RubberNun

2001-12-30T12:07:00.000-08:00

It's official -- my Blogger days are over. But don't cry, because now RubberNun.net is all blogged up with Greymatter. Photos! Links! Daily updates!

See you there!

2001-12-29T12:52:00.000-08:00

Hang on to your wimples, kids, because Mr. Jimmie spent some time this morning designing a shiny new RubberNun page. It's gonna be so cool!

2001-12-29T12:51:00.000-08:00

God picked the president. Now you know who to blame.

2001-12-29T06:48:00.000-08:00

Mornin'. I had a dream I was flying around a big backyard, with the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair. Which was feathered, for some reason.

2001-12-28T13:17:00.000-08:00

I forgot to post this before. Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus!

Actual Quote: While Santa puts gifts under your tree ...JESUS became our gift and died on the tree, For you & for me.

2001-12-28T12:46:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am that bored. Fuckin' lemons.

2001-12-28T11:28:00.000-08:00

Yet another reason why you should get your news from non-US media, at least some of the time. "Man of the Year," my ass.

2001-12-28T11:10:00.000-08:00

I am bored at work, and I am stuck for a headline, so I did what any self-respecting journalist with time to kill would do: fun with Google!

Of course, I've Googled myself a million times before. But this is the first time this particular nugget has appeared. I think it's by far the freakiest thing I've seen on the Internet with my name in it. And such awful writing! A relevant tidbit: "He understood that he had been both too scared and too lazy to say anything to Ms. Amy Carlton, the beautiful brunette he had always likened to a slightly sexier Dana Delaney." Great googly-moogly!

And, really, is there such a thing as a "slightly sexier Dana Delaney"?

2001-12-28T07:03:00.000-08:00

You are what you eat, but what are you eating? Surprise: Morningstar Farms meat analogs (including their stellar corn dogs) may be vegetarian, but they contain nasty GMOs. Bleah. So does Coke -- one more reason to get that bubbly brown monkey off my back.

Oh, and ew.

2001-12-28T06:47:00.000-08:00

Prepare to shudder violently.

thanks again to malisa.org. they have some kick-ass links, those kids

2001-12-28T06:42:00.000-08:00

Who owns your ass?

thanks for the link

2001-12-28T06:31:00.000-08:00

More bad times for free speech. And another reason to see "The Royal Tenenbaums" -- support Danny Glover!

2001-12-28T04:26:00.000-08:00

Cool.

Take the Which Beatle Are You? Quiz.

2001-12-27T06:14:00.000-08:00

My advice to you: Go see "The Royal Tenenbaums." It is so very good.

2001-12-23T08:17:00.000-08:00

You know all and see all, but that doesn't prevent you from having a child-like innocence and a playful sense of humor. You obviously think very highly of yourself, but that's okay, everyone does. Told ya God was a woman!!

Take The "Which Kevin Smith Female Are You?" Quiz!!

OK, first try -- I only wish God was someone not nearly as lame as Alanis Morrissette.

You're a very open and adventurous person, you've been around the block and back several times. Yet, as all people do, you realize that this life style cannot go on forever and need to settle down. Hopefully as more time progresses you'll stick to one gender and not be so greedy!

Take The "Which Kevin Smith Female Are You?" Quiz!!

Ahh, that's better.

2001-12-20T15:15:00.000-08:00

In other news, I would like it to be known that Mr. Jimmie is the best boyfriend ever. Nun porn for x-mas. I love that man!

2001-12-20T14:48:00.000-08:00

Who would steal Mary for drug money?!?! What kind of drugs can you get with a concrete virgin?

2001-12-19T12:21:00.000-08:00

Let me start out with a basket of chips.

"As some people wring their hands about the invasion of privacy and civil liberty, a whole other generation is going to go, 'Cool! I've always wanted to embed technology in my body'..." Saffo said.

2001-12-18T10:39:00.000-08:00

Just in case you still haven't gotten my present...

2001-12-18T08:39:00.000-08:00

A christmas story from our beloved "president." (Audio manipulation by my genius boyfriend, Mr. Jimmie.)

