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SUPER MULTI ETHNIC MULTI TALENTED HOMEMAKER GRANDMA
Ann Imig from Ann’s Rants is one of the most amazing people that I’ve never met in real life, but through her blog and various emails I have to say that she is like blogging royalty. I would say she is the Queen, but when I think of a queen I think of an old lady with man hands and Ann is much too pretty to be an old queen, so I think of her as The Duchess.
Ann is not just a blogger, she has become a friend who has helped me out in many ways during my time blogging - she’s always there to give a hand or spread some praise when I felt like I needed someone to just say, “you’re doing a good job” She is one of the few people I’ll go to when I need help with my own blog and I know that no matter what she’s doing she will find time to help me. I couldn’t have done any of this without her
Thank you Ann for the guest post
SUPER MULTI ETHNIC MULTI TALENTED HOMEMAKER GRANDMA
By: Ann Imig from Ann's Rants
The very day that Tony asked me to guest post about being a superhero, I was party to a bank hold up. Seeing a dude jump behind the counter and command us to “Get on the floor” exceeded my quotient of live action/adventure for the next four score and many years. No, if I had super-powers I would put them to beautifully mundane, yet practical use.
I’ve often dreamed of having my own, live-in set of Grandmas. Wait--Justice League of Grandmas sounds more super-heroic. After weeks on end of soup and sandwich meals (read: cereal and milk), I’ve longed for Grandmas authentic to the cuisine we prefer. Monday night? Italian Mamamia cooks spaghetti Bolognese. Tuesday? Enchiladas de Abuelita. Friday? Roast chicken ala Bubbe. My Justice League of Grandmas could live in their own multi-unit Grandma commune next door—sort of like Golden Girls but much more focused on the needs of my family. I guess that would make them Beholden Girls.
Now that awesome story-telling Tony has granted me my own superpowers…enter my alter-ego: A salt and pepper once a week salon-set hairdo, and a faint eau de cookies scent….I’m…SUPER! MULTI! ETHNIC! MULTI! TALENTED! HOMEMAKER! GRANDMA!
My alter ego spends only $100 a week at the store—shopping only on that infamously healthy perimeter, buying natural ingredients in bulk. She cooks three meals a day from scratch, pouring patience and coziness into each serving (as opposed to, say, boiling pasta AGAIN accompanied by deli turkey AGAIN with a side of ONCE AGAIN baby carrots).
Did I mention that SUPERMULTIETHNICMULTITALENTEDHOMEMAKERGRANDMA truly enjoys some zen-scrubbing? She spends her days scrubbing floors, because my fictional alter-ego loves to clean with non-toxic and once again made from scratch, vinegar/bakingsoda/grandma magic compounds. No sighing. No passive-aggressive whistling. No negative comments about the hereditary-on-your-Dad’s-side lack of pee stream/toilet water coordination.
Then, once my home is made, she powers up her super-never-ending-energy-for-children. In one mystifying swoop, which might look more like a hobble punctuated with a loud “OOF” she gets on the floor and holds my children in her lap and weaves stories of days gone by. Stories they are enchanted by (as opposed to, say, bored with due to many umms and long pauses where the storyteller kindasorta drifts off)
My SUPERMULTIETHNICMULTITALENTEDHOMEMAKERGRANDMA is also very crafty and gleans great pleasure in setting up projects for my children—from sock puppetry to burlap millinery! Yes the children forget about screens altogether in the presence of such authentic downhominess.
And when the day finally winds down, my children conga out the door behind her—all to the tune of Beastie Boy’s Boomin’ Granny.
Thank you Tony. Make it come true, Tony. Say you will.
Don't forget your chance to win a signed "Kick Ass" comic book.
Superheroes, Droids, and Muppets - what happens at wing night doesn't always stay at wing night
A few weeks ago, my friend Dave and I had a strange conversation during our weekly Chicken Wing Night. I don’t know who started the talk about superhereos, it was probably me because I’m a lot geekier than Dave, but the question was asked; if you could be a superhero what would you call yourself and what would your power be?
