This clip just gave me a big ole belly-laugh. It made my morning and I hope it makes yours, too.

“Everything is amazing and nobody is happy” by Meowbay

“Everybody on every plane should constantly be going ‘Oh my god! Wow!’… You’re sitting on a chair in the air.”

ps. Simpler days. Photograph by Charles W. Chushman is of New York in 1942, looking up 4th Ave from Astor Place with Cooper Union at right, from here. More about this incredible collection here.

I have always wanted to do this.

(Photos, video and concept from Improv Everywhere)

Also, RUDE FOOD! (I’m writing about the Magic Pudding on English Muse) >>

Meet Henri, the feline philosopher. Oh how he breaks my heart! The mournful way he hangs his head while submitting to the indignity of having his butt hair trimmed. His slow turn to camera, bringing home the irony of a little sign, “Pay attention to the cat.” (“Not that they ever do.”)

And oh! Henri! “Immortalised on the wall. Forgotten on the floor.” I sob.

Credit:
I first saw Henri on Hila Lumiere’s blog, le projet d’amour. You should visit her lovely blog now and if you like what you see (which I’m quite sure you will), vote for Hila in the Best Australian Blogs competition. (There are several pages of blogs, listed alphabetically, and Hila’s blog is listed under the letter ‘L’ on page three as “le projet d’amour.”)

Elsewhere:
Today I’m back on the English Muse, bringing you a taster from the stunning Hindu Festival of Colours. Won’t you pop in and tell me what you think?

Image from Pison Jaujip

Somewhere on Route 66

It was more than 100 degrees outside the car. As I rolled the window down to place our order at Burger King, I swear my eyelashes singed. The sun-faded speaker box asked what I would like for lunch today.

Me: One fish burger, and…

Speaker box: Chicken nuggets, yes. Y’all want somethin’ else?

Me: No, a fish burger.

Speaker box: Ah beg pardon, two chicken nuggets. Got it.

Me: No chicken nuggets! None at all!

Speaker box: Take a deep breath, honey. We’ll get there. Speak slowly.

Me: F-I-S-H burger. Fish, like, um, fish swimming in the water.

Speaker box: Got it. One water. Anything else?

My father sent me this today. It’s a poster from 1919, just before the prohibition amendment was ratified in the United States. How much of a deterrent do you think these ladies managed to be? Me? I need a drink.

Happiness is infectious. Just seeing someone else’s joy – like the little girl in this picture* – makes me grin, and a little of her happiness rubs off on me.

After this video became a bit of a YouTube sensation, Matt managed to get funding for a couple more world journeys, just so long as he was willing to dance in public again. Take a look at wherethehellismatt.com to find out more about his story.

Now tell me: when joy takes you, just takes over and you are truly happy, what do you do? Me, I want to go sing with a camel.

*This image is all over the Internet, but I can’t find the source to link to it. Does anyone know?

This is me with my dog Oliver. People like him. Everywhere we go, he gets stopped and patted. And we go a lot of places. This dog has lived in Sydney and New York, traversed the east coast of Australia, and travelled through 22 States of the US of A.

So today I took my dog with me for a walk while I got my lunch and, on cue, an old man stopped us and started patting Oliver. “Floppy ears! Floppy ears!” he said to Oliver, and then to me, “Have you got time for a story?”

I didn’t, but by then the story was already underway. The man told me he wrote Christian poems about Bible characters and some of them were quite long (oh goody). Then without warning, he proceeded to recite one of his poems.

I couldn’t exactly pick the Bible character in it. It went along the lines of “I went to the beach with my girl Stella / But when I came back from the surf she was having sex in the shallows with some fella.” I kid you not.

Stella, it transpired, was a dog with (and this part is very important) pointy ears. The poem continued for quite some time, while I shifted my feet and Oliver shifted his feet and the rain clouds gathered. I’ll spare you the rest and simply cut to the stunning and compelling punchline, in which Stella gives birth to puppies with (wait for it) floppy ears.

“BAHAHAHA” the poet roared, holding his sides as he laughed and clearly very proud of his wit. It started to rain.

And in the pause that followed while I struggled to find something polite to say, Oliver said it all for me.

He walked directly up to the poet and vomited something white and yellow and foamy on the grass in front of the poor man’s feet.

How to make your home beautiful:

Many women who are keenly anxious to dwell in beautiful surroundings, but who are unable to spend much on refurnishing, seem quite unconscious of the large part played by ‘order’ and ‘suitability’ in the making of a beautiful home. But order must not be confused with finicking tidiness; it is something far bigger and more dignified than this…

A woman’s right to her own income:

Taxing a Woman’s Marriage: An Article for Married Women with Incomes of Their Own, which tells of some Anomalies lately brought to Light, and How the Income of Husband and Wife is made to Bear Burdens Jointly that could not be Imposed Separately…

Curried tripe recipe:

Slice two large onions and fry them a light brown colour in two tablespoonfuls of dripping. Stir into the pan one teaspoon of curry powder, one table spoon of flour and three-quarters of a pint of stock…

Ladylike passion:

“We’ll never let this house go, Uncle Tuck, never!” said Rose Mary passionately, as she pressed her cheek closer to his arm. “I don’t know why I know, but we are going to have it as long as they – and you, you need it – and I’m going to die here myself,” she added with a laughing sob, as she shook two tears out of her lashes and looked up at him with adorning stars in her eyes.

Speech therapy:

Paula brightened and did her best to look intelligent. “Bai Jove, yes wather, thanks, thanks,” she said. “The air – why of course. I can’t think why I couldn’t wecall that fact before! But I’ve a tewwible bwain for poetwy, Miss Wedgwave, yes wather. Deplowa-”

“Yes, yes, Paula,” Miss Redgrave cut in dryly. “I have already had ample opportunity to notice that fact.”

Literary gold!