2001-12-17T12:31:00.000-08:00

The Eighties Pop Act Test deems me:

95% Eighties Pop Act

You are Poison: You probably did a lot of cocaine and drank a lot during the 80s, and are now in recovery. Watch some Facts Of Life reruns and have a Wine Cooler.

It's so true, it's eerie.

2001-12-17T07:31:00.000-08:00

The 2001 P.U.-litzer Prizes. No surprises there.

2001-12-17T07:04:00.000-08:00

[insert hot lips joke here]

2001-12-17T06:58:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, there was "Birthday boweling" with the Phineas. A good time was had by all.

Usually, bowling involves breakfast at Victory's Banner at a reasonable hour like 9 or 10, then throwing a few games at Marigold Lanes before lunchtime, and before the place is overrun with children's birthday parties and league bowlers and whatall. And before the bar opens and the bar jukebox spews forth horrible things like "What's Up" by 4 Non Blondes. Hey-yay-yay-yay, the humanity!

These other friends of Phineas, however. Well, I just don't know what to do with people who can't bowl before 3pm!

So at 3:30 or so, 9 of us rented shoes (except for those freaks who already own their own boweling shoes), chose brightly colored balls and selected a variety of pseudonyms for the games.

First game: philosophers (I played as George W. Bush's favorite philosopher [sic] Jesus Christ).

Second game: Frenchmen (I suggested this theme because I wanted to be Maurice Chevalier, but that bastid Phineas stole the name before I could take it, and he couldn't even prove he was Chevalier! If a nightingale could sing like you....Anyway, I ended up being honorary Frenchman Jerry Lewis. Surprisingly, no one picked Hervé Villechaize)

Third game: dead rock stars (I was George Harrison, of course)

Jim won two out of three games, because he is a boweling superstar. I broke 100 once, and I believe I beat Louisa all three times, which is all that matters. Mention must be made of Jin's super slo-mo bowling style, in which a barely thrown ball wanders lazily down the lane, gently coaxing the pins to the floor as if suggesting to them that they might be tired and want to take a nap. This technique works surprisingly well -- I believe she got strikes or spares in, like, 15 out of 20 frames. And Phineas had a freaky, domino-spiral strike that was a thing to behold.

More pictures here. And live-action Phineas boweling here.

2001-12-17T06:23:00.000-08:00

David Corn on Dubya's supposed newfound maturity and leadership qualities: "Before the attack, Bush believed that the tax cuts (for the well-to-do) fix all. After the attack, he believed tax cuts (for the well to do) fix all."

2001-12-14T07:33:00.000-08:00

I used to have hair like this. (Picture this hair in red, and a kelly green monogrammed crewneck sweater with a button-down oxford collar peeking out, and you've pretty much got my 6th grade class picture. My only defense is that my mother was still picking out my clothes. The hair, unfortunately, was all my idea.)

2001-12-13T12:21:00.000-08:00

Whoa. Them's some freaky-lookin' nuns.

Why are people hitting RubberNun when they google "13-14 porn"? This disturbs me greatly, but I'm not using the office computer to do that search. Just in case Ashcroft is watching. Because, really, how would I explain that?

2001-12-13T06:53:00.000-08:00

Better hope you don't end up on Ashcroft's enemies list.

The word "Kafkaesque" comes up a lot these days. Although, "Orwellian" works in a pinch.

2001-12-11T13:23:00.000-08:00

How do we know Bush is a "leader utterly comfortable in his role"? He changes his clothes! Not like that Bill Clinton, who wore the same shirt every day for eight years! (or something)

2001-12-11T12:24:00.000-08:00

The question is, why don't I have to get all snippy?

2001-12-11T10:18:00.000-08:00

Yes! Dick "Barney Fag" Armey is packing it in (no pun intended).

2001-12-10T11:20:00.000-08:00

Remember when we had a multibillion-dollar budget surplus? Yeah, that's totally fucked now.

Bush promised during the presidential campaign to avoid tapping Social Security except in cases of war, recession or a national emergency.

