Five Things, The Damaged Shoulder Edition: 1/15/14

So, I done gone and dislocated my right shoulder. I spent a few hours in a Chicago ER crying and writhing in pain–totally being ignored by ‘the best health care in the world.’ Not good. After a fentanyl drip, two batches of x-rays and being “out” when the docs jammed my shoulder back where it belongs, I finally went home. You’d think that would be it, but NO. It wasn’t until after I got home some 6 hours after I was wheeled into the busy ER, that I realized my left arm was seriously injured (have a bruise that looks like an eggplant), and I had contracted a nasty case of frost bite….yes, FROST BITE.. on my left hand.

Frost bite? Where am I? Mt. Everest?

Over the next few days, the shoulder pain turned into to a dull ache, and the pain of the frost bite and bruised arm came roaring in. Sure, I had good drugs, but I can’t handle the strong stuff. Hey, I have a hard enough time maintaining control of all four limbs without big pharma..why would I want to dull my senses and possibly bust my noggin?

While it is better, I am treating myself to an MRI on Friday, so when I meet with my bone doc next week, I’ll know if surgery is the answer or a bionic arm.

I’m going for the bionic arm because fuck yeah.

On with the show.

1) It’s 111 degrees on the Australian Open courts. 

Yaroslava Shvedova of Kazakhstan receives treatment by trainers during her first round match against Sloane Stephens of the U.S. at the Australian Open tennis championship in Melbourne, Australia, Tuesday, Jan. 14, 2014.(AP Photo/Aaron Favila)

Yaroslava Shvedova of Kazakhstan receives treatment by trainers at the Australian Open tennis championship, Tuesday, Jan. 14, 2014.(AP Photo/Aaron Favila)

2) While we’re on the subject of tennis, I’d be happy to de-crampify either of these gentlemen’s asses should they start to feel the heat down there.

The Ass Master: Roger Federer (via Men's Tennis Forum)

The Ass Master: Roger Federer (via Men’s Tennis Forum)

Screen shot 2014-01-15 at 10.30.53 PM

Rafa Nadal’s good side.

Even when Rafa’s picking his seat, it’s still sexy.

Screen shot 2014-01-15 at 10.34.12 PM

 

3) Folks, we gotta figure out a way to keep society from sliding down Crap Mountain.

Sadly, this ain’t helping.

“Men Want to Wear [Leggings], And That’s A Fact!” Say Meggings Man Owners

No, no they don’t. Men don’t want to wear something that’ll make them look like a Ken doll.

Screen shot 2014-01-15 at 10.53.24 PM

 

Unless you’re running down the … No. No. These aren’t appropriate ever.

 

4) She’s my idol.

Great Great Grandma Celebrates Turning 100 By Hiring a Stripper

(via Gawker)

(via Gawker)

She rolls hard. With a tiara.

Go Granny!

5) Here’s some food for thought: If an owl was really attacking you, you’d know it.

Multiple owl attacks reported in Springfield

Bored owls are fun owls!

Screen shot 2014-01-15 at 11.15.41 PM

 

 

The Jiven’ Five: 10/9/13

Sorry I’ve been so quiet for the past week or so, but I’ve been busy…wait for it…WORKING. Yep, McCrabby managed to land herself a part-time–possibly temporary– gig. I can’t go into details just yet, BUT it does allow me share my gifts of writing, yapping and telling stories. Of course, the bottom could fall out and I’ll be back to keeping the couch down and yelling at kids to stay out of my liquor cabinet.

1) Ok, if I ever spied a man wearing such a tie, I’d have him arrested. This just screams douchebag.

A sampling courtesy of KickStarter.

A sampling courtesy of KickStarter.

Apparently, this new fangled neck wear is all the rage among …well… I don’t know who or what for that matter. Hmm..maybe I need another image. You know, one that shows the Shortti in action.

(courtesy KickStarter.com)

(courtesy KickStarter.com)

On second thought, I’m gonna have to slap on a big NO on this one.

Next!

2) Umm…..

(via Facebook/Business Insider)

(via Facebook/Business Insider)

I just got off the phone with my lawyer about going into the masturbation facility business. I’m gonna make a wad of cash building places where folks can quietly go blow their wads. And y’all thought I didn’t have any bidness sense. Haters.

