Archive for the 'AG Shenanigans' Category


Lo, did the Lord Cookie Jesus, filled with wrathful filling, look upon the Cloverhill Big Texas Honey Bun, and lo did the Lord thinketh that the pride of Cloverhill, the hubris of its bigness, the chemical nature of its Honey, the plastic of its Bun, and the Lord did smiteth out and smack the Cloverhill down. Lighting was hurled, and fires did it starteth, and rain did it pour, and trees did it toss about with willy nilly abandon.

25 minutes of insanity around 3 am Sunday morning took the form of sideways 3 inch and hour rainfall and 65 mph winds and some hail thrown in and then woke up to the emerging buzz of dozens of chainsaws removing limbs and entire trees from the sides of houses, and then read in the paper it was mostly just our neighborhood. Shape of the neighborhood or our house or happenstance saved us from the worst, but 70 foot oak just lying on a house like it was taking a nap, having uprooted and tipped over just down the block, was quite a sight. Fences halfway into the street. Large gravel rolled 50 yards down the street. Very impressive, Cookie Jesus!


………where am I?….
who am I?…
So dark in here. Let me just light the candle in this candlestick.
There. [looking around]
I see a painting with a jar of mustard holding a revolver.
Green bowl on the table with some lovely plums. I hope nobody eats them.
There’s a knife, I could cut one up for myself…
Off to the left, I can see, what is that? Oh, a white sink with lettuce in it.
It seems to be leaking. The pipes could use a twist with a wrench. I wonder if there is one of those around here?
[stands up] Uh, my head still spins when I try to stand. Scarlet speckles invade my peripheral vision, almost blacked out. [sits down again]
I should really stay away from the tequila, my head feels like it is stuffed with a peacock.
I have no idea how I got roped into this. [looks down]

OH MY GOD!!!!eleven111!!!iii!

WHO’S PANTS ARE THESE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Erring of Grievances

It has come to our attention that the void created by the semi-retirement of the ombudspersonmoose has yet not been filled, in spite of two valiant attempts.

It falls upon the shoulders of this ombudspersonpantaloons to take up the burden.

It must be noted that when Pinko Punko initially broadcast the need for an interim ombudspersonpantaloons, he specifically mentioned a complaint:

In other news, sucks it. Take it to the ombuds, lady, that’s what it’s for.

A reasonable person/moose/bird/fish/pants might argue Adorable Girlfriend‘s point…are there not thousands of 3Bulls! blogposts? Q.E.D., and such as.

Furthermore, it must be noted that we are taking a strict constructionalist view of the terms comment(s) and reader(s). Is AG actually a reader of this blog? Should comments mean comments on this post, this blog, or even perhaps something your mom said after her sister and brother-in-law left the house?

After all, the complaint in question comes from a comment over at the Fish Pond.

However, it is not our job to question user complaints. Our job is to render them senseless, or the other way.

Post all your complaints about this blog, your life, or your in-laws below, and we will promptly solve them via sternly worded emails to the proprietors.

And if none of this floats your boat…

UPDATE I: Hellooo, Fish’s comment!

UPDATE 3.c: A certain zombie has written that his/her/its/damned creature’s car needs washing. While this might be considered a comment on the state of affairs at the ZRM household/cemetery/catacombs, or perhaps a request, we are considering the source.

It’s probably a complaint. As such, we are suggesting that ZRM take it up with the Ombudsglooob, as this entity is best positioned to provide the appropriate remedy.

UPDATE 8): It appears our suggestion with regards to ZRM and the Ombudsglooob has gone awry. Far be it for us to suggest that threatening the common taters is different from addressing their concerns.

But we feel that an ombudsperson/moose/bird/fish/pants ethics panel must be convened at this point. For the sake of the children.

This Week In Trollypants


Everybody’s Talking




I confess





Underpants and Red Wine

So how did I spend my Saturday night while GFoH was away? Well I spent it watching YouTube videos in my underpants and drinking red wine! An unholy combination that is sure to excite nobody but me – in other words it’s perfect blog fodder!

My epiphany: Bjork is a genius, and the Sugar Cubes were fantastic! Lets face it she’s got charisma out the wazoo, she can sing sweetly and also like a banshee, she has fun fashion sense, and a fantastically over-the-top theatrical nature. I’ve always loved the Sugar Cubes but somehow I’ve managed to make it well into adulthood without ever seeing one of their videos.

