Winterize this!

In which your humble narrator tries to act like a local-born Minnesota person and muses freely on the topic of the weather. 

Now that I'm slowly emerging from the fog of Pie Day, Thanksgiving and Pie for Breakfast Day I can begin to fret about all the stuff that needs to be done to get ready for winter. Usually, this being Minnesota, Land of Frozen Tundra and passive-aggressive Scandinavians, we're all set for winter by Thanksgiving because November is a winter month (and so is April most of the time). Fortunately it's a well established fact that cold weather is highly correlated with moral fiber and excellent character. This is why the upper Midwest is awesome and Florida is a hell hole of moral weakness and general turpitude.

But this year, despite the weird rash of accumulating snow in October, it's been unseasonably warm, leading to all sorts of licentiousness, gluttony and sloth the likes of which we rarely see in the frigid north. So I haven't got the insulation I bought stuffed into the appropriate crevices in the attic, nor have I put cling film on the upstairs windows. We were all excited when we bought our house because it had replacement windows. Then we moved in. And now we know that we have the absolute worst replacement windows in the history of windowdom. They are shite. Especially because the cheap bastards that put them in cut costs by only putting single-pane windows in upstairs... which has only one heat vent... strategically located in the bathroom... in the shower. I like a cold bedroom, so it's not too big of a deal most of the time. However, I hate having to wipe the windows off every day after we shower (no exhaust vent either). So I've got to do the window film thing upstairs which means that I have to find the hair dryer that a friend of ours left at our old condo two years ago.

Also I still haven't raked the leaves in the back yard. They came off of the neighbor's tree so I'm afraid it might be socialistic if I raked them for him. Glenn Beck's website doesn't seem to offer any guidance on the issue.

So I've got a ton of crap to do all of which I'll start as soon as I get my butt off the couch. I predict that will occur sometime tomorrow.

Happy Pie Day, America

In which your humble narrator discusses the familial tradition known as "Pie Day."

It's Pie Day again. As I write, Wife and I have completed 7 pies with one in the oven and one yet to go. Each year, on the Wednesday that precedes Thanksgiving, we gather together to celebrate the making and baking of many pies twinned with a nod to those Puritan jerks by practicing discipline and self denial by not eating any of the pie until tomorrow. That way, we can experience true gratitude.

This year we're skipping the self-denial part because my Grandma's here and she gets crabby about waiting.

To help you initiate your own family tradition which explores the dualism of abundance and scarcity in a context rich with Americana, follow these simple steps:

• Step One: Take the Day off work (natch)
• Step Two: Plan your Pies and write down your schedule
• Step Three: Follow the rules of Pie Day

1. Don't talk about Pie Day
2. Don't talk about Pie Day
3. There are no rules
4. Make your own crusts, you lazy piece of #%@!
   
5. Make sure to make more pies than there are people expected at Thanksgiving. To achieve the proper sense of abundance, at least 1.5 pies/guest is recommended.
   

Mailbag Monday

In which your humble narrator responds to life's most pressing conundrums, even if they are invented.

Here at Rotten Baby Omnicorp Media-Mania, Inc., LLC, Ph.D., DDS, we view our service to all three of our readers as a sacred trust, and as such we have set aside today to answer some of the pressing questions that have been flooding our (imaginary) inbox. Today, gentle readers, we will answer the mail.

Dear Rotten Baby,
I am new parent and I am sick to death of all of the advice that complete strangers give me regarding my infant (human) child. I have read all of the popular child rearing books and have become convinced that I had better just muddle through as best I can and figure things out on my own. Yet, old ladies constantly stop me in the grocery store and give me conflicting, weird advice about childcare while admonishing me for everything that I am supposedly doing wrong. My question is, may I hit them with a brick?
                                          -Peeved Parent in Peoria

Dear Triple P,
No you may not hit them with bricks. That is an easily adjudicated case of assault. Since this happens in the grocery store, I suggest a 3-5 lb. bag of citrus fruit. It'll hurt like hell and leave no incriminating marks or bruises. I prefer Valencia Oranges, but you may wish to try several varieties of citrus fruits and make your own decision.