Turns out our military industrial complex ain’t too keen on Marines choking the chicken and she-boppin’ all over Afghanistan. In fact, they’re so turned off by it that the powers-that-be concocted the above warning and posted it inside all of the porta-potties on the bases. Some on the inside think it’s a joke with one medic saying that you can’t get anything via semen (well one can get pregnant) unless an open wound happens to be in attendance. Eww. I couldn’t care less if Marines are playing with themselves..seriously. They’re in a shitty part of the world, fighting an even shittier war so why NOT let them diddle their puds every once in a while? Sheesh. It’s the least we can do.

3) I am very curious about this.

Screen shot 2013-10-09 at 9.31.24 AM

 

I’m morbidly curious. There, does that explanation sit better with you?

4) Oh goody. He’s single again.

(via altmalcontent.wordpress.com)

(via altmalcontent.wordpress.com)

Too bad he didn’t have the cajones to JUST age gracefully. He looks like one of my Il Bisonte handbags.

5) You really wanna know why I’m easing into veganism? Here’s one of the many reasons. H/t to Mother Jones.

40 Percent of Your Chicken Nugget Is Meat. The Rest Is…

bones, nerves, skin, feet, eyes, hair, claws, intestines, arteries, Republicans, herpes scabs, pus, scar tissue, Rick Santorum, afterbirth, varicose dick veins, egg shells, Brook Astor’s crotch, Pig Newtons, shedded snake skin, haggis, panty scrape, meconium, Putin’s asscrack sweat, Laplander jiz, Rice-A-Roni, John Boehner’s gin-soaked salty nutsack and pubic lice.

Ok, I went a titch overboard there, but you get the general idea. That shit’s bad for you.

 

 

Cinco Cosas Para 23 de Septiembre 2013

Psych! This ain’t gonna be in Spanish. I don’t speak a lick of it, folks. Sorry.

1) So, I’m getting the feeling that my fellow humans are untrained in the basics of wiping one’s ass. I don’t know if it’s because folks are lazy as all hell these days, or if some feel that someone else should wipe their ass for them, or because they’re just fucking heinous in general. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was example number three.

Instead of folks getting off their lazy asses–so to speak–our friends in the asswipe industry, have come up with a few products to aid in the evil-eye wiping process.

(via Gawker)

(via Gawker)

They’re baby wipes for grownups, and bravo! What a grand idea! However, there’s a problem–you ain’t supposed to flush these things, and as a result, these wipes be cloggin’ up the sewer systems.

Via the AP.

“The problem got so bad in this western New York community this summer that sewer officials set up traps — basket strainers in sections of pipe leading to an oft-clogged pump — to figure out which households the wipes were coming from. They mailed letters and then pleaded in person for residents to stop flushing them.

“We could walk right up, knock on the door and say, ‘Listen, this problem is coming right from your house,'” said Tom Walsh, senior project coordinator at South & Center Chautauqua Lake Sewer Districts, which was dispatching crews at least once a week to clear a grinder pump that would seize up trying to shred the fibrous wipes.”

“My team regularly goes sewer diving” to analyze what’s causing problems, said Trina McCormick, a senior manager at Kimberly-Clark Corp., maker of Cottonelle. “We’ve seen the majority, 90 percent in fact, are items that are not supposed to be flushed, like paper towels, feminine products or baby wipes.”

Let me get this straight–some paper product companies have dudes on staff whose jobs are to set up traps for dirty asswipes, then go to the offending household and tell the denizens of said abode(s) to stop flushing the wipes and perhaps learn how to CLEAN ONE’S DIRTY ANUS WITH ACTUAL TOILET PAPER, YOU KNOW, THAT KIND THAT’S ACTUALLY FLUSHABLE?

Perhaps bidets aren’t such a crazy concept after all.

2) Go for it. I’m not done making fun of you yet, Mrs. Palin.

3) Neil Patrick Harris needs to sit down. I’ve never seen a more self-involved awards show host in my entire life. Due to his over-inflated ego (and the fact that he produced the show), we had to sit through two too many song and dance numbers which eliminated four ACTING categories from last night’s broadcast to make up for time. All of the guest performer awards were given out at the “You’re Not Important Enough for the Real Emmys” event that probably took place in a bathroom in Griffith Park.

(via entertainment.time.com)

(via entertainment.time.com)

Also, very short clips of of the nominees’ performances were shown–you know–like they do during the Oscars. Someone help me out here–the Emmys are an awards show for tee vee performances, yes? The performances are awarded, same with the writing, directing, etc. It’s not a venue for showing off your dancing and comedy chops to the audience. Hey, NPH, there is such a place for that act–tis called a one-man show.

