If you know me at all — and not even like the back of your hand, but like the edge of a hangnail — you know that I am prone to anthropomorphism. If you know me well, you know that I am not only prone to it but driven by it. And if you know me very well, you know that I am often overwhelmed by it and may even be considered, in some circles, spheres, or trapezoids, to be consumed by it to such a degree that I'm not quite sure whether the "voices" I ascribe to inanimate objects are merely made up or if they do, indeed, exist inside my head and are cause for more than just a soupçon of concern.
In the late '90s, I had a boyfriend who shared this affliction, and everything around us was given a voice. However, since every object had the same voice, this made identifying them quite challenging when they would call out, vying for our attention. But much like I suspect is the case of mothers of multiple-birth offspring, over time we managed to distinguish certain nuances in their voices and thus were able to communicate more effectively with our charges.
So, it was with this in mind that I had great difficulty deciding whether or not to do some damage to a milk chocolate trophy I had won at Matt's premature Easter dinner party this past Saturday night. There, fueled only by a single Bellini, I beat all the gentiles in the first annual "Jesus Idol" competition, thanks, I'm sure, to my brilliant pantomime/spoken-word performance of a line from "I Don't Know How to Love Him" and my declaration that if Jesus were to come back as a Hollywood actor, he would be Mickey Rourke as he appears in "The Wrestler". (The runner-up selected Burt Lancaster, a noble assignment, but a losing proposition nonetheless.)
Here is the trophy, known to fine chocolatiers around the globe as "Diva Da' Bunny":
Before, in happier moments ... and Now
I trust these images make my decision clear.
Please note that before my ruthless amputation, she proudly displayed her heart-shaped "Diva" pendant. And now, that heart shuns the spotlight. Had I planned a bit better, I would have had someone bite off my ears first, so I wouldn't have to hear the bunny's screams in the distorted Marlee Matlin tone imposed on her by my gluttony.
fresh-baked at 12:53 PMI don't know if you ladies know this, delicate flowers that you are, but not only are those candy necklaces delicious, but they are also powerful weapons.
Step by Step Instructions for Turning a Frilly Rainbow Candy Necklace Into a Sinister Martial Tool by Brad
1. Put the necklace around your neck.
2. Isolate one candy bead on the elastic string, using fingers of both hands to restrain the other candy beads to the sides or back of your neck.
3. "Grasp" that isolated bead between one of your top front teeth and its corresponding bottom front tooth.
4. Stretch your arms farther in front of your face, creating tension in the elastic band.
5. Aim.
6. To fire the catapult you have just created, simply bite the candy in half. One half of it should fly with incredible accuracy and impressive speed at your chosen target. Bling! The other half should fall softly on your tongue, allowing you to literally taste the sweet rewards of your efforts.
Blind your date on Valentine's Day! Kill birds and rabbits for Easter dinner! Bling! Bling!
Mrs. Z, Karyn, the first runner-up, already has "dibs" on the candy necklace, so I feel like I am somehow contractually obligated to abstain from eating it.
Offered by: Jodi on March 18, 2009 3:06 PMIf you get crazy and go for that necklace around the bunny's neck-- no problem-- I have a bag full of those candy necklaces leftover from Valentine's Day. You could have one every day for the next two months and no one will be the wiser.
Offered by: Mrs. Z on March 18, 2009 3:02 PMGah! Thanks, Dave! I will make the change, thus rendering your comment puzzling to those who read it after the fact!
And Mike, remember, "We have to stop making everything talk! We have to stop!" Yeah. Right.
Offered by: Jodi on March 18, 2009 1:45 PMActually, the runner up chose Burt Lancaster, but Burt Bacharach is awesome too!
Offered by: dave on March 18, 2009 1:40 PMMr. Salt and Mr. Pepper were screaming, pleading for you to not bite the ears of Ms. Diva, but that Mr. Paprika sure is a sick bastard chiming in "that's right, bite her, bite her good." But what about me, says Mr. Coffee Maker? Hahahahaha! Having serious flashbacks.
Offered by: Mike on March 18, 2009 1:04 PM
