The Deep - Natural History Museuem Exhibit

Natural History Museums just seem so museumy. I love it. I mean, I've never been there personally, but I saw the trailer for "Night at the Museum", so sort of close enough. Except not really close at all.

Look at these monsters! (all from guardian.co.uk)

This guy is literally called Fangtooth. What a great name for a fish. Or me. Or a band. And guess who'd be in his band....

Guitarfish! I'm not even making this up. This photo is of a dried(?) or pickled(?) guitarfish and its wearing a fancy little rope belt tied in a knot! What you think are his eyes are actually the nostrils, so I don't even want to guess at the other body holes. It also looks like it has wings, and I'm pretty sure someone could've convinced me that it was just a really old person (if they dressed it up and took it to a pool party like "Weekend at Bernie's" style). 

Japanese Giant Spider Crab. The largest crab in the world with a leg span of up to 4 metres. So that technically means they can walk over people and maybe poop on them. But Wikipedia says this crab has "a gentle disposition despite its ferocious appearance" so they probably wouldn't do, that being gentle and all. I think I'm also imagining this thing to be a hundred times larger than a 4 metre leg span, since I keep thinking about that big spider thing in Wild Wild West.

The Black Swallower. It can actually swallow fish larger than itself! That rivals my ability to drink one million beers without peeing. 

The Alfonsino. His eye you see here IS actually his eye, not like Guitarfish. There's hardly any light where he lives, so his eyes are huge to allow all the possible light in. I love seeing animals adapt! 

This thing is called a coelacanth, which isn't as cool sounding as the other names, but it's one of the oldest living fish in the world and is considered a living fossil. RESPECT. People had thought they were extinct 65 million years ago, but then a fisherman caught one in 1938 and then they've been popping up all over the place. I think someone once told me this is where dolphins come from. Sure, I can buy that.

This guy isn't part of the exhibit, and he doesn't live in the ocean depths of course, but he was just discovered in the "mist-shrouded Foja mountains of Indonesian New Guinea". So, Welcome, Long-Nosed Tree Frog! Pleased to meet you! Now I know where Cyril Sneer came from.

I love the Raccoons.

Don't Run With Scissors Aardvark! (Drawings by Jason Sweeney from "i am your canadian boyfriend")

How great are these? (from Jason Sweeney at i am your canadian boyfriend)

Also, you really should keep the pointy ends in your hands, and not the handles (confusing, right?). But this way you don't stab a classmate.

Did you know wombats like to live alone? I could never be a wombat - I'd be too bored and no one would do my laundry for me.

 I wish! Then I wouldn't be so frightened of seeing you in the woods. We could just chill out and play mario kart together and steal honey from the bees.

Me too! Although a lot of it is really very complicated and takes a lot of pretending because a lot of things science talks about you don't actually see with your eyes, like atoms and protons and junk. That's why I'm thinking of buying this microscope. 

How perfectly strange. I don't think I believe this one. I think they dream of a time where they won't always be described as "hungry, hungry". 

Word up! I swear I drink so much sometimes just because I'm thirsty! That is pretty much the only reason I drink a million beers - thirst. 

Hahahaha - muskoxen being online pirates! I don't think I know how to either (properly) as I still haven't gotten rid of the virus on my last laptop. I just bought a cheap new laptop instead and ignored the problem. And guess what! Problem solved!

I don't know my birds AT ALL, except in grade two when I memorized and could identify 50 different kinds just to receive some prize. I don't even remember what the prize was, and I probably don't remember any of the birds. I just call little birds chickadees and medium birds chickens and the big ones emus. No one knows the difference. And whatever, weren't they all dinosaurs before anyways? Or was it the birds that turned into dinosaurs? One of those things came from the other one anyways.

Oh look, an emu.

WORD. UP. PANDA BEAR! I am so with you. I have the dark circles around my eyes too, but they don't look as cute. And what is up with people always saying "you look tired". What jerks!

Another example of the bird-dinosaur mystery! Notice how this large bird/thing also looks a little like a chicken.

TRUE. Except there can be animal robots, or robot animals. I forget how that goes. It's probably scary though, and from Japan. It could also just be a virtual pet Tamagatchi thing. I'm no scientist!