4) See, this is why science is GOOD. It’s VERY, VERY GOOD. We get to learn tidbits like this.

via Discovery.com

Kaboom! Milky Way’s Black Hole Erupted 2 Million Years Ago

(via Discovery.com)

(via Discovery.com)

5) Veep Dickem Cheney got mocked by a dude in a kilt for being a shitty shot.

I’ll just leave this here.

Five for Friday: September 20, 2013

So, I’m going to continue with this Five Things idea for a bit to see where it takes me.

1) I got this little gem via a journo listserv I’m a member of.

“An unnamed digital media company in Chicago seeks stories at $7 a pop.”

I’ll keep the next few sentences simple since I’m sure you’re also in a state of shock due to what you just read. We want four AP style stories a day with a word count hovering around 400 per story. Great communication skills are a must. Please send your resume and 4 clips to fuckthewriter@bohica.com.

After I fashioned a bag of ice over my sore noggin (it’s sore from banging it against the wall after reading the listserv email), I tried to imagine the level of the mind that believes it’s okay to pay a writer a measly $7/post. Why the hell not? Them’s just words! Anyone can do it! You know, that makes total sense so sign me up!

I’d rather eat ground glass.

2) I wanna know the methodology that was used for this study.

Penis Map Of The World Exposes Weenie Size In Each Country

Plus, ain’t it kinda a cool that dong size has little to do with potency? See, that’s how it’s done denizens of certain South American and African countries. Not only are the Indians and Chinese kicking our asses in so many other ways, their wee schvantzes are helping to produce shitloads of humans to ensure that they’ll be kicking our asses for generations to come. In other words, size ain’t an issue … in some instances.

(via rosalie-schweiker.wikispaces.com)

(via rosalie-schweiker.wikispaces.com)

3) This is real. Not kidding.

(via Inquisitr.com)

(via Inquisitr.com)

It’s the latest Boeing 777 in Eva Air’s fleet of flying machines. Eva Air, by the way, is the Taiwanese airline. You can get in touch with your inner-confused hipster who sports ironic tats, facial hair, piercings and fedoras, by taking one of the three flights between Taipei and Los Angeles each week. Then, you can Instagram it, put pix of you acting all goofy inside the plane on one of your many Tumblrs, then get a tat of the plane on your lower back.

4) Now, this tat was on a “20 Tattoos That You Should Get Removed” page. I’m confused though–I don’t see what the problem is.

(via RedCastle83)

(via RedCastle83)

5) Aaaaaaaaaaaand I’ll just leave this here. Enjoy!

Fat-Free Clothing

Over the past week or so, I’ve noticed a great deal of pearl-clutching and knickers getting all twisted over what Mike Jeffries, the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch has said about his brand.

A&F CEO Mike Jeffries

A&F CEO Mike Jeffries

Here’s a sampling of his choady bon mots:

“In every school there are the cool and popular kids, and then there are the not-so-cool kids,” he told the site. “Candidly, we go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends. A lot of people don’t belong [in our clothes], and they can’t belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely. Those companies that are in trouble are trying to target everybody: young, old, fat, skinny. But then you become totally vanilla. You don’t alienate anybody, but you don’t excite anybody, either,” he said.”

People on the Internets and on the tee vee are awfully hot about this and I’m not quite sure why. Yes, he’s a douchebag, that’s easy to see.

But the rest–meh. So? Who cares? So, he wants “hot” people to wear his clothing, and he offended chunky folks in the same statement.

Yeaaaah…I’m still on “So? Who cares?”

Look folks, there are plenty of other clothing options out there to choose from.

Tons.

I don’t see what the big deal is about wearing a brand that NO ONE over the age of 28 should wear. Seriously–if you’re still wearing A&F clothing over that age it proves you’re trying waaaaay too hard, paying waaaaay too much for poorly made rags and you’re clearly lacking in the imagination department.

Also, it’s his company, he can do with it what he wishes. If he wants to alienate a large (and steadily growing) segment of the population, then, that’s all on him. More power to him.

What’s really sad is that folks are offended by the words of businessman who appears to have the emotional intellect of a pre-moisty, pimply high schooler who probably drives a rape van, and who won’t answer the phone unless he’s wearing makeup.

Apparently, he apologized–sort of.

Aaand where am I again? Oh right, holding steady at “So? Who cares?”

Seriously, folks, y’all can find something better to be upset about. If you don’t, send me a message and I’ll give you some ideas.

NEXT!

February Can Blow Me

Well, February did blow but not in the way we all know and love.

