Dry Spell

Those of you who have been following the ol’ raincoaster blog for some time will know that I’ve been on a largely raw vegan die(t) for three months now, with the result that I’ve gone from an XL to an L and no, it was NOT worth it.

It was most particularly not worth it because I had to give up my beloved cocktails; in fact, I believe I only consumed alcohol one day in the month of July and that was my birthday. In August I gave myself a few more “days off” and enjoyed some wine, but it must be said that in this, as in most things in life, Dean Martin had it right.

Dino is my hero

Listen to Dino; he KNOWS!

“I’d hate to be a teetotaler. Imagine getting up in the morning and knowing that’s as good as you’re going to feel all day.”

Well, exactly.

So, how does it feel to be a neo-teetotaler in Lotus Land, when one knows all the best bartenders and they all know it’s a Negroni, up, when you walk in the door unless it’s cold outside and then it’s probably Jack Daniels or if it’s been a very bad day, Champagne? Well, it doesn’t feel good. Have you ever been the only sober person at a blowout? That’s right: it feels like a bad dream. It feels, in fact, just as depicted in this incredible documentary, 28 Drinks Later.

And, lest we forget, here are some words of wisdom from Diogenes:

“What I like to drink most is wine that belongs to others.”

Quiz: How Long Would it Take You to Become Infected from a Zombie Bite?

The Zombie Bite Calculator

Created by Oatmeal

This is after having been bitten. But of course I would not be. Because I know you stay OUT of the mall and head INTO the swimming pool, duh. Zombies hate water more than Persian cats do. Everybody knows that, but I’ll be the only one to remember it come Zombiepocalypse, you wait and see.

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Total Eclipse of the Original

I don’t know what it is about this song, but it seems to inspire the greatest living sardonicists to greater achievements in sheer over-the-topitude than have ever been seen this side of Kadath Through The Looking-Glass.

First there was Kiki and Herb‘s heartrending story of transgendered love gone awry and tragic loss.

Now, there is dascottjr‘s Literal Version. Post-Post-Postmodern and deeply Eighties, it takes you behind the scenes, behind the hair gel and makeup, behind the blank expressions of the born-to-sing-not-act star and shows you the true meaning of this, perhaps the most iconic of all music videos.

Dancing Fonzie zombies FTW!

via azahar

Oh yes, there’s a Facebook page, of course.

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Leslie Harpold sez Merry Zombie Christmas!

advent to ascent

So there it was.

White. Bright. Practically dewy with freshness, dated Monday, December 8 2008 (I quadruple-checked the year)(which the literal-minded will note was not even technically the case in my time zone when I encountered it) sitting there on my monitor for all the world as if it were a regular article waiting patiently to be read, with a perky, amusing author bio in the sidebar looking as normal as all get out.

TMN Contributing Writer Leslie Harpold is a writer and designer with a long list of publications she’s marred with her work. She is working on a novel and dreams alternately of an über urban or ultra rural future, as she is not one to do things by halves. After misspending her 20s in New York City, Leslie now lives in Grosse Pointe, Mich. She makes pie crust from scratch.

Only, it wasn’t.


Leslie Harpold, you see, has been dead for exactly two years today. [thanks to Wendie for the correction; I had it at one year. Freakouts are so fresh!] I remember her death particularly, because for several years friends had been telling me how much I, the Christmas nut, would love her annual online Advent Calendar. Which I’m sure I would have, only by the time I finally clicked around to it December 14th of 2006, it was frozen at the 7th. Which date it has been frozen on ever since, because December 7th was the last full day she was alive. She was found by friends several days after her death, in part because of curiosity generated by the failure to update her famous Advent Calendar.

So, naturally, the appearance of a brand-new and highly chipper-sounding article by the aforesaid deceased, most particularly exactly two years after her death and seasonal at that, rather freaked me out.

Mind you, it’s not the first time someone has blogged from beyond the grave.

I just wish they could manage it without:

  1. freaking me out
  2. making me feel even guiltier about my work ethic.

Toby and Sheila, a love story

Toby and Sheila is the heartwarming story of a beagle’s love for his adopted mommy, a mallard duck.

Now, the fact that Sheila is very obviously a male mallard duck shouldn’t be an issue: perhaps Sheila was simply undergoing “transition” and gender reassignment during the period these images were taken. As you will see, the love between Sheila and Toby can surmount any physical barrier, no matter how challenging.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is true love.

And here is the translation, from reddit via TYWKIWDBI:

Translation: In 1994, Toby arrived at the Mac Kenzie ranch. Incredibly, Sheila–an old duck–adopted him. They lived together in a beautiful relationship. Some time after, Sheila died of old age.

So, the Mac Kenzies decided to embalm her. (Perfectly logical.) This is the video of the moment when Toby returned to see Sheila.