Well, they have been getting clubbed to death for years now. That's got to take it's toll, emotionally. And well, physically too of course. To that I say: Give Peace a Chance

 I saw two tortoises doing it at the zoo once. We took photos.

WHA? I cannot even FATHOM the concept of hating cilantro. It is almost disgustingly delicious and fresh, and lime and cilantro make the cheapest salsa taste like heaven. Add one million coronas and you have a healthy delicious meal.

It's probably because of their moustache. Moustaches are so IN right now, except they can also be chastised a little for being too trendy and ironic (I never really understood how moustaches were ironic). I like walruses because they seem like they were a huge evolutionary mistake, with their moustache and tusks and pinniped fin/tail that looks like it's really some sort of deformation, but they just work it. I have a soft spot for hopeless large mammals because I see so much of myself in them. 

In conclusion, what excellent drawings and creative captions! I'm jealous of people that can draw because anything I ever do looks lopsided and loopy, and I don't know if I believe a drawing class could teach me how to draw properly. Drawing is so hard. I don't like challenges.

Productivity? BAH!

Lately I feel as though I'm really lacking time in my life. Although, this really isn't true, as I've still managed to keep up to date with some really terrible television. I don't get how people are so goddamn high functioning all the time! They have jobs, children, shops, social lives... they go to gyms, cocktail parties, and picnics... they collect butterflies, compliments, and university degrees. I do none of those things and I still have no time for anything.

Oh wait a minute! I spend time on YOU, you blasted internet! I look at so many of your pages everyday, and I look at GREAT things, like this (awesome 80's bike ad) and this (Die Antwoord Enter the Ninja). I think about doing this (making a lamp out of a sea urchin shell), but then of course I don't, due to my sloth. Sometimes, well most of the time, I really think I'd be the sort of person to thrive in prison. I wouldn't snack or drink as much, and I'd exercise and read more. Maybe I could even be a part of this nifty gang and take up needlepoint. There's probably so much to do in prison, isn't there? If Martha ends up in prison again, I think it would be worth it to try to get in, learn some crafts and insider trading.

I like being inspired by you, internet, and one day maybe I'll feel inspired enough to, you know, do something. For now, I'll continue watching the ridiculous cast of the Hills on the idiot box. I bet if I could paint, I would paint something like this: (no, I wouldn't probably)

Funny enough, I am actually off right now for beach volleyball, beers, and burrito night. Prett-ty, prett-ty, prett-ty good trio (thanks Larry David for making that word fun to say!)

My Friday Funny

This makes me laugh every time. It is so predictable, so consistent, so perfectly Winnipeg (where I grew up). I went to elementary school with this girl that comments EVERY Friday about having a beer. Every. single. Friday. It's hilarious. Here's a little sampling of the last few.:

"having a cold beer just got off work now outside with my kiddies"
"im drunk went to meet mommy at the spike had some drinks and palyed vlts after work i love fridays"
"going to bed and im drunk and have to be up early for work"
"is sitting around getting drunk lol no work this weekend"
"Another nice day out sitting in my back yard all ready sun burnt i love it just need some beers to go with that"

Pretty great, right? It just sort of cements it in my mind that it's Friday, whenever I read her comments about beers. Winnipeg is a little strange... so I'll leave with some images from Guy Maddin's wonderfully confusing and awkward film My Winnipeg. Sure, I didn't really understand at ANY point what the hell was going on, and yes I may have almost fallen asleep at one point, but it was still really pretty to look at the eerie imagery.

Old lady, I may be climbing outside your window, but YOU still confuse ME

Heh? Boy, whatcha doing on the building? Are we upside down? Don't I have lovely old granny hair?

We've come to fix the toilet. Wait, we have hockey sticks, what?

Yes, come towards me. I'm not a dead person even though everything is glowing and blurry. See, we have a television... normal, right?

Just going out for a little stroll amongst the frozen horse heads...

Strange, strange movie made by a strange, strange man.

An Imaginary Story (With Matte Stephens Illustrations)

I was bored, so I thought I'd used these beautiful illustrations (all from his etsy shop, but check out his blog too) to make up a little silly story. DON'T JUDGE ME!

