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June 29, 2005
we love Lucy
Hey its Marcel! Where can he be going in such a hurry??
can it be to see
a new canine friend??
Well I'll be! If it isn't
Lucy!!!!
p.s. The Knit-A-Log wishes to extend special thanks to John for all splendid dog photography!
*****And plus a debt of gratitude is owed a Bear for yet another coma-free month! Thank you!!!*****
Posted by pippypippy at 08:58 AM | Comments (2)
June 28, 2005
inspirational quotation
I came across this online today and I thought I would share~
The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart.
-- Iris Murdoch, The Red and the Green
Posted by pippypippy at 11:59 AM | Comments (1)
June 27, 2005
Pride! Or, Drunken Polyamorous Pansexuals Take Anti-Authoritarian Autonosexual Situationist For A Ride
Sunday morning the air was buzzing with anticipation, believe it!
I made my way to boys town (looking slightly boyish, maybe, although I'm told I can never be very butch with my skinny legs, drat!) to meet a certain Bear on Belmont. The Bear was there, hourah! And hungry, as bears can be. We snarfed breakfast quickly, slathered on the sunscreen and filled our water bottles and made for the parade! My Bear was marching with the ACLU, the ones who protect, among other things, your right to screw! Meanwhile I was looking around for the anarchist contingent. And lo, Fate conspired to bring me 2 drunken young men! One in a purple child sized bicycle helmet decorated with splendid giant bunny ears and plastic bunny nose, with whiskers. I'd found my people. So I sidled over and inquired if this were the anarchist contingent. They neither confirmed nor denied it, but introduced themselves as Rob Noxious and his pal, the somewhat hirsute (in a rather pleasing way!) Bart. They further let me know that they were riding a 7-person bicycle, which I was welcome to join them on, even to perch on the very auspicious front seat if so inclined! Well what could I say? I wanted to pedal!!!
So it was that one rather pale, and almost completely sober Pippy was seen, pigtails aloft, pedaling down Halsted Street between two young men wearing pink cat collars with matching leashes. Rob did most of the steering, deftly weaving across the road to work the crowds on either side. The sober and somewhat serious (which, in retrospect I tend to attribute to his wearing long black pants when it was roughly 119º in the shade) Dave pedaled on my left, hands on the handlebars, eyes on the road. Meanwhile Bart created something of a sensation (!) nearly naked in snug black briefs, button-down shirt buttoned all the way down, legs frequently flailing, due to his unfortunate and regrettable decision to pedal barefoot. Bart was something of the drunken navigator, yelling "left, go left! Hard left! Hard right! Right! Right! Right rightrightright!!! Zig-zag!" From a perch on the rear of the craft, a makeshift carrier of sorts woven from inner tubes, the beautiful Mistress Birch (I hope I got your name right! Forgive me, it was noisy!) held the reins, the two pink cat leashes and my own hastily made up leash of plastic pride beads, because I couldn't stand to be left out! Many in the crowd were very receptive and curious about the vehicle! Because it was, and is, truly, a marvel of engineering, a thing of beauty! I saw several drunken attempts at counting riders. Six! There were six!! Dave spread the love around while Bart's crotch was soaked several times by water pistols, oh yes. I could get no love, meanwhile from the boys with the water guns, having no such impressive piece of my own (although, until it popped, I did hold aloft a rather suggestive, elongated pink balloon) Sigh.
Well, you get the idea. A good time was had by all.
Rob pointed out the Anarchist Contingent when the parade was over, and it was us and some wilting drag queens milling about the park by the giant statue of Goethe.
Some experimental kissing went on, I'm not saying who was kissing whom, but let's say it was rather untamed! Somehow the word "sex" was written on my stomach and "fun" on my left arm in purple sharpie.
Dave and I found out that we were both familiar with Montreal, as I walked him around the park on his leash.
A statuesque she-male took a turn on the bike with Rob.
I headed home, confronting the usual sign carrying Christians, who numbered about 5, and required police protection (who were in turn being confronted by kissing lesbians wearing electrical tape) with my little Sex and Fun billboards (all the Christians looked as though they could stand to be reminded, they were a somewhat pale and unsexy lot. It all comes of sitting in church too much). One, who, I think suspected I was secretly straight, and was hoping he could get some, and maybe win a soul at the same time (if such a thing is possible? Who knows? Maybe he figured there was time to get married first?) introduced himself as Jim and reminded me I needed to repent. I started to tell him I had spoken to Jesus just the other day, and plus all He told me was to love my neighbor as myself and so I figured I was all good. But a police woman made me move along. Police. Sigh.