I told Dave that once, as I was standing in a long line at the bank waiting to withdraw some money I started thinking about different things. One of the thoughts I had was what kind of superpower I would like if I could choose any superpower. Dave said something about me being a real big geek, but I continued with my story. I told him that I looked at the line and thought that if I had the “Stink Power” I could make myself start to smell a little bit - maybe a whiff of armpit, then mix it with a little ass smell and continue until it got so bad that the person in front of me would breath in the smell and just pass out. I would simply step over that person, start the stink power up again and knock the next person unconscious with my power and step over them too. I would keep doing this until I got to the front of the line.
“I never realized just how geeky you are.” Dave said.
“That’s just part of my charm” I smiled. “So, what kind of a superhero would you be?”
Dave thought for a bit then answered, “I’d be a sidekick. I‘d be your sidekick” He looked at me, took a bite from his chicken wing, pointed at it and added, “I’d be your wingman. Get it, your wingman?
“Yeah I get it”
“I’d be the best sidekick ever.” He licked the wing sauce from his lips, “Yeah that’s what I’d be, your sidekick.”
“You can’t be a sidekick.” I said, “especially mine. If anything, I’d be your sidekick.”
“Why?”
“Dude,” I said taking a bite out of my own chicken wing. “You’re huge. You’re what? Six feet six inches tall and I’m five feet ten.”
“So?”
“So”, I said my mouth full of chicken wing, “the sidekick can’t be bigger than the hero. It’s just not right. That’s not how things are in the superhero world.” I didn’t even mention that fact that he has arms as big as my head and that last time we worked out together my maximum bench press was only warm up weight to him.
“The times they are a changing, so if our times are changing then maybe so are the times in the superhero world, maybe in this new time sidekicks are bigger than the heroes.” He looked at me and cocked one eyebrow up in a quizzed expression. “Why does the big good-looking guy always have to be the hero?”
“Shut the hell up. Dude, that’s just plain dumb, besides I didn’t say you were good-looking. Everyone knows that the hero is just bigger than the sidekick.”
My friend looked like he was about to give up and give in to my idea that the hero was always bigger than the sidekick, but then something came to mind. He looked at me and smiled a goofy smile. “What about Chewbacca and Han Solo? Chewbacca is the sidekick and he’s a lot bigger than Han Solo.” I thought about that for a minute and before I could say anything Dave added, “And what about C-3PO and R2-D2? C-3PO is bigger than R2.”
“How can you say R2-D2 is the hero?”
“He’s the hero because he saves everyone’s life many times during the entire Star Wars saga. What does C-3PO do besides whine and prance around?” He cocked his eyebrow again, which was starting to get on my nerves.
“In Star Wars C-3PO saves everyone from being crushed in the trash compactor.”
“Oh whoop de do” I never heard Dave say ‘whoop de do’ and for some reason it sounded really funny to me. “He saved them one time and he was a whinny cry baby about it. I seriously think he’s gay.”
“Whose gay?” I asked confused. “C-3PO?”
“Yeah, I think he’s gay. He’s got that English accent and he walks around all gayish.”
“Dude,” I laugh, “he’s a droid. Droids aren’t gay, they’re just robots. A droid can’t be gay just like a Muppet can’t be gay. C-3PO is not any gayer than Ernie or Burt.”
“What do you mean, they’re not gay? They’ve been living together for as long as I can remember and I don’t ever remember Maria or Prairie Dawn ever going over to visit. I bet Burt and Ernie had some wild, freaky Muppet sex.”
I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
Dave looked at me and said, “Yeah, and somehow I have a feeling it’s going to end up in your blog.”
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Comic Oasis (702) 212-8885 |
Don't forget your chance to win a first print, signed copy of "Kick Ass" #1
No more superheroes
No more superheroes
By: Nota Bene
I’m desperately worried. As worried as worried can be. The world is going to rack and ruin. We have terrorists hiding under the beds, we have global warming accelerating, we have bankers pilfering our wallets, we have earthquakes here there and everywhere, and we have more bent coppers (that’s police to you) than we know what to do with.