``Lucky me. I hit the trifecta,'' Bush told Daniels shortly after the Sept. 11 attacks, according to the budget director.

Oh, and ick.

He recalled the last time he was in Florida, on the morning of Sept. 11, and what went through his mind when the first plane hit New York's World Trade Center: ``I used to fly myself, and I said, 'Well, there's one terrible pilot.'''

There's yer compassionate conservatism, right there!

2001-12-10T10:37:00.000-08:00

A nice review of demented AG John Ashcroft's sickening performance before the Senate Judiciary Committee.

"Sen. Chuck Schumer was right to point out that the only part of the Constitution that seems to excite his sympathy is the Second Amendment. "

2001-12-07T12:51:00.000-08:00

Hey, if you live in any of these towns, don't forget to go protest your ass off for the first anniversary of The Day Democracy Died. Yes, it was a year ago next Wednesday that the Supreme Court just flat-out decided the votes of thousands of Floridians didn't fucking matter, and presented the Presidency like a shiny pony to that dumbfuck Bush, even though by their own reasoning they had no right to do it. But, hey, we're at war and dissent is no longer tolerated (not like before, right?) and bombs are good when we drop them and evildoers are evil and the best way to protect the American way of life is to destroy it at its foundations and sometimes I just fucking hate this country.

2001-12-06T13:38:00.000-08:00

Oh, I've been to Prague!

Well, I haven't "been to Prague" been to Prague, but I know that Prague "thing"!

2001-12-06T10:44:00.000-08:00

Oh, for fuck's sake!

Sample quote: "We've gone so far in the separation of church and state it's almost like Christians don't have rights anymore." Yes. Right. It's almost like that. Because thousands of Christians are being detained in prison for months without charges, or having their phones tapped, or being deported because of trumped-up immigration violations, or being sent letters asking them real nice to just come on down to their neighborhood law enforcement establishment for tea and scones and maybe a little chit-chat with Officer Friendly, or being shot to death in their stores because they look like Christians.

Thanks to Mark Morford's incomparable Morning Fix for the link!

2001-12-06T08:55:00.000-08:00

Oh, and if you're not already boycotting USA Today on general principle, you might want to start now -- the paper just fired three female sports editors/writers (with a combined 53 years of service to USAT and parent company Gannett) for "vandalizing" a $100,000 sculpture. And by "vandalizing," they mean "drawing 'Kilroy was here' in the dust with their fingertips." Really. Note: two male reporters at the paper got into a bloody fistfight in the elevator earlier this year and were allowed to keep their jobs. Also note: a paper that laid off a fuckload of people this year might have found better ways to spend $100,000 than on modern art sculptures for the executive suite.

2001-12-06T07:10:00.000-08:00

Buck up, though. Because this will be coming soon to a theater near you! Yes, following the grand tragi-comic tradition of Yahoo Serious, Paul Hogan and Jacko, that guy from "Crocodile Hunter" is getting his own movie. Will the deadly fauna of Australia never be allowed to nap in peace?

2001-12-06T06:57:00.000-08:00

"Corporate tax breaks, sweetheart deals, bailouts. How dare the special interests try to take advantage of one of the greatest tragedies in American history to line their own pockets? Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of workers are out of jobs since September 11th, or barely hanging on, and they can’t even get Congress to extend their unemployment benefits or help them keep their health care."

HowDareThey.org

2001-12-05T13:15:00.000-08:00

First, the bad news.

Now, the good news

2001-12-05T12:19:00.000-08:00

Networks Have Noses, Ears Cut Off

Panel Wanted in Brain -Study

Swank Wins Bad Sex Award

Hurley's Ex-Boyfriend Stops Bullet Trains in Afghanistan

Steenburgen Faces Up to Nazi Death Camp Past

Actual headlines bringing you down? Try the fake ones!

Christmas in Abortion Anthrax Hoaxes Arrested

'Smart' Bomb Writing Letter Home

No Place in Gabon for Fish With Patty Loveless

Over 1,000 Suicides Daily in the Balkans, Mariah Carey-Style

2001-12-04T11:41:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder why conservatives are so cranky? It's not lack of sex, surprisingly. (Hint: "Aaaah! Cobras!")

thanks to rubberduck (who proclaim about RubberNun "you crack me the fuck up") for the link.

