A tall man with red hair and humongous shoes was arrested yesterday and charged with attempted homicide. His victims are numbered in the billions and can be found all over the world. His weapons? Trans fats, saturated fats, sugar, artificial ingredients (including flavors and colors), preservatives, etc. I admit: I’m a health food freak. What are we putting in our bodies? For a list of ingredients, see here.

Must guard the great symbol at all costs. (Hmmm, maybe the big M shouuldn’t be in Pakistan?)

Down with fast food and here’s a little video for y’all:

Okay, guess who wins the Sherlock Holmes Award? Wyrdbyrd. I think Charlotte and YogaMum had it figured out but took pity on the perp and wouldn’t name names. Either that or the guilty party was blackmailing them. So wyrdbyrd put two and two together.

An arrest has been made of one Isabel. No last name.

It will be interesting to see if she manages to post bail, which is set at two hundred kongs—the highest ever set in this state for a canine. There is also suspicion of an accomplice. This office received an anonymous phone tip naming a co-conspirator:  Buddy, an Australian Shepherd/Husky mix.

We will be watching this case closely.

In the meantime, the world is a safer place with sinister Isabel off the streets.

In a recent gartenfische post about art and the true self, I said that music has to feel real to be meaningful for me. Anyway, to further underscore the point, here is a glorious video e-mailed to me by a family member. The following commentary accompanied the link:

“A real gem!!! Absolutely amazing. For those of you who do not like the finer arts of operatic singing you must listen to the following – it will change your appreciation. And to think this recording could have been lost to us. . . .”

Okay, so my question for you is (this is a trick to make sure you watched—I mean listened): Does this touch you like it touches me? Does it give you goosebumps? Are we on the same page?

Tagged by Jan!

What are your three favorite Christmas songs and who sings them?

Of course, I have to start right out cheating. There are so many great Christmas songs that I decided instead to list favorite Christmas albums.

Christmas Portrait by the Carpenters (The Carpenters may have been 70s corny, but she had the most gorgeous voice and this is a classic Christmas album—if only they didn’t overplay it in stores at Christmas time)
Songs for Christmas by Sufjan Stevens (Cranky turned me on to this one; I’m lovin’ it)
A Marian Christmas (especially Biebl’s Ave Maria—heavenly!) by the Choir of Trinity College

What are your three favorite Christmas foods?

Fudge with nuts
Grandma’s popcorn balls (which I have never managed to make without them falling to pieces, even with her recipe)
Candy cane cookies (my mother’s recipe, almond flavor—yum!)
Can I also say pumpkin pie, please? (it’s not like we get to eat it all year ’round)

What are three Christmas Secrets?

I’m afraid I can’t think of three. This one is probably similar to everybody else’s. When I was around ten years old, my mother remarried and they went out and spent what must have been oodles and oodles of money on gifts for my sister and I.  Well, Mom “hid” them under a sheet in her room and told us not to look.  Yeah right. My favorite was “Charlie,” a ventriloquist doll. Honestly, I can’t remember what the other gifts were, just that there were a lot of them (shows that spending a lot doesn’t necessarily make it memorable).

What are your three favorite Christmas movies?

The Bishop’s Wife (Cary Grant plays an angel—it’s great)
It’s a Wonderful Life (Jimmy Stewart)
A Christmas Carol (George C. Scott)
Little Women (Susan Sarandon, Winona Rider)—cheating again; I have to add one more, though it’s schmaltzy, it’s still a lovely holiday movie.

Now, taggees, if you’re game, are:

Heather, Charlotte, Moonmaid (and YogaMum, if you’re not too bogged down—I hesitate to do this, in case it’s like the straw on the camel’s back, so feel free to say no). I’ve picked people with a lot going on (why did I do that? I dunno. Maybe you need to take a break and think about silly little things for a bit.)

Ha!

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Okay, and here’s rare footage—the Star Wars perspective—of the Pope’s installation (do you call it that?).

Silly? Mais oui!

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Found both at the Claw’s (or is it the Conciliator’s?) blog. He’s always finding cool stuff.

The First Day of Christmas
Tom, Sweetness:
Oh darling–you sentimental, wonderful fool! I can’t tell you how surprised and delighted I was when they delivered the Partridge in a Pear Tree. I rushed out and bought the best cage I could find. I just hope the tree lives until spring.
With all my love, Agnes

The Second Day of Christmas
My Dear Tom:
The Two Turtle Doves are adorable! I had to go out and buy another cage ($38.50), but they are worth it. I am sure I will get used to the cooing.
All my love, Agnes

The Third Day of Christmas
Dear Tom:
Sweetheart, you truly are generous–Three French Hens. I just bought the last bird cage in town and I think the last bag of bird seed. I had to use my Mastercard, but I have three months to pay it off. Tom, I think they are just great, but don’t you think six birds are a bit much for my little four room house?
Love, Agnes

The Fourth Day of Christmas
Dear Tom:
They delivered the Four Calling Birds this morning. They are beautiful to look at, but do you know how much noise they make? Now really Tom, enough is enough.
Affectionately, Agnes

The Fifth Day of Christmas
Dear Tom:
What a surprise! Five Golden Rings. One for each finger! I would be so happy–if only those birds would shut up. They are starting to get on my nerves.
Love, Agnes

The Sixth Day of Christmas
Dear Tom!
Back to those damn birds again, are we? When I got home, Six Geese were laying all over my front steps. They are HUGE! Where the hell will I put them? I can’t sleep and the Smiths next door are complaining. Please stop.
Agnes

The Seventh Day of Christmas
Tom:
What the hell is with you and the damn birds??! Seven Swans a Swimming? My house stinks like a zoo. I spend all day cleaning up bird poop. The RUCKUS!
Agnes

The Eighth Day of Christmas
Mr. Tom Acker:
I prefer the birds. What the hell do I do with Eight Maids a Milking in a four room house with 23 birds? My backyard is 40 x 30. Imagine what eight cows did to a yard that size.
Back off, Tom.

The Ninth Day of Christmas
Tom Acker, you numskull:
What, are you some kind of sadist? Nine Pipers are Piping, slipping on guano, chasing maids around the house. The birds are squawking their heads off. I am going crazy! Oh, and the Smith’s landscaping was destroyed by the cows–they are circulating a petition to evict me.
You’ll get yours. Agnes

The Tenth Day of Christmas
You jerk:
You call that dancing? Ten Ladies knocked over all the bird cages. The cows are squashing the birds. Those damn geese laid eggs all over my bed. The health department subpoenaed me to give cause why my house should not be condemned.
Agnes

The Eleventh Day of Christmas
Listen you son of a bitch:
Eleven Lads a Leaping on all those maids and ladies! Now all 23 birds are dead–trampled to death in the orgy.
I hate your guts. A. Jones

The Twelfth Day of Christmas
I’ll kill you.
Twelve Drummers Drumming–the house sounds like a football game during a thunder storm. I got picked up for running a brothel—the cops hauled in all 51 of us while the cows rampaged through the neighborhood. Last I saw, the Smiths were firing up blow torches. If I ever get out of this mess, I’m coming for you, you dirty #$*@*%&.

No good *#$&%@, you.

Merry Christmas.

#3564578, c/o the State Penitentiary