In times gone past this would not have been a problem. After all with the likes of Batman, Superman, Spiderman and Thunderbirds, I knew the world was safe. Not that I was ever allowed to read about these Superheroes…strict middle-class parenting meant that I was restricted to educational comics (Look and Learn and World of Wonder – but I somehow doubt they crossed the pond), and only occasionally allowed to watch Batman on TV…when it starred Adam West and Burt Ward. My vague awareness that there were Superheroes floating around in far off places like Gotham and Metropolis was sufficient to let me drift off to sleep in blissful comfort.
The boy was allowed more access to the world of Superheroes…well when I say allowed, I don’t think there was much choice for me….TV is a 24 hour phenomenon now, and the internet has fundamentally changed how we access these things. So for a few years, we had Batman and Spiderman cartoons and films. We had Superheroes that I had never heard of. Electra, Daredevil, X-Men and more. We had all sorts of toys to be thrown around the room as the goodies beat the baddies. And they were consumed with relish by a wide-eyed innocent who understood there were goodies and baddies and nothing in-between…the boy also thought they were pretty cool too. I’m not sure why, but Superman was not part of his repertoire. He never quite got into the comics – but more recently has taken to borrowing friends’ Manga comics – I don’t get these…they all just seem to be baddies.
But back to Burt Ward. He has a lot to answer for. After all, once the Batman TV series finished he struggled to find work and ended up in a porn movie. Everyone knew this; I don’t know how. And from that moment Superheroes were a tainted breed. The world was no longer black and white…it was shades of grey. And so our Superheroes changed too.
We walked out of Hulk…we were there for the bangs and crashes, and all we got was two hours of soul-searching and human frailty. The boy was devastated. Bangs and crashes should have been the order of the day. We watched The Incredibles…amused, perhaps bemused by the thought of Superheroes living in suburbia hiding away from the lawyers waiting to bust their asses. We liked The Spirit…but he was as weird as they come. What about Hancock? Erm, well, erm. And we watched the latest run of Batman - Christian Bale - movies, closing our ears and eyes to the humanisation of the character and only opening them when there’s some real Superhero action. That’s what we want. That’s all that we both want. We want Superheroes to be Superheroes, fighting and very nearly defeating deadly villains – but not quite because we want them to come back for another round. We want a simple life knowing who is good and who is bad.
With the media masters giving human frailties to our Superheroes, it’s no wonder that they have tried to give Superhuman powers to humans. So Tony Blair was elected in 1997 to change Britain, if not the world. And indeed he did…but not in the way we were expecting. He is now arch villain. And poor, poor Barack Obama….a world has held its breath in anticipation of him donning a cape and solving every problem we can think of. And all within a few weeks of being elected. For some reason that doesn’t seem to be happening. Evidently no Superhero.
I’d like there to be a new Superhero. The boy would like there to be a new Superhero. And I suspect a good many people would too.
Don't forget your chance to win a signed "Kick Ass" comic book.
Be Careful What You Wish For
Thank you Ian for the guest post
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Be Careful What You Wish For
By: Ian from Idiotts Stew
There’s no work for super-heroes anymore unless you consider circus-side-show-freak a viable career (and Zero certainly does not). But that’s what happens when you commit yourself to a goal and work like hell to achieve it; eventually you work yourself right out of a job. Zero tried to explain it to the dumbasses down at the Hall of Justice; tried to tell them to cool it. “We have to pace ourselves. If we wipe evil off the face of the earth, who are we gonna fight? What will we do with our days? How we gonna get paid?” But they wouldn’t listen. Wonder-Woman held all the political cards back then; she had the real super-power. Being able to fly and see through walls with x-ray vision doesn’t mean much when you are up against a large-breasted Amazon chick in a spandex leotard and gold lamet go-go boots. The horn-dogs did everything she commanded and they competed with one another for her attention until all of the villains were defeated. And then came the lay-offs.