2001-12-04T08:33:00.000-08:00

The search terms people use to reach RubberNun just tickle my ass with a feather. Among the nuggets are such understandable word combos as "nun fetish in hell" and "satan nun" and even the horrifying "amy carlton." But I wonder what the folks looking for "perky pink" and "pictures of sandwiches" might have been looking for when they stumbled upon the RubberNun site. And woe betide the unfortunate customers of Oak Park retro toy store Pumpkin Moon, who probably were looking for the latest in Betty Boop salt cellars and instead found this.

And why am I getting so many hits from this? First person to find out wins a cracker.

2001-12-03T10:02:00.000-08:00

Missile defense, Ed Wood-style!

2001-11-30T08:38:00.000-08:00

We interrupt this day of mourning to bring you a great fucking idea: PFLAG is striking back against the hideously anti-gay right-wing christian group The Salvation Army with buck slips you can slip into their wicked little red kettles. The slips say "I would have donated five dollars, BUT the Salvation Army's decision to discriminate against gay and lesbian employees prevents my donation now and in the future." I'm going to print up a million of them, and carry them in my pockets. Go, PFLAG!

2001-11-30T08:29:00.000-08:00

My mom just reminded me that my beloved Aunt Henry died 7 years ago today. So, it's a sad fucking day all around.

2001-11-30T07:20:00.000-08:00

Show him the shirts, Adrian! You'll like these. You'll really "dig" them. They're "fab" and all the other pimply hyperboles.

I wouldn't be seen dead in them. They're dead grotty.

Grotty?

Yeah. Grotesque.

(to Adrian) Make a note of that word and give it to Susan. (to George) It's rather touching, really. Here's this kid trying to give me his utterly valueless opinion when I know for a fact that within a month, he'll be suffering from a violent inferiority complex because he isn't wearing one of these nasty things. Of course they're grotty, you wretched nit! That's why they were designed! But that's what you'll want.

I won't.

You can be replaced, chickie-baby.

I don't care.

And that pose is out, too, sunny-jim. The new thing is to care passionately and be right-wing. Besides, if you don't cooperate, you won't get to meet Susan.

And who's this Susan, when she's at home?

Only Susan Canby, our resident teenager. You have to love her -- she's your symbol.

Oh, you mean that posh bird who gets everything wrong?

I beg your pardon!

Yeah, the lads frequently sit 'round the television and watch her for a giggle. Once we even sat down and wrote these letters saying how gear she was and all that rubbish.

She's a trend-setter. It's her profession.

She's a drag. A well-known drag. We turn the sound down on her and say rude things.

He's knocking the program's image. Get him out of here!

Have I said something amiss?

(From "A Hard Day's Night," all from memory, baby. How sad is that?)

2001-11-30T04:46:00.000-08:00

When I was 10, my mother woke me one morning with the words, "Amy, John Lennon's dead." Just like that -- like "Amy, you'll be late for school" or "Amy, it snowed last night." I jumped terrified out of bed and ran to the television to see on Good Morning America a body bag being wheeled out of the hospital, past a sea of flashbulbs and sobbing reporters, then went to school and teachers offered me their condolences. I was St. Benedict School's biggest Beatles fan, and believe you me, I took a lot of shit from the kids for it. For some reason, middle-schoolers are very intolerant of their peers' musical tastes. "Beatle freak" was a regular epithet (as if that was supposed to hurt me!). I was shunned for this. Really. People told me to my face that they wouldn't be friends with me because I liked the Beatles. Whenever I wore my John Lennon button to school, David Greenlees would point a finger-gun at it and yell "Target practice!"

Every year through high school, I wore black on December 8th, though by 11th grade or so I was wearing black pretty much all the time, so my remembrance often went unnoticed by others. But still.

