Bunking It

I had a conversation with a few people about bunk beds today, and it got me thinking about them. As a kid, they seem really great, until you're sick of sharing your damn room with your sister who farts in her sleep ON THE TOP BUNK. As an adult, I had roommates who got the fancy to free up apartment space by going bunk...and that bunk bed was out on the street within a week. In a catalog world, its a utopia of compact living. In real life, we only put up with it if we're little and our parents have a lot of kids or few rooms.

But part of me wants to buy one of these little gems I googled, just for myself. If I ever end up in a studio apartment....look out, here comes bunk bed house! I'll be eating my breakfast on a bottom bunk!

Behold the bunk glory...



My childhood bunk bed was from the seventies. This one is from the AWESOME. I'm serious, if I lived alone, and it was between this and a nice grown-up bedroom set...no competition. You know how the first time you bring a guy home, you're all awkward? You give them "the tour" and excuse the mess, hoping they're not digusted, or changing their mind. Those worries? GONE. He'll stay over just to pretend he's a pirate on your top bunk. And yes, I know that sounds dirty.

I just keep dreaming of how great every day would be if I woke up in this amazing creation. Someday....



My last bed once floated atop the seas. This one lives beneath the sea. I think there's a curtain across that porthole at the end of the bottom bunk, which I like, but otherwise, it seems a little claustrophobic. I'm intrigued by the desk-thing covered with little soccer players bottom left. Where's the soccer-player bunk bed? Goooooal!



I put this one in here to demonstrate how boring sleeping arrangements will be for children in the future. Sleepover? Yawwn.



I LOVEloveLOVE this one. However, unlike my first example, this would send anyone you bring home screaming for the door before you had a chance to introduce them to each of your stuffed animals. By name.



I would make a joke about this bed, but I just....can't...seem...to...see...it.



IT HURTS MY EYES. I bet the mattress is full of little metal ball-bearings and owl feathers. You know, for ART.

And I saved the best for last. Friend in from out of town? Sure, sleep on the couch! TWO friends in from out of town? No problem! Simply open the couch into...



A BUNK BED!

Final conclusion: Screw it, I'll live a chaste life in my cute and cozy dollhouse bed! I'll have my Disney movies to keep me company.

The Sexiest Song in the World

This is what I rock in my car these days. Who doesn't need a 1987 Casio DG-20 electric guitar now and then...set to... electric mandolin?

Horrible = Wonderful

As a Joss Whedon fan, you'd think I'd clue into this sooner, but I was just recently turned on to Neil Patrick Harris and Nathan Fillion. Who am I kidding, that's been going on for awhile, respectively. But this time, its the two of them, and its because of this...

Dr Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog!

If you've seen it, you're cool. If you haven't, then you should. If you have the soundtrack, you're Tosca and I want it. NOW.

Let California Ring!

I recently saw this commercial for a great organization...Let California Ring is dedicated to helping people understand the importance of supporting gay and lesbian marriage in California and the world. I spent vacation time as a child with my mother's good friend Julie and her partner and their daughter Jessica. I knew a man who died of AIDS when I was still young, another of my Mother's friends. When he died, his will and wishes were ignored. His family, who had rejected him decades earlier, arrived in town to claim the body. They weren't there to nurse him while he died. His partner of many years WAS. And that loving partner wasn't even allowed to attend the funeral. He had no rights legally to honor his loyal partner's dying wishes. If gay marriage were legal, this travesty wouldn't have happened.

I also recommend a documentary called For The Bible Tells Me So. It will really enlighten you, promise!



Let California Ring!

My Clone of Soy?

The Soy Joy nutrition bar (which I'm sure tastes of cardboard, like most foods in bar form, minus the various caramels, nougats, and chocolates in bar forms) has a commercial featuring a cartoon lady bobbing along through a park, discovering the joys of soy, jumping rope, and making out with random strangers. Sounds like the kind of things (minus the soy) that I would truly enjoy doing in a park on a summer day. Fictional animation or blatant imitation of me? You be the judge:

How Crazy is This?

Very crazy.

MY kind of awesome crazy. (Kudos to Urban Prankster for the link!)

Man On Wire
Published by Charlie Toddon August 1, 2008


Man on Wire is a new documentary currently in limited release about an amazing stunt that took place at the World Trade Center in 1974.

On August 7th 1974, a young Frenchman called Philippe Petit stepped out on a wire suspended between New York’s twin towers, then the world’s tallest buildings. After an hour dancing on the wire, with no safety net or harness, he was arrested and thrown into an underground prison. Until that moment no one but Petit and his team of accomplices, who had spent months planning their illegal ‘coup’ (as they referred to it amongst themselves) knew anything about it.

Born out of a dream and an idea, Petit and his team of accomplices spent eight months planning the execution of their ‘coup’ in the most intricate detail. Like a team of professional bank robbers planning their most ambitious heist, the tasks they faced seemed virtually insurmountable: they would have to find a way to bypass the WTC’s security; to smuggle the wire and rigging equipment into the towers; to suspend the wire between the two towers; to secure the wire at the correct tension to withstand the winds and the swaying of the buildings; to rig it secretly by night - all without being caught. Not to mention the walk itself…

If anyone was planning to buy me a REALLY AWESOME birthday present...

...I thought I might drop a HINT HINT HINT!

I would cry tears of big fat plastic 80's joy. Like, totally.