Zero’s pension keeps him in beer and cigarettes. He “fills” his days now with TV and memories. He’s out of shape and his powers are faded. He recently attempted a simple “turning-back-of-time” (one of his trademark tricks) and completely exhausted himself without so much as getting one second back. If he could, he’d spin this earth all the way back to the days when there was bad for the good to battle. That’s when life made sense. That’s when there was balance.
Still, he believes he could make a comeback if he was given the opportunity and a membership at Gold’s Gym. He maintains the service on his hot-line phone, just in case.
Zero steps out of his travel-trailer home and into a sandstorm. Sixty mile an hour winds have brought the brown blizzard to the north end of the Coachella valley again. Inhaling deeply, Zero feels the dirty needles tearing at his throat and lungs. Generally speaking he can take 2 or 3 full breaths before his windpipe closes off and the hacking begins. Eventually he’ll be vomiting and up will come bloody dirt and the mornings’ toasted peanut-butter sandwich.
Wham! Pow!
I’m thrilled to announce that in honor of my “Kick Ass” contest I’ve gathered some of my “Kick Ass” blogger friends and have asked them to write a guest post. Each of these mild mannered bloggers were given the task to write a post that had to do with either superheroes or comic books. You are in for a treat as these “Super-bloggers“, are well known in the blogginng world, each one has the gift of being a great writer who can make you laugh or bring a tear to your eyes and a lump to your throat by their written words. Although each piece has a different feel to it, they all share one thing - they are all great. I feel proud and honored that this bunch of people have accepted my humble request.
To start this “KIck Ass” contest we have Doug from The Boomer Musing. When I thought of doing this contest and having guest posts, Doug was one of the first bloggers that came to mind. No matter what you find on his blog you know it’s going to be good and a lot of times thought provoking.
There’s something about Douglas that I can’t explain, he gives me a feeling that he’s a lot like that one cool uncle in the family - you know, the one who will sit on the floor with you and listen patiently as you go through your box of comics explaining the origins of each superhero.
I’m proud to have him start this “Kick Ass” giveaway. Thank you Doug
"What do tigers dream of, when they take a little tiger snooze. Do they dream of mauling zebras, or Halle Berry in her cat woman suit…”
Wham! Pow!
By: Douglas from the Boomer Musings
I am writing here today because Tony asked me to. And he seems like a nice guy. And I have this ego issue where I cannot refuse someone's request, especially nice guys like Tony. If you do not know who I am, I write the Boomer Musings blog where I muse over things and wax nostalgic about my almost forgotten youth.
Comic books were a major part of my life as a child. I practically learned to read because of them and through them. I started with comic strips, of course. Listening to the radio where, each Sunday morning, some voices on the radio acted them out while I followed the pictures in the colorful "Funny Papers" of the Sunday newspaper. Yeah, I am that old. My family had not yet bought a TV because they were luxuries at the end of the 1940's and we couldn't afford luxuries. And radio was still full of shows, having not yet devolved into just music and DJ's, that were to eventually end up on TV.
When I went to school in the first grade, they began to teach us to read. I was excited about that because I wanted to read very badly. I didn't want to depend on someone else to tell me what the words in the balloons above the heads of the characters in the funny papers and comic books were. I wanted to be able to sit alone somewhere and read them for myself.
But school didn't give me much to read.
"See Dick."
"See Jane."
"See Dick and Jane."
Yadda-yadda-yadda.
Yeah, not exactly riveting prose.
I was already getting involved in Superman and Batman at home. I knew they didn't talk like that or just do things like run around in the yard with a dog. They flew and jumped and battled bad guys. They had adventures! And I wanted to read about them, become involved with them. When you are 5 or 6, you have a purity of imagination. You believe these things.