I consider it a gold star on my character that I did not give in to peer pressure and start listening to the Oak Ridge Boys or J. Geils Band instead. Like all things iconic, the Beatles became more to me than they actually were. They loom large in my legend, as George Harrison (scripted by Alun Owen) might have said.

This morning, I felt the same plummet-rush of fear and sadness as the opening strains of "Something" played on All Things Considered. George Harrison -- the quiet Beatle, the snaggle-toothed Beatle, the Beatle Ann Fairbrother and I claimed as our favorite back in the day before 12/8/80 when everyone started picking John -- is dead. After throat cancer, lung cancer, a brain tumor and a near-fatal stabbing, he has died. Isn't it a pity? Isn't it a shame? He seemed like such a nice guy. Uncontroversial, private, holed up in Friar Park with his wife and kid, putting out the occasional album, staying out of the public eye.

Last night, strangely enough, I dreamed about John Lennon. I was working in a store, and he asked me to help him find videos of Roald Dahl books. He said "James and the Giant Peach" was his favorite, but I could only find "The Witches" on the shelf. He was young and sandy-haired and clearly not dead. Then he led us all in a singalong by the registers, but someone's harmony was way off, which made him laugh. I dream about him from time to time.

Now, I'm listening to All Things Must Pass and crying at 6:30 in the morning because I am still a Beatle freak and I'm sad.

2001-11-29T12:40:00.000-08:00

A play, involving christian clown-makeup rituals and the phrase "Who in the congregation can deflate pastor's glory bubble?" If you know what I'm saying.

A lot of these posts end up being about Jesus. I don't know why that is.

I bought a skirt today. It's nice.

2001-11-29T11:30:00.000-08:00

My friend Charlie got a blog. Blogs for everyone!

2001-11-29T06:53:00.000-08:00

If, out of curiosity, one types "Jesus flaps" into Google, one is directed to this, The Free Lutheran Association of Pilot Supporters. Apparently they use their flying skills ("I am not 'on a wire,' I'm flyin'!") to bring Jesus to people in a way that I don't quite understand. Maybe they drop bibles, fitted with tiny parachutes, down upon the heathens.

I'm not entirely sure what I expected to find by searching for "Jesus flaps" (some sort of hat, perhaps, or something for the wheel wells of a semi), but this'll do.

2001-11-29T06:29:00.000-08:00

Why can't everyone writing about the war be as smart as Molly Ivins? That's what I'd like to know.

2001-11-27T12:41:00.000-08:00

Just in case you weren't depressed enough about it, here's more proof that the wrong man is in the White House. Appalling, yet hardly a revelation at this point.

2001-11-26T13:07:00.000-08:00

This cartoon still rocks my world. If only the universe really worked this way.

OK, I really need to do some more work.

2001-11-26T08:32:00.000-08:00

Baby got a new computer. Computers are good. Especially shiny blue iMacs that go really fast and let baby burn CDs.

So, hey. I feel like I've been eating non-stop for weeks. Thanksgiving is the best holiday ever, in my opinion (except for that whole Pilgrim thing). Stuff Christmas, man! Christmas is for suckers. I hate it. Five consecutive "Christmas seasons" working in retail bookselling has permanently scrooge-ified me, and I don't give a damn. Christmas magically turns people into gaping assholes. And it's not that I hate "what Christmas has become," as the handwringer-types tend to put it, waxing nostalgic about some long-ago mythical holiday that wasn't just about the acquisition and distribution of Stuff. I don't even like what it used to be.

Spending quality time with loved ones? Fine. Exchanging year-end gifts with people who make you happy? Great. Celebrating the birth of our lord and savior Jesus Christ? Uh, not so much. Killing a healthy tree just to drag it into the living room, tart it up like a ten-dollar whore, then ditch it in the alley after two weeks, tawdry scraps of cheap tinsel still clinging to its dead, brittle arms? Thank you, no. Children hopped up on candied figs and wassail, screaming and running and tearing open packages like feral dingoes, revelling in the "magic of Christmas," which, you know, is really all about the children? Please kill me.

See? There's plenty of stuff to hate without even getting into the whole craptacular capitalist orgy of movie merchandising, animatronic yard displays, commemorative Coke bottles, compulsory and joyless gift-giving among office-mates, and snow-in-a-can.