I got nothing out of it except that I got to celebrate the 18th anniversary of my 29th birthday with some friends/family (got an iPad out of it–SCORE), learned that I’m a reporter/writer/editor and NOT a research editor. and was provided with even more evidence that I need to live in warmer climes and take bets on hermit crab races.

While I was reeling after the latest shit sandwich of a temp job that ended up with me ‘not being a good fit’ (whatever the fuck that means), a few awesome stories almost got past my radar.

The first is my fave. I don’t know how else to describe this particular yarn except, well, to wonder why I am not a drug addict after reading such a tale.

From Oddity Central.

Indian Sculptor Makes Creepy Bust of Favorite Politician from His Own Blood

My head hurts now.

(courtesy of FooYah.com)

(courtesy of FooYah.com)

Apparently, some loyal constituent in the world’s largest democracy, decided it would be neato to pay homage to his fab fave politico by sculpting a bust of said pol. Nice and not that unheard of in this day and age. However, busts of this sort are normally sculpted out fo marble, or stone or clay. Maybe even shit if certain materials are not abundant.

But, this particular bust was made out of … wait for it … BLOOD. (Thank god my gag reflex has calmed considerably after my years of being bulimic because my computer would be covered in puke right now)

Read on…

“An Indian man known only as Hussaini has recently unveiled a shocking work of art – a bust of J. Jayalalitha, Chief Minister of the Tamil Nadu state, made from 11 litres of frozen human blood, donated by him and 32 of his students.

Apparently, nothing shows admiration for a person like making a creepy sculpture of them from human blood. At least that’s what Hussaini, a sculptor and archery teacher from Chennai, must have thought when he got the idea to create a bust of Chief Minister J. Jayalalitha out of his own frozen blood, for her 65th birthday. The noted artist wanted to thank the politician for being the “most sports loving CM of India” and for her support to his archery association, and since he had a few liters of his own blood stored for special occasions, he decided to put it to good use. You see, Hussaini has had his blood drawn at three-month intervals, over the last eight years, waiting for an opportunity to use it as a medium for his sculpture. But he only had 6.5 liters of blood, and this special project required 11. Luckily, his 32 archery students were more than willing to donate the extra 4.5 liters needed to complete the project.”

Oh no, not just Hussaini’s blood is in this masterpiece, but the blood of his archery students too. There are so many jokes there that my mind can’t handle the overflow, and my stomach is starting to churn, so the need to down Maalox by the gallon starts NOW.

I know you’re all probably wondering how the entire fuck he did this, so grab a pen and paper and write it down. Or, to really get in the mood, you may want to write in your own blood.

“To create his blood sculpture, the artist first created a made one from clay. He then prepared a silicone mold, encased it in a hard outer shell and filled it with the 11 liters of blood. The mold was finally frozen at -27 degrees Celsius, for two months. On the day of the unveiling, Hussaini revealed the other big idea behind his plasma artwork – blood donation. “If I can organize 11 liters of blood, then every other citizen can follow suit and save many lives,” he said.”

I hope Hussaini realizes that donating blood to make art is not the same as donating blood to, you know, save lives.

(Courtesy of New India Express)

(Courtesy of New India Express)

I hope the recipient has proper storage for this since India is not exactly known for its mild climate and low humidities. Ahem. Craaaap–can’t get that image out of my noggin. Fuuuuck.

On a somewhat happy note, the Chief Minister was none too pleased with this tribute and advised Hussaini to never do this again.

I hope he heeds her advice.

The parade of weird continues in the south Pacific.

Indonesian mother kills son over ‘small penis’

From Raw Story.

Apparently, whilst mum was prepping her darling son for his circumcision, she said “Fuck it, I’ll just kill him because his peen is so wee, he’s in for a lifetime of hell because of it.”

And she did.

Nothing else can be said about it by your’s truly here.

According to one of my fave websites, The Sartorialist, these are the penny loafers to own. Of course, they can’t be bought stateside, so you have to wing on over to Milan to purchase them.

(Courtesty of The Sartorialist)

(Courtesty of The Sartorialist)

Not your style, eh? Well shit howdy, at least they ain’t made out of blood–that’s enough to get me to buy ’em and I don’t even wear penny loafers.

All Is Right With the World Again

Really, Jules? How can you say this–especially after you experienced a quick & painful hiccup in your non-existent career yesterday?

iggy_pop_and_the_stooges-hollywood_palladium_ACY6879

Well, here’s why.

From Rolling Stone.

