I laughed so hard at this picture that I actually laid my head down on my desk, tears running down my cheeks. I know, I know, 9/11 isn't funny. I lost co-workers that day, as did many of us. BUT COME ON. The high kick might be my favorite. Or perhaps him just listening to smoke, I can't decide. All I know is that THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING. BROTHER.
Next, is it a shindig, or a hootenanny? I feel like once pants come off the grownups, you've moved to a hootenanny, but I'll have to check the party guide to be sure. I do believe the answer to life can be discerned from that picture, if only you let yourself be open enough to receive it. The power of that kid's strum could save the world, like how in rock videos they can transform the very physics of things. Example: In a Stryper video, say some rotten punks are doing bad things. The guitarist from Stryper shows up, plays a "killer" riff, and now the kids are holding bibles and glasses of milk! Crisis averted!
As a female (no, it's true) I've always wished that there would be a movie in the Robocop franchise that spoke to ME. That spoke to my sensibilities, my need to make cakes and babies - or cakes out of babies, it depends on the occasion - to be quiet and respectful to my male superiors, and of course, my wish for a white wedding minus Billy Idol cutting my hand as I pirouette through my exploding kitchen. And now I've found hope. Robocop riding a unicorn? It's like someone took my dreams, ground them into powder, mixed them with my tears to make a paste, and painted my hope on a canvass. The only way this concept could be awesomer is if the unicorn's horn morphs into an M-4. "Have a nice day." [whinny, artillery spray]
I just don't know about those glowing eyes. "Are you the Keymaster?" "During the rectification of the Vuldrini, the traveler came as a large and moving Torg! Then, during the third reconciliation of the last of the McKetrick supplicants, they chose a new form for him: that of a giant Slor! Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Slor that day, I can tell you!" I don't know what this guy's story is, all I know is I want to read it. Almost to the point where I think a ficathon wherein particpants write the story of this pic is a TERRIFIC idea.
(and I can't help it, that's my favorite quote from Ghostbusters, that and "Yes, have some." and "Dogs and cats... living together... MASS HYSTERIA!")
And now I go to the back room to do an hour of Kenpo where I'll imagine I'm fighting off Hulk Hogan carrying a Robocop'd unicorn on his sweaty, 'roided back. EPIC BATTLE OF EPICNESS! Happy Thursday!
Oh, wait, I forgot to mention Crack Rocks. (That's what she said.) The kids decided last night they didn't want fish, so I had to whip up a protein with what I had. Because of a convo I had on FB earlier about how Olive Oil and Cracked Pepper Triscuits are crack, and they featured heavily in my made-up dish, we dubbed the dinner "Crack Rocks." I love that my 7 year old Emily told me how good my crack rocks were. Ahahahaha.
Ground turkey (about a pound) + half a portabello mushroom diced + fresh sage leaves + a handful or so of Parmesan + 1/3 C crushed crack-flavored Triscuits + a dash of salt and pepper. Mix, roll into balls, bake on a sheet at 400 degrees for about 15 - 18 minutes. DAMN. Delicious, easy, and who wouldn't love to say they made a tray of crack rocks? (They were moist, but we were working with a theme, you see. *g*) NOW: happy Thursday!