In any event, there is so much more I could tell! Oh yes. I stop now.
(And bikey friends, If you all are out there, yes, I want to ride again!!!! Give a holler, ok??)
Posted by pippypippy at 09:26 AM | Comments (3)
June 25, 2005
Hey ladies!
Marcel is sending all his big wet smooches to Carolyn and Heidi today! Slurp! Slurp!
Ah yes, the knitting librarians were out last night and so were we~ first I met up with Carolyn at her work in the Intimidating Building In The Financial District, Carolyn who is maybe slightly intimidating in a good way, and at the same time absolutely adorable in her glasses! Oh how I love girls with glasses. Carolyn and I then made our way to the tiki bar in the Palmer House, where we met Heidi (also adorable in glasses! Believe it!) and drank exotic polynesian blender drinks served with funny little dolls in them (photo someday!) and talked the girl talk about bras and whatnot. And plus I told them the tale of my new best friend in the whole world, a very large and in charge transgendered person, who quite deliberately rescued me from being trapped next to a sweaty crazy man, on the train! And whose name, unfortunately I didn't catch. Although I did learn most of her life story, which was tragic and beautiful, just as she was herself. She had a tattoo of the name James. So wherever you are, girl, thanks for rescuing me from the smelly crazy man, and I hope to see you tomorrow! This is where I am hoping to be (not the Dyke march one but the other one), unless it is way too hot. In case you don't have time to click the link, its worth it if only to wonder which of these catagories you fall under~
"sexy anarchists, genderqueers, sex radicals, tranny sex workers, homeless queer youth, radical faeries, lesbian avengers, revolutionary faggots, intersexed insurrectionists, transgendered direct actionists, riot grrrls & riot bois, anti-assimilationist queers, feminist femmes, gender binary smashing butches, pansexual perverts, ethicals sluts, drag kings & drag queens, queers of color, anti-war burlesque performers, radical cheerleaders, queer punks & homo-hoppers, dykes on bikes, bykes on bikes, genderfreaks on freak bikes, bisexuals in black bloc, autonosexuals in their undies, omnisexuals out of their undies, polyamourous situationists, nonmonogamous mamas, naked union organizers, d.i.y. pornstars, heteroflexibles, homoflexibles and straight but not narrow allies and other sexual outlaws and gender nonconformists."
Anyway! I was saying about last evening! Carolyn, Heidi and I then went over to the hotel where the librarians were, and met up with the knitters. It was nice and cool in the hotel lobby, and we knitted and chatted, and a splendid time was had by all!
I worked on the daffodil baby sock, for Joey (see Big Monkey, Helpy Chalk for photos) and finished it up this morning. Plus I discovered a public air conditioned room in our building where I can go to start the new one, because heat, crankiness, and size 0 needles don't mix. That's a fact.
Oh, and p.s. Cari, thanks for the hug!!
Posted by pippypippy at 11:27 AM | Comments (3)
June 24, 2005
massive brain meltdown
Dudes!
The heat can make a little dog
have a melt down! Believe it!
Posted by pippypippy at 10:11 AM | Comments (3)
June 21, 2005
Yayyy! He's here!
Everyone please join me in giving a warm Knit-A-Log welcome to the newest member of the Hinshaw-Loftis (or do you say Loftis-Hinshaw??) family of fine humans, my very own Fairie Godchild Caroline's brand new little bro, Joe! Weighing in at a healthy 9 pounds, 2 ounces! Heartfelt congratulations to all!
Go here to see the cuteness for yourselves! Oh the cuteness, the cuteness! Its almost blinding, believe it! Its true!
(p.s.- Joseph, There are tiny orange socks with your name on them, little man! Although seeing you now, they do seem slightly insufficiently macho, especially for one rumored to have been born with his fist in the air, ready to rumble! But I'll send them along and let you decide for yourself!)
Posted by pippypippy at 12:25 PM | Comments (1)
June 19, 2005
Lifestyles for the Little Dog
The model is not Marcel, but very very handsome, no? And then there is this handsome devil!
Just fyi, Marcel's birthday is in November.
And plus, lest we should forget~
Isn't it time for.. walkies!?!
Oh yeah there is email out there to be read!
Important meetings to get to!
Isn't there a painting about The Dynamism of a Little Dog on a Mission??
p.s. special thanks to Picasso for the wonderful surprise rubber stamp package in my mailbox!
Posted by pippypippy at 11:27 AM | Comments (2)
June 16, 2005
dammit!
