgarities are clearly nothing more than a symptom of her unrestrainable passion. And although that part about rubber dog turds is a little out of nowhere, I agree with her sentiment completely: Bitches be trippin’. And the one reply to her comment was totally cruel and unwarranted:

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Does this outfit make me look like a pedophile?

I bought an ugly xmas sweater off eBay the other day to wear to my company xmas party this year. Then, as a practice run I wore it to a friendly holiday get-together last weekend, and rather than chuckles and smiles I got winces and stinkeyes. Eventually someone admitted what everyone else was thinking: my funky xmas sweater made me look like a pedophile.

I don’t see it. Is it the Snoopys riding candy canes? The peppermint piping? The feminine cut? The oversized fit? Maybe it’s all in their own perverse minds, but now I’m nervous about wearing it to my work party next week.

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A Kickass Xmas 2010

This is the day that I unveil my new 2010 Kickass Xmas Mix, bust out my Xmas decorations, and start drinking early. The mix this year is an eclectic one. And yeah, it’s got The Cast of Glee and The Wiggles on it. Big whoop. Wannafightabouddit?

It also ends with what might be the best version of Auld Lang Syne I’ve ever heard in my whole life. I made a Snowdan for the cover, and he’s catching snowflakes on his tongue, which I know is a tad creepy in a cannabilistic General-Cinemas-animated-Pepsi-cup-drinking-herself-before-a-movie kind of way, if that makes any sense, but doesn’t he look like he’s having fun? You would be too if you were listening to this amazing mix, which you could be if you just emailed me and asked me real nicely about how one might be able to do so:

1  I Wish It Was Christmas Today : Julian Casablancas
2  Deck the Rooftop : Glee Cast
3  It Snowed : Meaghan Smith
4  Caroling, Caroling : Nat King Cole
5  Joseph, Who Understood : The New Pornographers
6  Joy To The World : Sufjan Stevens
7  Get Down for the Holidays : Jenny O
8  Christmas Is Coming Soon  : Blitzen Trapper
9  Happy Joyous Hanukkah : Indigo Girls
10 Step Into Christmas : The Puppini Sisters
11 Jingle Bells : Wayne Newton
12 Zat You Santa Claus : Ingrid Lucia
13 The Christmas Song Song : Rocky and Balls
14 No Christmas for Me : Zee Avi
15 Round & Round : Frank Sinatra
16 Christmas TV : Slow Club
17 Calling To Say : Serena Ryder
18 Little Drummer Boy : Meaghan Smith
19 A Party For Santa Claus : Lord Nelson
20 Christmas Time Is Here : Family Force 5
21 For You Who Fear My Name : The Welcome Wagon
22 Angel In the Snow (Xmas Mix) : Elliott Smith
23 Our New Year : Tori Amos
24 Ding Dong Merrily On High : The Wiggles
25 Auld Lang Syne : Pink Martini 

MERRY XMAS SEASON!

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Hopes

This made me laugh out load, which I’m sure speaks a lot about my mind lately.

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CLOSURE

So planetdan has been painfully neglected as of late. I did take a trip to Hawaii last month, but my absence has mostly been due to the fact that I moved. Or rather, I put my house up for sale, sold it for a song, agreed to purchase a new one, and then lived in limbo for months until the damn thing finally closed – just last Friday. I’ll try to keep it short:

February
I put my house up for sale, thinking that such an awesome house would surely incite a bidding war, and that the thing would sell for a premium, netting me a hundred grand to put down toward the next house, easy. I have a ton of showings (and log countless hours to vacuuming, dusting, and sitting at the coffee shop waiting it out) but no offers.

March thru July
As I slowly catch up to the reality of the crappy real estate market, I am forced to admit that my house might be overpriced. I try various price reductions, new signage, and weekly open houses, but people still don’t seem to be grasping the unparallelled charm and decorative whimsy of Casa de Danny. I set up a nanny cam in the house in the hopes of hearing some constructive criticism, but the garbled audio picks up nothing except for the loud booming bass when someone actually has the guts to play a song on my jukebox.

August
After four price reductions the showings have all but dried up. The options are to take it off the market and try again in a few years, or to do one more drastic price reduction as a last ditch effort. I love my house, but in my head I’ve already moved, so I try for bottom dollar. It sells in three days and for twenty percent less than I was hoping. Closing is scheduled for a little over a month away, so I start looking for a new home, and find the perfect place three days later. They accept the offer and I start packing.