And the music! My god! Is there such a thing as a good Christmas song? Or are they all divided into treacle-soaked overwrought ballads (roast this, Nat King Cole!), Jesus songs, and shrieking novelty records unfit for any non-toddler? Mark this: no song worth knowing contains the words "ring-ting-tingling." Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up fuck you.

2001-11-20T13:17:00.000-08:00

Turkey 1, Chimp 0.

2001-11-20T10:43:00.000-08:00

Christian rock -- it's just as bad for you as regular rock! Or so say some folks with way too much fucking time on their hands!

So, a bunch of dinguses who think Kurt Cobain is one of the worst anti-christs ever apparently have some sort of bug up their soul about Amy Grant, too. Plus, they have a charmingly stupid misinterpretation of "new-age-priestess" Joni Mitchell's song Big Yellow Taxi. Apparently all those years of huffing the peculiar smell of tissue-paper Bible pages have left them completely unable to recognize even the most obvious examples of satire. And don't even get me started on their unreliable-narrator blind spot!

Oh, and: 'I got news for dc Talk — "God is NOT gay!".'

2001-11-20T07:04:00.000-08:00

Take the Affliction Test Today!

2001-11-19T09:46:00.000-08:00

Another reason to fear the Mormons: look what they name their children!

You'll be happy to know that, if you're a boy named Iron-rod, you're "bubbling" and "happy-go-lucky" (though prone to weak ankles and reckless spending).

Girls named Christmas-holiday, on the other hand, have limited imaginations and good math skills. Christmas-holiday budgets her finances carefully, and thus would not make a suitable fourth wife for young Iron-rod.

2001-11-19T07:38:00.000-08:00

My new watch smells funny. That sharp, musty smell of old books. Not a bad smell for books, I guess, but not a good smell for me. Do you think it will go away eventually?

My fingers seem pudgy today.

2001-11-16T09:08:00.000-08:00

Wow. Go Economist!

2001-11-16T07:53:00.000-08:00

O, wondrous day! O, la! O, sunshine! Whilst stepping out of the subway this morning, I was handed an Actual Chick Tract! By an actual preacher-type individual! This may in fact be my first time. All other Chick Tracts in my possession (and there are many) were either:

-- found (on the ground, wedged between seats on the el, left behind in diner booths, etc.)
-- purchased (at Quimby's)
-- given to me by lucky friends who encountered their own preacher-type individuals madly flailing and frothing (or just smiling beatifically) on street corners and the like.

Chick Tracts are small, amazing, more-than-slightly discomfitting things. Jack Chick feverishly writes, illustrates and publishes these freaky things himself -- I'd always assumed he had some staff, but no. He's a missionary with a mission. He's been doing this for forty years! Forty! Four decades of gory little pocketsize cartoon books describing Chick's own, well, unique view of Christianity, without any regard for politics or even a semblance of inter-denominational tolerance. (Even a rabid nutball and catholic-basher like Jerry Falwell probably would not publicly refer to the "Holy Eucharist" as "the death cookie.")

And to show Chick's dedication to converting the "savages," tracts are translated into dozens of languages -- Bulgarian and Blue Hmong, Finnish and Farsi, Tatar, Telegu, Thai and Twi. No wonder people hate America.

The handout ones I've gotten over the years aren't nearly as demented as the tracts available online, alas. Here's one Ann Coulter would love.

So anyway, what I really wanted to say was this:

" I was saved after seeing tons of tracts laying all over Wal-Mart" (actual testimony on Chick.com.)

2001-11-15T12:31:00.000-08:00

Still experimenting with templates and links and such. Guh, I suck at this. And I need a haircut. Yep.

2001-11-15T07:28:00.000-08:00

OK, so, it looks like I got this thing to work. All by myself. Perhaps I'll fancy it up someday. Or add it to my site, even. Yes, that would be nice.

OK, gotta go. Gotta sleep with a freshman.

2001-11-15T07:25:00.000-08:00

Hi.