Some of you already know this, but I am disappointed because I didn't find out about this until after it happened! There is also a funny follow-up to the story~ I was in a cafe today getting a muffin and the cute young woman behind the counter looked at me and said,"were you in the Naked Bike Ride?" (there's a pick-up line boys) And I was like "no! I'm so sorry I missed it!" She went on to say that I looked like someone she had seen there. I asked where they had ridden, and she said they gathered in Logan Square and rode around in the Loop, which is a pretty longish ride. I couldn't help myself, I had to know what the reactions of bystanders were. She said some stared, some cheered, some averted their eyes, which she demonstrated by making her mouth into something of an O, gasping and ducking her head.
So I missed out, but the nice coffeehouse girl pointed out that there is always next year.
Hey!
Who can it be?
And what's he got on under there??
Under where???
he he he.
Posted by pippypippy at 06:32 PM | Comments (3)
June 15, 2005
Marcel's summer reading list
Posted by pippypippy at 07:25 AM | Comments (2)
June 13, 2005
more fundamentalist surrealism
Ok, maybe I have way too much time on my hands.
This morning I give you yet another rantish, what-is-this-world-coming to type of entry. Forgive me.
Through a series of links, beginning with Rob's Big Monkey, Helpy Chalk blog, I found my way another blog, that of an unfortunate young man named Zack.He is young, gay, and in Memphis.
(Run away, Zack. Run fast, run far, run North!!!)
Zack came across these rules for the creepy christian re-education camp he is being sent to, and one of them was as follows:
"Fresh undergarments are to be worn at all times." Words to live by. (ok maybe fundamentalists aren't wrong about everything) But they better not be Calvin Klein. Believe it!
Oh, I wish I could adopt the little guy. He could come to Chicago, we would put on tank tops and go walking on Halsted Street with Marcel (a gay name for an insufficiently macho little dog, and a corrupting influence if there ever was one). We'd march with some Bears in the Pride Parade alongside the ACLU! I would take him shopping in the depths of depravity at Abercrombie and Fitch.
Lord, have mercy, how butch I will be! I would absolutely never shave my pits and plus I would wear a sports bra when I wasn't even working out (also forbidden)!
Maybe I would even...teach Zack to knit if he were so inclined..
(see how cleverly I work in knitting content?)
Anyway, last night I had a crazy dream that has lingered into this morning. In it I worked in an office doing something, its hard to say what. It was like I had all the anxiety of having a job but no actual work. So I was sitting at this desk which was empty except for a telephone, some cables that went nowhere, and a bunch of unfinished knitting projects. Plus my phone kept ringing and it was my boss calling from across the hall, a young man who mumbled and whispered vague instructions into the phone. I would try to hear him and I would promise to have everything done ASAP, then hang up and not know what it was I promised to do. So I addressed some envelopes and shuffled the cables around and pretended I was busy. Not so weird as dreams go but it stays in my head.
I really ought to draw but the weather is so sticky and not conducive.
And plus, lest I should get through one entry without him, ladies and gentlemen, give a warm Knit-A-Log welcome to our very own~
Marcel Duchamp! (the crowd goes wild!)
In a playful romp!
He totally hates to be left out.
Believe it.
the end.
Posted by pippypippy at 09:57 AM | Comments (2)
June 11, 2005
ain't no drag
Look who entertained at SCADs graduation, oh yes, the Godfather of Soul. (scroll down a little, he's there just look for the redredred jacket! ) Ok now I have got to go to school here.
Posted by pippypippy at 07:59 PM | Comments (2)
Gone to the dawgs
Knit-A-Log readers, for your viewing enjoyment, allow me to introduce Marcel's best new canine pal in the whole world, Skipper! Skipper is the Barry White (no pun intended! Ha!) of the dawg world! And here's the thing~ he kinda swings both ways! He just wants to be loved, is that so wrong??
All Bichon Frise-es speak French, the Language of Love. Je t'aime, baby. Vive La France.
Plus he has the most lucious eyelashes!
Hm, who's this?
Hello!
Help! Mom!
(If you look closely in this photo you can see the yellow bandage still on Marcel's left hind-pata!)
Later that same night...
The elusive Wininger's Rhinocerous returns to prowl amongst the dense undergrowth of the rainforest.
The Wininger's Rhinocerous possesses excellent night vision, plus the ability to spot predators in two directions at once.
Here, the nocturnal creature pauses to smell the flowers before slipping back into the darkness from whence it came!
Posted by pippypippy at 01:06 PM | Comments (0)
June 10, 2005
where the wild things be
Through the sultry darkness of the tropical summer night, all manner of wild beests make their way to the watering hole.