It seemed like it took me ages back then to build enough of a vocabulary to really understand what I was reading. But I did. And I read every comic book I could get my hands on. D.C. Comics were, hands down, the best. I found out about Krypton, and Smallville, and Metropolis, and The Daily Planet. Also about Gotham City, and Bruce Wayne and his ward (and what a "ward" was). I also learned about imaginary places where people could fly and do amazing stunts and always win out in the end. Very different than my personal reality.
My favorite place in all the world during those years was the closet in my Uncle Eddie's bedroom. The closet was on the second floor of a townhouse in Queens, New York. It was a magical place. In that closet, you see, was a big stack of comic books. Not just ones with Superman and Batman and Aquaman but horror comics and Mad comics (which became Mad Magazine). This was a whole new world to me. A darker one and utterly fascinating. A journey into the mind as well as for the mind.
I also found, around that time, a series of comic books called Classics Illustrated. These were renditions of classic books and stories laid out in comic book format. They were part of my moving away from comic books to regular books; un-illustrated books where I had to use my imagination to draw the pictures that the words described.
By the time I was in my early teens, I had wandered away from my love of comic books and moved into traditional books. And began a love of the written word which has sustained me all my life.
I owe it all to comic books.
Don't forget your chance to win a signed "Kick Ass" comic book.
A "Kick Ass" Giveaway Contest
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Comic Oasis (702) 212-8885 |
Presents...
I’m proud to announce that my friend Derrick at Comic Oasis in Las Vegas Nv has given me a “Kick Ass” comic book #1 (how cool is that - and I didn’t even have to beg very much for it) If you’re a comic fan or a “Kick Ass” fan you know how hard this comic is to find and once the movie comes out - well, good luck in finding one. To make this an even sweeter deal, this comic is signed by both Mark Millar and John Romita Jr - the writer and the artist of this oh so violently good comic book - it‘s not for the kiddos. This comic will come with a board and a protective bag to keep it in mint condition until it gets into your hands, then you do what you want with it. This also comes with a Certificate of Authenticity that certifies that the signatures of the people portrayed on the comic are guaranteed authentic and that it was signed in person before the guarantor, agent or representative - that just means that this is the real deal boys and girls.
This is such a cool comic that I wish I could keep it myself, but that wasn’t the deal - the deal was that we were going to give it away in a “Kick Ass” contest on my blog, so as much as I hate to part with it, it will be given away to some lucky winner. I bet you're wondering, how do you win it?
In case you don’t know, the best way to describe the movie and the comic is from the website --“Kick-Ass tells the story of average teenager Dave Lizewski, a comic-book fanboy who decides to take his obsession as inspiration to become a real-life superhero.
As any good superhero would, he chooses a new name — Kick-Ass — assembles a suit and mask to wear, and gets to work fighting crime. There’s only one problem standing in his way: Kick-Ass has absolutely no superpowers.
His life is forever changed as he inspires a subculture of copy cats, is hunted by assorted violent and unpleasant characters, and meets up with a pair of crazed vigilantes, including an 11-year-old sword-wielding dynamo, Hit Girl and her father, Big Daddy.”
So, I was wondering, what if everyone decided to “take their obsession as inspiration to become a real-life superhero.” What kind of superhero would you be? In the movie/comic “Kick Ass” does not have any superpowers but for this contest your superhero can have them, if you choose to have powers.
How to Enter:
- Post an entry on your blog with your submission(s) - if you don’t have a blog then you can post it on your facebook, myspace, etc.
- Comment on this post with a link to your submission before Midnight PST on Friday March 19th.
You can enter as many times as you like, but each entry should be unique and have a comment to this link. The winner will be determined by a panel of my “geeky” friends, so with all that being said - have fun and good luck.
I've posted this before, but so far it's my favorite trailer - for those of you haven't seen this, it's the red band “Hit Girl” trailer which is full of graphic violence. (you've been warned)
Coming Soon ... A Kick Ass Contest
Coming soon ….
Comic Oasis
3121 N. Rainbow
Las Vegas, Nv 89108
(702) 212-8885
PRESENTS...