The buyers of my old house schedule their inspections and appraisals. The house is in even better shape than I thought. I see the new buyers drive by the house occasionally, clearly looking forward to moving in. I’m knocking on wood like crazy and doing everything I can not to jinx the sale, when one morning I wake up to this:

My neighbor’s car, parked directly in front of my newly-sold home, has had its tires stolen, replaced by a lone cinder block, like I lived in the projects or something. I thought this type of sh!t only happened in the movies. I tell the neighbor to get that thing towed before my buyers drive by, mouths agape. He complies, and luckily no one is the wiser.

September
Closing time arrives and my old house sells without a hitch. My new place is not so lucky, though, and closing has been delayed until the seller can get his affairs in order. He lets us move into the house anyway, which is good because I would have nowhere else to live, but it’s also unnerving because if the house doesn’t close we’ll have to move right back out a month later.

On moving day, the meteorologist predicts it will Flash Flood all day long, and it does, but I’ve hired movers so I stay dry as a bone and tip them all ten dollars extra. Regardless, none of my furniture fits in the new place and moving sucks hind teat. Is that even a phrase? Hind teat? I don’t like it and I wish I hadn’t used it.

October
The new place is nice, but not officially ours yet, so I feel apprehensive to hang anything on the walls or alter the decor, so I just live out of boxes. Then one day we get a foreclosure letter in the mail that says all occupants must be out of the house by December. Panic is followed by lawyers who are followed by the realization that if we don’t close on the house by December, it will go into foreclosure, and we will be evicted. Which sounds awesome, but there is nothing I can do about it. I go to Hawaii and lay on the beach and try not to think about the rotting pit in my stomach.

November
After countless delays, the new place has still not closed, and certain requirements detailed in the purchase agreement have not yet been met. Closing is scheduled for a Friday, and on Thursday night we are forced to threaten to walk away from the deal. There are screaming matches between realtors and few hurt feeling when dan gets testy and starts telling people how it is. Very few escape my wrath. But at the last moment everything works out, we officially buy the place, and I spend the next week walking around IKEA like a zombie, hemorrhaging money.

This whole process of getting from one place to another has been the world’s biggest pain in the ass, and in the future I will probably have to refer to 2010 as “The Lost Year,” but now I live here:

The only thing I haven’t really figured out yet is how to deal with this:

Won’t the tree eventually outgrow the hole and rip the deck to shreds? Doesn’t nature always win these battles? Oh well, looks cool in the mean time.

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Wall of Dan – The Beginning

No one’s ever drawn a portrait of danny before. Ever. Not one cheesy baby portrait in pencil. Not one poorly-conceived 80′s painting of me straddling a wall in a mini-skirt a’la Some Kind of Wonderful. Not even one of those ham-fisted caricatures you can get at the county fair for fifteen minutes and ten dollars.


Some Kind of Horrible.

So I commissioned the first portrait of danny from an internet friend, and it only cost me twenty bucks, delivered to my door. So consider this the big unveiling:


The first commissioned portrait of danny, ever.


The inspiration.

For the record, it measures 3.25″ x 4.5″ and I love it, although I’m having a hard time finding a frame for it. Anyway, I feel like commissioning inexpensive self-portraits might be a new hobby of mine, so if anyone’s got a recommendation for a good portrait artist, send them my way. One day I’ll have a whole wall of ‘em. A wall of dan. Just like I’ve always deserved.

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Matrioshka

My favorite joke of the month, told to me by my buddy Ricko:

“I don’t really like those Russian nesting dolls. They’re just so into themselves.”

Okay, so maybe it’s not the funniest joke in the world, and kinda random to boot, but I like it.

I am fascinated by nesting dolls. I hesitate to say that I “love” them out of fear that people may take that sentiment a tad too seriously and I’ll get nothing but nesting dolls for every birthday, christmas, and anniversary until the day I die. (Likewise and for the record, I do not officially collect anything at all. So there are no easy-outs for gift-giving when it comes to danny. But I digress.)

Over ten years ago I bought a set of blank nesting dolls off the internet in the hopes of coming up with some really clever or funky idea for how to paint on them,  but no idea ever came, and so now they just sit in the back of my closet like nested trophies of my creative failure.