Regina: I’ve never understood what this song was about but now after watching the video I’m even less sure. I am thinking about changing my name to Regina and pretending Bjork is singing about me. I love the way she trills the ‘R’ and basically she’s just adorable in this video, monobrow and all. When she emerges from Regina —-wowsers! Einar!!! I don’t really like lobster either!

Eat the Menu: Hey wait a second is that the same blue dress that she was wearing in the Regina video? No it’s different! Great shot of her tapping her feet. Full-on pixie hairdo. Incredibly powerful singer. It slays me every time I hear her sing “Have, have, have some salad”

Motorcrash: Motorcrash?!!!??? A proper motor crash! Bjork looks like she’s about 13 in this video. Her singing at about minute 1:40 is fantastic! Einar!!!!

Birthday Probably the Sugar Cube’s biggest hit so I guess that I’m not supposed to like it. Hipsters, I can’t help myself I love it! Special shout out to Plover with the “spiders in her pocket” line. That blue thing on her head and the red dress this time. The last minute, the messy hair (does anybody have more fun with hair than Bjork?), the hard singing, the sweet singing, the facial expressions….sigh…..!

Can’t Get No Satisfaction: With PJ Harvey! Double the hotness double the fun! This was a true battle for Gregor’s affection and the ladies went all out. Would it be Bjork’s button nose, cute hair and gorgeous teeth or PJ’s sultriness that would win? It wasn’t until I watched this that I realized what a tiny nose Bjork has. It’s really, really small. Another great but brief shot of Bjork’s shoes. As I’ve already hit on PJ Harvey in real life (true story!) and received the greatest most cherished rejection of my life, a rejection that wouldn’t stop me trying again mind you but a rejection nonetheless, it’s really the chance to be rejected by Bjork too that puts her over the top in this battle.

Bonus Pylon Video – No Rock and Roll This video make me happy because I love Pylon but sort of sad too. Vanessa is so cool and she works in a copy shop? There’s some later Pylon videos on the YouTubes, apparently they did reunite, and they’ve still got it! There’s also some earlier stuff as well, also cool. Basically I just miss music like this.

When 3Bulls! Imitates Life

It’s been grand reliving all of my childhood injuries as an adult. Skinned knees and hands, fat lips, bloody noses…..but this time with alcohol!! I’m not looking forward to the severed finger, broken bones and head trauma though.


12 Letter Word For Empty?


Down Across
1. Antelope 2. Tarpan
3. Baboon 6. Okapi
4. Cotamundi 10. Jerboa
5. Deer 12. Ibez
7. Emu 14. Penguin
8. Shenanigan 15. Hartebeest
9. Lemming 18. Quail
11. Raccoon 19. Moose
13. Unicorn 20. Ferret
16. Warthog
17. Yak

ANSWERS BELOW THE FOLD NO PEEKING!!!! Continue reading ’12 Letter Word For Empty?’

blood and fire \

Really the romance of alcoholism is underrated, I understand that nobody wants to hear my drug addled ramblings about bonsai manta rays but really what could be more interesting or entertaining than the ramblings of your neighborhood drunk especially if s/he has an interesting tale a tale of intrigue and perhaps woe, a tail of the dog or a tale of happiness but never a tale of shame because the universal implication is that alcohol is what unites sober with the drunk, this is why I’ve managed to fall off my bicycle twice this weekend and my hand is skinned to shreds and my elbows are not much better and as age increases so does the pain the pain of skinning and lack of skin, is it the realization that living for the moment is the most liberating concept ever the future be damned, except in the most collective of senses, that’s what it has come to, looking over the sea and seeing the sea and seizing the sea of apologies to Patti Smith who rocks eternally and why is there lavender in my pocket picked from plants along the way home sweet sweet lavender sweet sweet home, where the heart is, looking over the sea and the boats and the ferries, smelling the smoke of premature fires (yet too warm), fires of comfort, fires of hypnosis, fires of nostalgia, fires of blood and fire, and reggae, blood from my hand, and I can’t explain the hominess of it all from the terraces, the moon slung low and life going on and the pups and cats curled up zzzzing away and their consorts curled or up resting and enjoying, music dominates, art overwhelms, and the scene is seen, what does it all mean(?) incidental capital A bottle of cheap red wine has begat all of this and it is time to get you into my life I want to stay there ooooh and I suddenly see you, really what more is there but the stories that define and perhaps defame, the poetry of which leads to destinations unknown, Bennie with the quarter behind his ear and the Kennedy conspiracies, RIP, and stars which I have seen which I thought were concepts of injury and cartoons floating circular like about my head but there they were in glory.