It was fall, and I was in the city. THE city. No one would notice me there. I had some trouble with some fat cats, you know, and I had to lay low for awhile.

I walked around with my bird, smoking my pipe and looking all dapper. My bird would say "chirp chirp" and I would agree. I strolled along with my cane and nodded at the families in the park as I strolled. Just all laid back like. But then I saw them, and they saw me!

Those are the ones! That family of cats would ruin everything for me. Maybe it wasn't them, maybe there was just something brewing that night to get me into this mess, maybe it's the BLASTED city, I don't know. But it was something. And it was real. Oh boy, it was real.

On the other side of town, THIS town, people were talking and stirring and muttering and rambling. The excitement of the evening was in everyone's bones, like they knew it was to be the night of my downfall! They knew all right! Look at them canoodling with that cat with his sly smirk on his puss, probably badmouthing my moustache they are! 

So there we are, me and the family of cats, next to the seals in the park. There's some others there too, but they're really not important to the story. Maybe some call them "witnesses", but not me! "Accomplices" maybe, "Annoyances" definitely... but witnesses most certainly not.

Look at him! He can't even see the seal right in front of him balancing a ball AND an umbrella (he either has his eyes closed or is looking at a fish, I need to adjust my monocle to discern for certain).

So, right. It was me and the family of cats, by the seals in the park. Me and my bird were chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool, watching some seals right next to the pool. When a couple of cats (they were up to no good!) starting making trouble in the neighbourhood. 

That's when that shady little tabby cat took a swipe at my feathered companion, and he got him! By jove, he got him! With one fell swoop, my twittering friend was gone and I would no longer be able to enjoy his incessant tweets.

 Boy, I was sad... like real sad. So I got in my car. I just had to drive around looking for answers, some sort of explanation to this INJUSTICE. So I put on some Pink Floyd and just really listened to it, you know? I can't believe he was gone, the little bird that sat on my shoulder. Shine on, you crazy diamond. Wish you were here. It all made sense.

I ended up down at the docks, looking over the city, where all mourning loners end up. The dregs of society, and I was joining their ranks. I knew it was a slippery slope before I ended up on skid row, and brother, that is not a place a dapper fellow like myself is destined for. That's just not my style. I can't be strutting down by the docks holding my radio listening to the tunes cranked with my big crack eyes glaring. Like that guy...

 No sir, I won't join this fellow. I can get out of this mess, surely I can! 

So I got back into my car with the radio turned OFF, to be aware of my surroundings, my thoughts my very own breath. I was on a mission. I would strike while the iron was hot and my blood was cold with revenge but also boiling with a very intense and specific rage. It makes the temperature of the story seem a little luke warm, but it was red hot... and also icy cold. It was that strange of a night.

I ended up outside the home of the family of cats. They were sitting there, like ducks. I didn't think, I just ACTED. I took out my slingshot and looked into their strange soulful eyes one by one as I pegged them off. Poof! Piff! Splat! Plunk! Each between the eyes until their eyes were only X's. The only one to remain was that tabby and his crooked bow tie! He deserved it most of all. I closed my eyes and released the rubber band......

 I never did see the grenade he had in his hand. I didn't feel anything, I just sort of  went I suppose. These kind birds above came to my funeral, which was a quiet, solemn sort of affair. The speech my rascal brother gave was absurd and rude, and there were too many ugly people there. The canapes were nice.

So that, dear readers, is the story of how I, Mr. Curiosity, killed the cats. 

(The portrait above is of us from the year before when they were having a sale on portraits in the mall. I bet that's when the family of cats got there portrait on the couch done too. It was such a good sale. The mall in Sheffield.)

The End

Note: the lovely gentleman in the story is actually called Sir Melvin Habadasher which is a very nice name indeed. You can look at him and even BUY him here

Whiting & Davis

I've gone a little nuts with these Whiting & Davis purses. I love them and all their meshy glory! Although I have nothing as beautiful as the ones here obviously (I don't really have my life together and, you know, AMBITION), I will be adding a few purses to my etsy shop Poppybrew  soon...

But these are lovely to look at....

1920's Art Deco Whiting & Davis

Whiting & Davis Charlie Chaplin Mesh Purse

Striped Mesh Purse

Clark Gable Whiting & Davis