It is truly a good thing we don’t have cable, otherwise I wouldn’t get anything done.

Okay, so Mojo won the first skirmish in our little war. Not only did he land on the couch while I was working out, but he grabbed (Read the rest of “Monday Morning Mojo No. 36: The Couch Wars”)

I was chatting idly during swim practice, confident in the knowledge that 8 happy weeks separate me from that food concession I have to run for the swim team… when some awful news crashed down on me from out of a foggy, gray sky:

JANE (SWIM MEET COORDINATOR/RECRUITER):

Bonnie, word around the pool is you think you’re planning the XYZ Meet. You’re not. I signed you up for the PDQ Meet.

Aaack! The PDQ Meet is only THREE FOUR* WEEKS AWAY.

At that moment, my heart tried to claw its way out of my chest so it could scratch my eyes out. As I struggled to save my vision, I thought desperately of someone—something—I could blame and still retain a little credibility.

Hubby? George Bush? Global warming? The gypsies?

(Actually, gypsies were the last things in my mind at that moment. I’m just hoping mentioning them in this post will qualify me for the contest at Balls and Walnuts.)

What I ended up saying to Jane was brilliant, though, if I do say so myself.

BONNIE: I knew that.

Now I’ve got to put together a food concession in an impossibly short time. So, um… would any of you be willing to work a snack bar for me? Nothing overwhelming—just a three-hour shift here and there… whadaya say, hunh?

No need to decide now. Think it over (and think about gypsies while you’re at it, too, okay?)

Today’s Super Sabado contains (Read the rest of “Super Sabado: those damn gypsies”)

Remember the original “Take on Me” music video?

Sung by the Norwegan band A-ha, it tells the story of a girl who gets pulled into her comic book by the winner of the comic’s motorcycle race. They have a lovely time flicking back and forth between animation and live action until the race’s loser comes after them with a wrench.

I first saw it on MTV in the 80s—way back when most of you were probably just little twinkies in your parents’ lunch boxes—and I thought it was awfully romantic. Recently I looked it up on YouTube to show it to Squirt and Tiger, and I found an assorted bunch of little parody/homage videos, some of them very clever in their own way.

Perhaps the most famous parody/homage is one done on the TV show Family Guy, where the character Chris gets pulled into the milk section of the supermarket.

There’s a clever snippet by engineering students at Purdue demonstrating how getting pulled into a locker room during finals might impact one’s GPA, and another one by DigitalCha0s.com where the pullee fights the puller, but once he lands in animation land he starts grooving like everybody else.

These were all right, but nothing like my absolute favorite by Mark Cannataro, where a guy gets pulled through a yearbook (the winner of a high school footrace is voted “most likely to get killed by a wrench”).

Not too great is the “Take on Me” remake by a boy band called A1 that brings The Matrix and Tron into the mix, but hey, eye candy is eye candy.

Ho hum.

Documenting 80s music videos and their spin offs is what I do when I have a huge project like a swim meet food concession to plan.

TIGER: You want to die in your sleep? That’s stupid. I want to go with a bang. I mean seriously, when you’re in heaven and someone’s like, how did you die, and you’re like, I died in my sleep—that’s so lame.

I plan not to die, or to die in an accident involving noodles. I mean, how cool would that be?

Noodles, man. That’s the way to go.

Scary! Creepy! Too much movie-watching about little boys named Damien!

So. For today’s procrastination, we need something uplifting. Easy enough for doofuses like moi, yet definitely not 6-6-6-ish in any way, shape or form, unless it wants to tell you everything is gonna be okay—and if you want to have another cookie, just go ahead because you’ve been working out so hard you deserve it.

No, wait… that last bit is my diet talking.

Anyway… the answer is: (Read the rest of “06/06/06!”)

Since Mojo is down to his last bed, you’d think (Read the rest of “Monday Morning Mojo No. 35″)

I just spent a chunk of my morning trying to enable gravatars. Hopefully I’ve got them working now, but if you see any strangeness going on (outside of the usual Bonnie strangeness) then contact me ASAP!

If you aren’t sure what a gravatar is, it’s pretty cool. You sign up at Gravatar.com, using the e-mail you usually post comments with.

Then, if you comment at a site that has enabled gravatars, your avatar shows up in the comment section next to your comment. See here:

You Blogger people already have this option for all comments made at Blogger, but there’s a whole world of non-Blogger sites that won’t accept your Blogger avatar. Gravatar.com offers you a free and easy way to get your mugshot out there in the real world!

On my site, if you haven’t registered for a gravatar, this picture will show up:

I had a few problems getting the few gravatar plugins I tried to work: activating any of them caused my entire site to throw up an error message. But this Gravatars2 plugin took off running right away, no fuss, no muss.

Also, there’s a waiting process when you sign up for a gravatar, during which Gravatar.com “rates” your gravatar (PG, R, X, etc.), so be patient. My application took two days or so to be rated.

It’s prom night at the high school, and the streets are crawling with limos. Just think, a large number of our local youth are under the care of anonymous drivers for the minimum limo rental of 8 hours!

Didi’s daughter—just a squeaky little five-year-old when I first laid eyes on her—looks like a goddess in her glamorous prom gown, what with the front of her skirt slit up to here, and her back plunging down to there, and lots of ventilation hither and thus…

As I complimented her on how pretty she looked, I remembered my own inadequate self at 17, and wondered how exactly 17 got so quickly replaced with forty-something. I also wondered how Didi’s daughter was actually going to SIT in that limo, considering the tricky engineering of her prom dress.

But there’s no time for chit chat! On to today’s Super Late Super Sabado! (Read the rest of “Super Late Super Sabado: Prom Night”)

Whew! I’ve been running around like the proverbial headless chicken, only it turns out headless chickens aren’t proverbial, they’re DOCUMENTED. In one case, a headless chicken named Mike survived long enough to run around sans su cabeza for over a year.

Who knew?

On behalf of all headless chickens out there, please accept my apologies for trivializing your personal experience.

At any rate, I have a feeling Mike the Headless Chicken fulfilled his obligations better than I’ve done lately. I can barely get out coherent sentences, much less decent blog posts. Thank goodness for fake movie preview videos like the one below. I can link to one and assuage my guilt, all in one smooth move.

Does anybody else think Yul Brynner is the major hunk of supreme male hotness that I think he is?