So if anyone’s got any bright ideas, send them my way. But Michael Jackson has already been done:

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Swimming with Sharks

I’ve been gone. From both the blogosphere and Minnesota. I sold my house and have been trying to buy a new one and the process is astoundingly awful and drawn out, in the middle of which I went to Hawaii and swam with the sharks:

When the lady said, “Anyone who wants to swim with the White Tips, follow me this way,” I didn’t realize that White Tips were sharks. Sure, they are smaller, docile creatures who seemed more interested in burying their heads in the ocean floor than eating the fleshy part of my thigh, but being an Icthyophobe, I got the hell out of there as soon as I realized what I was looking at. Eff that.

I’m surprised I even got in the ocean in the first place, considering I had sworn off snorkeling when I saw them drag a dead snorkeler out of the surf and onto the beach on a previous Hawaiian adventure. “That guy’s hardcore!” we all remarked as we saw him strutting out into the ocean on his own with nothing but a snorkel mask and some flippers. A few minutes later, he wasn’t so hardcore anymore. Unexpected deaths can cast a pall over your entire vacation if you’re not careful, so you gotta keep them to a minimum.

Anyway, I’ll blog all about my trip, my shark adventure, my old-house-selling and my new-home-buying woes, as well as everything else as soon as I can get myself and my soiled swimsuit sorted out.

In the meantime, here are some more grody fishies.

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A Sexy Halloween Overload

It’s that time of the year again.

We all know that sexy Halloween costumes for women have gotten out of control. I lampooned them years ago. The difference between then and now is that back then I had to invent phony costumes in order to push it to the level of total absurdity, but now the costume manufacturers are doing the work for me. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, the following examples of my favorite Sexy Halloween Costumes of 2010 need no embellishment:

1. Sexy Avatar Babe
This one was inevitable, since it’s the most popular movie of all time, and you just know that dozens of sci-fi convention gals have been testing out their blue coverall makeup for months. But even if it’s totally popular, that doesn’t mean it’s not entirely regrettable.

2. Sexy Horror Movie Heroes
The female Jason costume is just a sports jersey with no pants, which is probably the same as her “Sunday Best” in the Fall. And lady Chucky? There was a Bride of Chucky, you know. Why make him into a her when you already got a perfectly good her? I suppose at the very least they are trying to be scary.

3. Sexy New Twists on Old Classics
Apparently old classics like Sexy Cop just weren’t sexy enough anymore, so this new version updates the ensemble into what is basically a handkerchief and a thong. If it weren’t for the barely-there badge and the handcuffs, this costume could just as easily be called Sexy Discount Fabric Scraps.

4. Sexy CSI Slut
This one is sort of baffling, just because I can’t think of a logical reason for her to be wrapped in crime-scene tape, unless she was the victim, and the magnifying glass is like CSI: Sherlock Holmes edition. And where on earth does she keep her fingerprinting duster?

5. Sexy Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Cowabunga! You and three of your sluttiest friends can have the sexy time of your life… at your 10-year-old neighbor’s Halloween party.

6. Sexy Finding Nemo Nymphette
Or you could have the sexy time of your life… at your 8-year-old neighbor’s Halloween party.
You can buy this at yandy.com, if you are so inclined.

7. Sexy Sesame Street Hotties
Or you could have the sexy time of your life… at your 5-year-old neighbor’s Halloween party. Because why stop at elementary school? Why not scar children for life right in pre-school? Heck, everyone needs to learn that C is for Cookie sometime. Sexy Big Bird blows my mind.

8. Sexy Mrs. Potato Head
This one might be my favorite.

“Hey Tiff, what are you going to be for Halloween?”

“Sexy Mrs. Potato Head.”

“That’s hott.” <– said in your most Paris Hiltony voice.

9. Sexy Halloween Time for Man Sluts
Apparently, the Sexy Halloween Costume trend is even crossing gender boundaries this year, although they are starting off simple:

Unfortunately, the sexiest man costume of all is not available yet. But don’t fret, it’s coming soon. Just in case the Walmart near you doesn’t carry black wife-beaters, self-tanner, and Aquanet.

Can’t wait until next year!

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Belated

Oops. Shhhhh. Don’t bring it up, but planetdan.net turned eight years old last week and I forgot to give it a present. :(

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