The History of English: An Animated Cartoon

via The Open University. Too fabulous not to share Sunday night/Monday morning!

I’d like to eat your father’s beard.

I am pretty sure that caught your attention.

Nasty right? Especially given the crazy beard craze that’s been rife the last few years. Thank you Joaquin Phoenix…NOT. Truth be told, you do manage to get away with most anything, like models on a runway sporting absurd clothes, us mere mortals should not follow suite.

Hear this hipster boys? Make friends with Gillette and I promise it will pay off big time. No matter what they say, as they flutter their lashes over a can of piss –oops I mean Pabst Blue Ribbon– no woman wants to get jiggy jiggy with someone harboring small creatures and last month’s lunch in their facial hair. Scruff, yes. Castaway, no.

Joaquinbeard

Wow, I am seriously digressing.

I was on the road in Bangkok today and I saw a motorbike riding along with around 60 or so multi-pastel colored cotton candy packages. In this town, I am used to seeing motorbikes and tuk-tuks carrying way more than seems scientifically possible. Usually it’s some combination of crates of chickens and giant plastic bags of various  green vegetables that will remain un-named, since I am far from familiar with local produce.

via http://fiestafarms.ca/

This was a nice change of scenery and it got me thinking.

In English we call this melted and spun sugar: cotton candy. Sort of makes sense except few people use cotton balls since the advent of the cotton pad.  In Thai, it is called silk thread. That really makes sense – it is after all threads of sugar spun around like a silk cocoon. The French call it father’s beard. Really? That’s the best we could come up with? Blech. Maybe that’s why as a kid at the summer village fair, I always opted for the gaufre creme chantilly [waffle with fresh whipped cream] and gave daddy’s beard a miss.

So tell me please: what’s cotton candy in your language?

I Am Going to Sell My Eggs

Guest Post by Lynn, brilliant creator of The Diary of a Nomad Mom. She is wet-your-knickers funny and I am totally honored that she wanted to swap guest posts with me. You can also find brilliant ‘shorts’ like the one below on her Facebook page. Lynn and I decided to write about how we mothers try to make a buck without having to succumb to turning tricks…yet. You can check out mine on her blog here!

nomadmomdiary.com

Once upon a time I was flying up the career ladder. I worked 60 hours a week and made six figures. Shopping sprees galore, groceries from Whole Foods and dinner out whenever I wanted. Then my husband got offered a job in a foreign country. And we had a baby. And everything went to hell in a hand basket.

Four years ago we made our move with a 8 week old baby in tow. I lasted for two months as a stay at home mom before I started climbing the walls. I was sick of window-shopping with a baby carriage, I wanted the freedom to go back into the stores and use any dressing room I wanted. (Side note, how seriously freaking annoying are the hordes of teen girls who all pile into together into the one big dressing room? I know I am a lackadaisical parent at best, but even I hesitate to park the stroller in the common area of the dressing room. Move your skinny butts out of there already!)

My husband came home one evening to find me crying over the baby. It is amazing how quickly a nervous breakdown can make your husband find money in the budget for daycare. We signed up for one day a week and my adventures in money-hunting began.

What kind of start-up does a woman with zero creativity and no experience working for herself make? Apparently, a lot more than she ever envisioned. It took me six months to get the ball rolling, but I soon found myself overwhelmed with new business ideas. I buddied up with a creative friend and started a website. I wrote and wrote and wrote and earned nothing but pats on the back for my efforts. Nice, but those don’t buy the latest Prada sandals that I HAD to have.

Next we opened a photography studio, but without the studio. We bought collapsible backdrops and lights and marketed ourselves as traveling family photographers. We booked in all of my friends and soon had a nice little (emphasis on the word little) income stream. We paid off the equipment and eventually earned enough for the shoes.

Emboldened by our success, I began dreaming up more and more ideas and that were further and further from reality. Like my idea for a waterproof kid’s clothing line that would keep the dribbles from soaking through. Purchased: one sewing machine and vast amounts of cloth samples. End result: new curtains for my business partner’s baby room and a bag of cloth shoved in the back of my attic .

Somehow I eventually managed to bring in a few thousand euros by whoring out my marketing talents and writing skills for fractions of what I used to make. I ended up older and more bitter and even further from the shopping sprees I had envisioned. What good is it if you can afford the Prada shoes when you realize that you have to work 200 hours to pay for them?

So now I write this blog in the hopes that someday, someone will stumble across it and think “this woman is a genius” and will shower me with money, book and movie deals. Until then I have finally come up with a guaranteed way to earn more money. I am going to sell my eggs. I figure as long as no one looks closely at my kids and I run a strict no refunds policy, I’ll be doing just fine.

What’s Wrong with Disney and the One Man Capella Group

Watch this:

After Ever After: A Disney Parody

I am on a video kick. Sorry real content coming soon. This is just too good. I have major issues with most Disney characters. Brave and the girl in New Orléans who turns into a frog just about pass muster.

Dark, funny, accurate.