Dear Rotten Baby,
Long time reader, first time (imaginary) email writer. I am hosting Thanksgiving for my family on Thursday. This is the first year that my mother has not been hostess and I am nervous about living up to her standards. Any tips?
                                          -Nervous Hostess in Vancouver
Dear Nervess,
I hope to hell that you're in Vancouver in Washington State and not in British Columbia. Otherwise you are up embarrassment creek without a paddle of everlasting shame. You see, Nervess, The Canadians get their thank on in October. So if you're a Canadian, that ship has already sailed. If you're not Canadian and you want to keep your overbearing mother in her place, prepare nothing but side dishes and then ask her where the hell the turkey is when she arrives. Persevere in this little fib all evening, heaping subtle guilt on her at every turn. She'll be too flabbergasted to judge you.

Dear Rotten Baby,
I get the distinct impression that you're writing these letters to yourself because you can't think of anything else to write about today.

                                          -Suspicious Salvatore in San Antonio
Dear Sal,
You are so dumb it makes my teeth hurt. If there was a Church of Stupid, you would be the Pope. We're writing these letters because people love advice columns and we are convinced that this will send our site traffic soaring to add the demographically crucial Filipinio, trangendered, chicken-farming, Buddhist, fourth reader.

That wraps up this edition of 'Mailbag Monday," boys and girls. To have your queries, imaginary or otherwise answered, send an email to:
rotten.baby.blog (at) gmail (dot) com.

Yes you can! (But you shouldn't!)

In which your humble narrator discusses ideas that are not-so-good.

Exhibit A: d'Armond Speers - A linguist (good! We love linguists because your humble narrator is one... sort of.) who decided it would be a super-fun experiment to only speak Klingon (!) to his infant son until he was 3. Because, really, who doesn't want to use their children as free experimental subjects?

It think this falls into the category of "Things you can do, but shouldn't." Things like:

• Speak only Klingon to your infant child
• Decide to never cut your fingernails again
• Buy a house that you cannot afford
• Accept free drinks from a guy with an eye-patch named "Slash"
  
• Vote Republican
• Eat at Arby's
• Ask Amy Winehouse to baby-sit your children
  

Good old Teddy Roosevelt said, "Order without liberty and liberty without order are equally destructive." I don't know the translation into Klingon.

It's Thursday, so that must mean I hate things

In which your humble narrator tallies five hated things.

1. The "environmentally friendly" detergent at Costco that proudly proclaims its greeny-goodness but only mentions its "lavender fragrance" in extremely light, 8-point font. All of my clothes smell like old lady.
2. Living down-wind of a down-scale apartment complex from whence much trash blows into my yard. Did you know that Frito-Lay is still manufacturing Funyuns? I didn't until we moved to this house. I thought they had gone the way of the Dodo, betamax and fluffy chest hair.
3. The media omni-presence of Sarah Palin. Congratulations, conservatives. You've found a right-winger as annoying as Susan Sarandon. I suspect if they ever meet, the universe will collapse into an inky-black hole of self-righteous incoherence.
4. The invention of medical-themed daytime television. Please see "The Doctors" and "Dr. Oz." My prescription? Cancellation.
5. People who have blogs about "maintaining a simple life." 
• Step One: stop blogging. See? Simpler already.
  

Finally! Somebody made a smart phone that will raise my kid!

In which your humble narrator directs your interwebular attention toward a grand spectacle of idiocy.

At last! I no longer have to go to all the trouble of trying to figure out non-verbal, enigmatic, semi-screamy Child #2's wants and needs. All I have to do is buy an iPhone and this killer app!

Now Child #2 can cry at my new iPhone and I will instantaneously know what her problem is. If this works I may not have to even look at her for another 4-6 months! It's even better than an illegal Guatemalan nanny because this way I get an iPhone!

Hooray for technology!

Fun with Google Auto-Complete

In which your humble narrator encourages "the Googles" to do ridiculous things with very little prompting.

Astute observers of the interwebs who use "the Googles" on a regular basis will be familiar with the relatively new auto-complete search feature which gives us a whole bunch of supposedly relevant options to choose after entering just a letter or two. Here are a few of my favorite auto-complete options.

"I" with a space after it reveals the option:

• "i like to tape my thumbs to my hands to see what it would be like to be a dinosaur"

"Why" offers this triumvirate of philosophical inquiry:

• Why do men have nipples?
• Why is the sky blue?
• Why is my poop green?

"be a" offers you the insanely optimistic option to:

• Be a perfect person in just three days!

"You make" obviously gives us:

• You make me touch your hands for stupid reasons.

And because I'm immature, "farts" produces the painfully underpunctuated:

• Farts you just can't trust them
  

You certainly can't.