Yes, it’s true. We chronic avoiders of social media have finally relented and have joined the tweeting masses. If the spirit moves you, it is now possible to start following our inane, no-longer-than-140-character utterances on Twitter.
If you’re ready to take the plunge, just follow this link and enter “idiotsbooks” in the search box (no apostrophe). If you’re already a Twitter user, you just have to click that you want to “follow” our tweets. If you’re new, it’s pretty easy to set up an account.
“And why would I want to do this?” you say with outrage and the kind of self-righteousness that only a seasoned Luddite can muster?
Here’s why: we’ve decided to use Twitter as a publishing forum for a new book project that will be published in 365 tweets over the course of a year. Twitter’s strict character requirements allow for about two sentences per day. So you won’t have to skip breakfast or lunch to follow along.
More on this to come. We’ll probably get started in a week or two. But for now, we wanted to get the word out, so you have time to come to terms with your Twitter aversion. Just remember what the mean kids said in seventh grade: “Come on, everybody’s doing it. If you really loved us, you would do it. It will only hurt a little.” You shouldn’t have bowed to the pressure then, but you did, right? And you will now, too, right?
Here’s that link again. We’ll continue to pester you in the days ahead, so you might as well just bite the bullet now.
On our way back home from beautiful Wilmington, Delaware a the other day, we stopped by beautiful Middletown, Delaware for some sushi.
We were innocently browsing the menu for delicious rolls when we stumbled upon an item that caused us alarm. Look closely at the ingredients for the Maryland roll, especially the one listed between the avocado and the mayo.
We quickly panicked. Alden and Kato were with us, and as we saw it, their safety was a matter of definitions. Technically, Alden is now a “little girl,” but one might argue that a “little girl,” is nothing but an “old baby.” On the other end of things, Kato is still a very new baby, but who is to say how the chefs at Sushi Yama interpret these things? Might they be willing to stretch a bit if they happened to run low on this crucial, probably hard-to-obtain, ingredient?
We asked for the check and left without finishing our meal. We made it home with little girl and new baby intact, but we shudder to think what might have been.
The deed is done. I went to friend Brian’s Studio B in Sudlersville. He is the best. He did my hair for my wedding. I mean, he was invited to my wedding, and out of the niceness of his heart did everyone’s hair. Matthew’s hair never looked so good.
Thanks to you all (or, at least, 65 of you) it was decided: coming in first with 56.92% of the vote was the Girly Mullet. For those of you who are interested in the silver and the bronze (but who ever is, really), Sideways Bob came in second with 29.23% of the vote and Pixie came in third with 13.85% of the vote. Let the record show that I wanted Pixie and Matthew wanted Sideways Bob. I suppose you all are interested in compromise. Let the record also show that I did the best photoshopping job on Girly Mullet. Either you’re totally suggestible, or I subconsciously sabotaged my own first choice because I really wanted a mullet.
Anyway – I showed Brian the photo below (via About.com: Women’s Hairstyles) as reference, secretly hoping that my new ‘do would make my boobs look this good.
One of the first things he said is, “We’re going to have to do this so it doesn’t look like a mullet.”
His words, not mine. I agreed, but a little sadly. It’s not every day you get to blame other people for your mullet. He knows I’m a low-hair-maintenance sort of person, so he emphatically stated that I will need to TOWEL DRY my hair, then APPLY PRODUCT that is either a CREAM or a PASTE and maybe says DETANGLER on it. Otherwise, my head will look like a Q-tip. I guess I will have to go find a product now, so if anyone has any suggestions of something I can purchase in a lowbrow town like Chestertown, please feel free to suggest away in the comments.
And now, the grand unveiling:
The question is: Does my head look like a Q-tip?
The answer: Not yet!
The other question is: Do my boobs look great?
The answer: Hell yeah!
Nice work, Brian! Thanks, everyone who voted!
And here you are folks, the final photos of Robbi’s lovely locks before they are rudely banished from her head (in fact, as I post, the deed is likely done).
Notice how happy she is to have this long hair. Does she really look like a woman who needs or wants a new do?
Why, you ask, would she ever part with it?
I cannot say. I’m just one man. I got one vote, just like you.
Thanks to that critical mass of you who kept her from going full pixie.
Secretly, I’ve always wanted a gal with a mullet.
Our good friend Christian recently sent us another Sporcle quiz, this one with scenes in movies. I have to say, having some context really helped. Matthew was so inspired that he demanded another four portraits to draw. I have to say, these drawings are pretty darn good. It would be a great experiment for me to try to draw these people and see how many you get. I famously make people look very scary, and am also famously pretty bad at capturing actual likenesses because of it (do I just see the worst in people?).
We will post results next week, so make sure you get your votes in. And don’t forget to press the SUBMIT button at the bottom.