Anything and everything you've wondered about farts
normally I don't post things like this but a good friend of mine sent me this in an email and for some reason it just seemed like the thing to post on this blog. So, here it is just about anyynig and everything you'd ever want to know about farts:
I've always said that "I've never claimed to be gentleman" and now I can say that "I've never claimed this blog had class."
Emergency Room Visit
“Wake up! We have to take Melanie to the hospital!” those were the only clear words I heard as I was awaken from a sound sleep at three in the morning. I threw the covers off and heard something smash against the wall in the darkness, later I would find out it was my cell phone had somehow been whipped off the night table by the covers as I threw them off - I have so much bad luck with cell phones.
“what’s going on?” I asked as I jumped into my clothes and could feel myself starting to hyperventilate.
“she’s having trouble breathing!”
My niece was laying on the sofa, her breathing was shallow and rough sounding.
She looked up at me and through labored breathing and said, “I love you with all my heart.”
Any tough guy, macho facade I may have had at the time just melted as I said, “I love you too baby. You’re going to be ok.”
“ok,” she said and closed her eyes.
I kissed her on the forehead, wrapped her in a blanket and buckled her in her seat, then I jumped into the driver’s side of the car and drove to the hospital, well, more like flew to the hospital with my emergency lights on. Calls were made as we drove to the hospital, so my niece would have three of the important people in her life there with her, her mom, her grandma and myself.
My mom and sister took her into the emergency room while I parked the car. By the time I got back they had already taken her back and put her in a room so I sat in the waiting room waiting and watching the other people who were there with their own sick children, but not really paying attention to them. My thoughts drifted from memory to memory of other visits to the waiting room. I thought about the time when we brought my nephew in for almost the same exact thing and how rough that experience had been. I thought of the time I was sitting in the waiting room and my mom told us she had cancer and I thought of the time so many years ago as I waited on that Easter Sunday for the paramedics to come out and confirm that the little girl I loved so much had been killed by a drunk driver and how my life would change forever after that. I let the thoughts come and go, but I didn’t linger on them long. I was there for my niece and had to focus on that.
I thought of the look in her eyes as she struggled to breathe and how she said she loved me with all her heart and how she didn’t question my words when I said she was going to be ok. She had no reason not to believe me, I never lie to the kids. I want them to know that no matter what I will always tell them the truth. This time I didn’t know what was going on but I had to believe that she was going to be alright and that was all she needed. I had to go outside to be alone and clear my head.
Please let her be ok.
My sister was waiting for me when I went back inside the waiting room. “She wants you. She wants her uncle.”
When I walked into the room, she reached out to me and called out my name. Her eyes were rimmed with tears. “I threw up.” She cried.
“It’s ok.” I said pushing her hair from her forehead.
The nurse came in, “we need to give her a shot because she threw up her medicine.”
my niece looked up at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “I don’t want a shot. It’s going to hurt.”
“It will hurt for a little bit, but then you’ll feel better after that.” I told her as she reached for my hand.
“Ok.” she knew I was telling her the truth.
The nurse wiped a spot on her leg, then jabbed the needle in. My niece held my hand and then she cried. The nurse put a “Hello Kitty” on her leg and right away my niece started to feel better. As the nurse prepared the breathing treatment I ran my fingers through my nieces hair and said to her, “I love you with all my heart.”
She smiled at me. “I love you with all my heart too.”
The nurse put the breathing mask on her and soon she was sound asleep. I watched her late into the night and then into the early morning as she inhaled the mist that helped open up her airways so she could breathe. I don’t know when, but sometime during the early morning hours I rested my head next to hers and slowly fell asleep.
“Everything was going to be ok.”
I had a new post, I really did
Well, I had a post all ready for today but my computer froze up and being the dumb-ass that I am I didn’t save it, so it was lost. Instead of going the day without posting anything I decided that I would let you all check out this trailer for the new movie “Kick Ass” that is out in April.
I have to warn you that the comic book this movie is based on is graphic and violent, and it looks like the movie stays true to the comic - this is the red band “Hit Girl” trailer which is full of graphic violence.