Beware the tiny, nocturnal Wininger's Rhinoceros, also known as the Apartment-Dwelling Pongo, a tiny black and white daemon of the underbrush, known by its deceptively soulful expression and mournful howl (often comared to the songs of the whales), heard throughout the northern neighborhoods of Chicago.
Beware the terrible tusks!
Posted by pippypippy at 11:16 AM | Comments (2)
June 09, 2005
Devil Don't Claw
Ah summer. I love it. I hate it.
With the right balance of air conditioning to outdoor time I love it.
In fact, in general I am not a..uh.. fan (ha!) of air conditioning. In fact most times when I have had jobs in offices, I have found that I am consistently freezing, in winter, in summer. Then in summer you have these complex work wardrobe issues, to carry a sweater or not, to wear socks or sandals or both (a fashion don't! Frightening to contemplate!) At one particular job a thermometer revealed the temperature under my desk to be 50º. And it was windy under there! Concerned friends went so far as to donate a heating pad, with specially designed and sewn flannel (with tasteful printed chicken motif!) pata-pocket, to protect my digits from frostbite.
At this same office a similarly ectomorphic co-worker was heard to pronounce, loudly and bitterly, as he marched angrily toward the thermostat, "I don't want to have to wear thermal underwear in the summertime!" I felt the poor little guy's pain.
In any event, due to complex window situations and budget constraints, I am living without this summer. So far its only kind of minorly annoying, since it hasn't been that hot yet. Hot enough, but not like that summer when all those people died. The big bonus is that a lot of oldsters live in our building, too, so if it comes to a massive heat wave, public rooms are used as cooling areas to keep our neighbors from keeling over in their apartments. I will be down there, playing cards with my new friends.
Air conditioning is bad for the environment anyway, right?
This is what I keep telling myself. I am doing my bit for the ozone layer or something.
Luckily, Marcel and John have a cranky window box that keeps things reasonable for two slightly fuzzy men.
Yesterday our kind and intrepid house-call vet came to fix Marcel's one black hind claw, which had been allowed to get all out of control. He says its his favorite lucky one. Among other functions it helps him win at cards and keeps devils away. So you can imagine. If one tries to touch it he gently moves it out of reach. If one comes at it with nail clippers, or even a nail file, well, the guy flips his lid. And he is clairvoyant when it comes to the merest thoughts of nail grooming, believe it! So we had to call in the big guns when his Lucky Devil Don't Claw was discovered to have curled over and begun working its way into his pata-pad. Oh my.
Here are a couple of doggy photos for your pleasure.
This is Marcel before he knew the vet was coming~
And this is him after~
Ha! No, actually he was a very good sport about the whole thing, and very happy to see his friends.
Now he has a funny bandage on his back paw, which, unfortunately I haven't got a photo of as yet.
In any event, he survived his little ordeal, the claw is back to a reasonable length and he is on anti-biotics for his pad wound, which means little chunks of canned dog food at unusual times of day.
Its a little bit harder to knit when it is humid, but I finished the cantaloupe-colored baby socks and have begun a pair in Lorna's Laces Daffodil. I am thinking of sitting in our garden today and working on them. The side of our building is a fenced in garden with a giant raised up terrace. The terrace and the garden are built over top of the parking garages. Around the terrace are topiaries, little bushes in concrete planters which, in recent times, the gardeners have taken to shaping into hearts and mickey mouse heads, and little spheres on sticks. Below the terrace is a wide expanse of lawn, and trees and flowerbeds around the edges. In spring there are flowering trees, tulips, irises and lily of the valley. There is also a rose garden, and in one corner a playground with swings. When I first lived here, about 12 years ago, I remember reading Wuthering Heights on the bench by the rose bushes and pretending to be a princess. In a way I realize now I kind of was. This is what is strange about my life. In a way it is charmed. Sometimes I forget.
Posted by pippypippy at 09:06 AM | Comments (4)
June 06, 2005
A Boston Terrier in his Natural Habitat
Marcel starts his day by surveying the garden from a good vantage point.
Hm, those petunias look like they could use some watering.
Every little dog needs a garden to play in. And flowers to smell.
It makes them smile!
Plus they like to explore.
He's in there somewhere.
Oh yes, its good to be a dogue, with cool moss under your patas in the summertime.