Anyway – without further ado, try your hand at these:
Also, I’m going to get my hair cut in T minus an hour and 15 minutes. It looks like I might be going the way of the mullet. If you strongly disagree, get all your friends to overload the votes. I’m pretty sure Matthew will be calling everyone he knows to keep me from looking “too mannish,” which he thinks happens when I have short hair. Ouch.
The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer, since all of us barn dwellers are familiar with the fine art of smiling, but Kato is still a novice, if only by virtue of his limited experience. Because smiling is an important aspect of the daily grind around here, I try to give the little man as much exposure as possible. And so we often stand in front of the mirror, practicing.
It’s not so bad as far as training sessions go, certainly much more pleasant than chin-ups or wind sprints.
I’m not sure which one of us enjoys it more.
As has already been documented elsewhere, Robbi had trouble sleeping last night. As I was heading through the living room en route to the bathroom sometime in the mid-wee hours, I startled a sleeping Robbi (sprawled on the living room floor), who in turn startled me. She had fallen asleep there after hours of feverish insomnia during which she cleaned the house, baked bread, and sketched a magnificent underwater scene, as shown (click to enlarge):
And then, this afternoon, she transformed it into this:
I’ve often wondered what the inside of Robbi’s head looks like. Now I think I know.
If this is the sort of thing that happens when Robbi can’t sleep, I am tempted to drug her with tea every night.
As for Midnight Swim, let the bidding begin.
Night blogging deserves a quiet night.
Last night Matthew had to have some Theraflu (the whole family except for, stunningly, me, is down with the snotty noses and stuffy airways) before bed, and generously offered to share some hot water with me. I decided I would have some tea. Unfortunately, I went for the Mandarin Orange White Tea (which, BTW, is exceptional with chocolate chip cookies) which apparently has enough caffeine to keep me lying in bed for an hour staring at the ceiling fan, then out of bed imagining submarines (more on that later), then in the kitchen putting bread mix into the bread maker, then in the living room cleaning up the Alden toy explosion that happens on an hourly basis, then in the dining room doing sun salutations, then falling asleep on the floor sometime around 2:30am, where Matthew found me on his way to the bathroom. (Note that “living room”, “dining room” and “kitchen” are really all the same room in the barn. They ought to be called “zones”). I had to keep myself busy in those zones, because our barn is actually only three rooms: one 8′x8′ bedroom for Alden, one kitchen/living/dining/rec/den/library/room, and one studio/bedroom. Matthew is such a pantywaist sleeper that my computer screens cannot be on in the studio part of the room if he is going to be sleeping in the bedroom part of the room. And so I was unable to make good use of my time last night by night blogging.
I didn’t know that night blogging was actually a thing. I thought blogging sort of happened whenever, and that no one was really particular about designating a special time to blog. Especially at night, which seems a little weird to me, since I like to sleep at night (when not hopped up on White Tea). Well, I recently did a search for small, battery-operated, colored lights. I am thinking of illustrating an upcoming Idiots’Book by taking photos of little dioramas that are set up like stages. And I thought interesting lighting might help. My search brought me to a rave supplier site called House of Rave. Just looking at the site made my eyes bleed, so it’s probably good that this is the closest I’ve come to an actual rave.
I purchased some colored “finger lights” and a few mini spotlights. They recently arrived in the mail, which is when I noticed that I had not only been missing out on the insane light-flashing fun that is a rave, but also that I had been missing out on night blogging, which is, apparently, the fun way to have fun.
I especially like how Party Rats are your friends whether you’re at a rave with a bunch of your other friends or you’re pathetically at home alone at night blogging. They’re, like, real friends. That’s what I call unconditional love.
And since I woke up at 6:30 this morning when Matthew woke up, I decided I could at least try my hand at early morning blogging, if not night blogging.
The experience was amazingly awesome. Now I see why night blogging is so popular. I’m just sad that I only purchased enough Party Rats for one-handed night blogging. I’m afraid I’m going to have to invest in another set. And start sleeping during the day so I can get in my blogging at night.
So, it’s that time again. That time for me to lop off all of my annoying hair and start all over again. Hooray! This is a day I anticipate with relish. You see, I hate having long hair. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I like to be unencumbered by my hair. I like to not have to do anything to it at all other than wash it. And maybe spray it with something. But “styling” is beyond me. No time. No interest.
But I have a sort of moral dilemma. A few years ago I decided I would grow out my hair and donate it. I chose this because I am pretty much a totally self-indulgent person (see: my life, my blog, my “job”, etc). I don’t do much for the world at large. And I don’t do much for the world at large because jeez louise, who has time to when you’re so frickin’ busy being self-indulgent? So, I chose the one thing that I could do that required nothing more than producing dead cell matter. It really doesn’t take a lot of effort to grow your hair.
And since I did it once, and it was only mildly annoying at best, I’m having a hard time breaking the habit. Because a lot of people tell me I have a nice head of hair, and oh what they would do for hair like mine, etc. Unfortunately, I’m probably the person who is least appreciative of my hair. So giving it to someone else just seems like the right thing to do.
I really don’t care too much what my hair looks like. I mean, I don’t want it to look like this:
or, I guess, like this:
but I pretty much am open to whatever else.
So, I’ve picked out a couple haircuts. You can vote for which one I should do, or you can submit your own. I looked up “celebrity short hair” so I could pick some good-looking people to put my face on. The problem is, putting my face on these people really compromises the haircuts. I mean, these haircuts looked pretty good until I put my face on them. But, I can’t resist showing them, because they really crack me up. I can’t tell whether it’s an indictment of my photoshop skills or of my face in general. And I can’t decide which of those I would rather it be.
But here are your choices, in no particular order:
Robbi as Alyssa Milano, pixie-style:
Robbi as Emma de Caunes (I have no idea who that is) – girly mullet style:
Robbi as Katie Holmes, sideways bob style:
Am I right about me making these hairstyles look totally ridiculous? Well, it’s all up to you now. Do your worst.
VOTE! And feel free to make suggestions in the comments.
Hello Everyone. I’d like to start by thanking those of you who had nice things to say about my (admittedly modest) drawing ability. I have never considered myself much of an artist, and while living with Robbi serves as a daily reminder of my lack of proficiency with a paintbrush, I really did enjoy this first installment of Matthew Draws. From the looks of it, so did many of you.
Without further ado, I’m happy to share the correct answers (as well as a few of my favorite wrong ones.)
Here is the first drawing.
90 percent of you correctly identified my halting lines as George Washington (A few of the more colorful correct answers included, “GDub. Obvs.” and “The Big G Washington”). A few of the incorrect answers for this drawing included: Beethoven, Lincoln, Princess Leia, Thomas Jefferson, Bea Arthur, and Lady Gaga. I’m sure Miss Gaga would be horrified.
Here’s the photo I used for reference:
Here is Lady Gaga.
Come on, people.
Moving on to my second drawing:
Eighty percent of you correctly identified it as Elvis Aaron Presley (and one of you even qualified your guess as “Elvis halfway to being overweight.” James Dean was the most popular runner-up. Other wrong guesses included Adam Lambert, Conan O’Brien, Morrissey, Harry Connic Junior, John Travolta, Kid (of Kid’n'Play), and Sean Penn.
Here is The King in his glory.
Moving on to my third drawing:
This one really threw you for a loop. Only 40 percent of you correctly identified the subject of my drawing as Woody Allen.
Andy Warhol was the next most popular choice (3 of you chose Andy), followed by Bill Gates, Larry King, and Mr. Rogers (who each garnered two votes).
Other wild, wrong guesses included Alan Alda, Stephen Hawking, Bob Newhart (with hair), Carl Sagan, Conan O’Brien, David Brooks, Dominick Dunne, Dwight D. Eisenhower, my dad (John Swanson), Jack Benny, Neil Simon, Noam Chomsky, Roger Ebert, some dude with glasses (hard to dispute that logic), Stephen King, Steve Jobs, Steven Spielberg, Tom DeLay, Alan Greenspan, Woody Harrelson. One of you even guessed that it was a self-portrait. (I’m even more offended than Lady Gaga.)
Here’s the photo I copied in trying to render Woody.
And finally, the fourth drawing, which only 30 percent of you correctly identified as Carrot Top.
Several of of the Carrot Top guesses were elaborated on, as follows:
-An angry carrot Top
-A very angry Carrot Top
-Carrot top. I hope it’s Carrot Top
-Carrot Top in Bill Cosby’s sweater
-Carrot Top, or possibly Medusa
If Gaga and I were offended to be mentioned in the earlier guessing, I can only imagine how Robbi must feel to have been the second most frequently cited guess for the Carrot Top drawing. SEVEN of you guessed Robbi for this one, including two of you who qualified your guesses with “mad Robbi,” and “angry Robbi.”
Three of you simply didn’t place a guess, opting for question marks. Two of you thought this was a drawing of Beethoven, and two others thought that it was Sigourney Weaver or the Green Lantern.
One of my favorite wrong answers: “A woman who was recently attacked by dogs,” but I am also fond of “Bride of Frankenstein.”
Others among you thought I was trying to draw Frieda Kahlo, Helena Bonham Carter, Hilary Clinton, Johnny Depp, Ke$ha, Lady Gaga (again, poor woman), Madonna, Marilyn Monroe (more like Marilyn Manson, if you ask me), Medusa, Paula Poundstone, Serena Williams, Susan Boyle, Tina Fey, WTF, and Yo Momma.
And here he is, in all his glory. The one, the only.
All I had to do was draw four sketches, and a veritable universe of possible matches presented themselves. I’m touched that you people find my work so versatile, so richly evocative, so utterly flawed.
Tune in soon for another version of Matthew Draws. If you’d like to suggest someone for me to draw next time, send me an email (though please leave poor Lady Gaga alone).