Now that its summertime and he has a new home, Marcel has been spending quite a bit more time in the out of doors. Yesterday he and I went to the park, which is one block away and quite convenient for a dog who prefers short jaunts to long hikes. Its not that he is lazy. Its just that his ventilation system is limited to a short narrow, slightly inadequate nasal passage. Its tiring for him to keep cool. The park is a whole other thing from the garden. It has its advantages, for example, there is the Hot Dog Lady. Who will sell you a hot dog with no bun just for you-know-who, who would probably be pleased with the bun also, but still. Its only 50¢ without. There is not one dog, big or small, within a 4 mile radius of Welles Park, I am quite certain, who is not in love with the Hot Dog Lady. And who doesn't dig in the couch cushions when no one is looking, hoping for loose quarters.
The general consensus among small children, those who aren't terrified of him, is that Marcel is funny looking and his tail is too short. So far only one particularly friendly, especially groovy little boy named Angus demanded to know what had happened to it to make it short, as he poked his free index finger (other hand was clutching a soggy bagel, probably the only reason Marcel sat still for any this) repeatedly in the general vicinity of where Marcel's tail would be, also known as his butthole. (scuse my language). Marcel was slightly put off by being molested in such an intimate way, but was good natured about it, as he tends to be, especially since he is terrified of little kids, and when he's terrified he just freezes in place. At the same time he was scooting his back end down, his nose end was reaching for the bagel, which Angus managed to hold aloft with one grubby paw while continuing to poke at Marcel's personal swimsuit area with his other. Why his tail is so short? Angus really wanted to know. Some mean bad guys cut it off when he was just a little baby! I said. Don't worry, he isn't sad about it anymore!
I explained gently.
Then there was the little boy on the scooter yesterday. This child had a face like a 16 inch softball, and he informed me that Marcel looked funny. I informed him that that was because Marcel was very special and that was why I loved him. Then he said it again. I said its true, he does. That's why I like him. Then he said it again and I said isn't your mom calling you? Because I think I hear your mom calling you.
Posted by pippypippy at 11:24 AM | Comments (6)
June 05, 2005
dawg pitchers
Marcel is beside himself with happiness in his new home!
Like most hyper little dogs, our boy expresses his enthusiasm by attacking things that won't fight back too much. In this case, his comfy new bed. Which he loves.
Visuals courtesy of Uncle Wininger.
Rarrr! Take that, new bed!!!
I bite you! Many! Many!
See? He really does love his bed.
The end.
Posted by pippypippy at 01:09 PM | Comments (2)
June 02, 2005
little bitty snowflakes in hell
Ok, this article(about these christians adopting other people's un-used frozen embryos through a program called -gack!- Snowflakes) in the NY Times has sent my Appall-O-Meter into the red zone. Oh, my potatoes boileth over!!! And the thing is, its mind-boggling on so many levels. And brings to mind so many problems. Like this one. If an embryo is not adopted by christians, how can it be Saved before it is discarded? So does the Snowflake then go to hell? Oh I am so confused.
But here are a few..uh..choice (for lack of a better word!) representative quotes, for those readers who don't have time to read the actual article.
From some terribly sensitive christian windbag~ why adopt a highway when you can adopt a child? In my head I have often put pets, highways, and embryos in the same general catagory. And for the record, my dog was donated and he has no problem with it. As for highways, I don't know. I don't often contemplate the feelings of highways. Maybe I should.
"We have adopt-a-pet, adopt-a highway," he said. "I personally feel that a child is going to feel a lot more comfortable knowing they were adopted as an embryo than knowing that they were donated."
(of course donation implies one was given away for free. I don't know about other former embryos, but I would definitely feel much better knowing that my parents paid good money for me. Huh??)
This gets more and more surreal the more I contemplate it.
And then there was this~
Those conditions were fine with Bob and Angie Deacon of Virginia Beach, Va., who donated their 13 embryos after having twins and being discouraged from another pregnancy by a doctor. "With another program, to be honest with you, they could have been adopted by lesbian parents, and I'm totally against that," said Mr. Deacon, 35.
Because we want them to be born, but not that much. Right on, Bob.
And finally we have this gem, from the same previous windbag with the highway analogy~
"The best way to increase awareness of embryo adoption is controversy," he said. "The embryonic stem cell research debate has done more to publicize this than anything. Nobody's going to put pictures of the president kissing a child in your paper just to publicize an adoption program."
Lord knows actual children are not on the prezident's agenda, or the newspaper's agenda (unless of course they are murdering their playmates- for gruesome details search yesterday's NY Times for an article much too disturbing to link to) not that anyone is talking about actual children. Right? Oh, these people are so messing with my head. Is it just me or is this conversation totally mind-boggling?
I'm going to go have coffee now.
Talk amongst yourselves.
Whoa. I just had to add something more cheerful!
Check out the right Reverend and the wall of Coke!
Posted by pippypippy at 08:50 AM | Comments (1)