Iggy Pop and the Stooges Ready New Album for April Release

‘Ready to Die’ features guitarist James Williamson, drummer Scott Asheton

Now, this makes me smile.

See, my three readers, 2013 was starting to look like yet another shitty year for McCrabass until I heard this news. I saw Iggy a long time ago in LA and it was quite the show–he was loud, crude-as-fuck and just plain out of control. It was one of the best times I’ve ever experienced standing up. I mean, I almost tossed my granny knickers at him, but was afraid he’d put them on and they’d be too big. He’s alluring in an ugly-sexy kinda way–if that makes any sense.

So, when I heard my favorite skanky, blue-eyed boy & the Stooges were releasing an album–some 40 years after the last one with James Williamson and Scott Asheton–I did a slow nod and muttered to my empty living room “Niiiice.” Yeah, very un-Iggy-esque but I gave up heroin before I even started and my leathers are being repaired.

IggyPopStooges

Iggy Pop and the Stooges are ready with a new record, Ready to Die, which will mark the first time Pop has worked with guitarist James Williamson and drummer Scott Asheton on a full album since their 1973 classic Raw Power. As he’s done since the Stooges’ 2003 reunion, Mike Watt will fill in for the late Ron Asheton on bass. It’ll be Iggy and the Stooges’ first album since 2007’s The Weirdness, which was the last to feature Ron Asheton. Ready to Die is due April 30th on Fat Possum Records.

I don’t like to wish my life away, but April 30th can’t come soon enough. That’s kind of sad–I’m sliding down Crap Mountain again and I’m looking forward to an album release like I’m some sort of love-struck teenie bopper.

I need a do-over.

 

 

The Scent of Love?

Let me put it this way–for Valentine’s Day, I’d rather have a case of the clap than a case of this here perfume.

(courtesy NY Daily News)

(courtesy NY Daily News)

Turns out, our friendly neighbors to the north, found it necessary to invent perfume that smells like pizza. No, no..they couldn’t do something fun and useful like conjure up Eau de Geddy or a Maggie Trudeau Blow-Up Doll, they had to be all stinkin’ weird and marry one of my most favorite products in the world–perfume–with shit-tastic Pizza Hut pizza.

Kurt Kane, CMO of Pizza Hut, said: “Eau de Pizza Hut is one of the most sought-after and rarest of scents available.”

Sure it is–and not to mention–the most heinous.

Wankers.

However, the Canucks are not alone in creating crappy perfume (I’m looking at you, deader-than-dead Elizabeth Taylor and your Eau de Trailerpark-White Diamonds). The French–the arbiters of great taste, cheese, making B.O & hairy armpits on ladies sexy and haute couture, have really created a real sandwich a la merde. One of my fave parfumeurs, L’Artisan Parfumeurs created a scent–Dzing!–that smells like the circus. Apparently, it’s a soupcon of carny sweat, crazy, elephant dung (top notes), and lion semen, cotton candy and rotting hay (bottom notes). Of course, I don’t know if these really are the actual scents in this potion, but I refuse to go within a block of a bottle of this stuff. I mean, YUCK. Picture 8I hope my ultimate fave, Jo Malone, doesn’t follow suit.

Pizza stank isn’t the only scent that has been bottled and sold to the sheeple. Breathe in this one, folks.

Eau de Black Angus Anus anyone?

Picture 9

I’ve never been a fan of Valentine’s Day, and my reasons are a-plenty, and I won’t go into them here. The only redeeming quality this day has is it shares the same month as my birthday, which means I usually get half-price Valentine’s candy for birthday presents. Yep, I’m really winning in that respect.

I think Valentine’s Day is the champion of making all people–singletons, marrieds and smug marrieds–feel like crap. People rarely get what they want on Valentine’s Day, and not everyone looks good in red.

But, I’ll probably celebrate it in that inimitable McCrabass style: By going to a nice restaurant, getting my drink on then flashing mah boobs at my fellow patrons. And, if they don’t like it well, tough titties.

What $500 Worth of Crap Looks Like

Melissa sent me this earlier today with the following note: “We could create something like that!”

(courtesy Anthropologie.com)

(courtesy Anthropologie.com)

Ahhhh…Sweet Melissa, no we could not. No. In fact, I couldn’t give you a bigger NO on this one, dearest.

Seriously. If George Clooney showed up allllll nekkid at my skeezy apartment wearing ONLY THIS FUGLY AS FUCK “THING”, I’d have to kick the living shit out him for having such horrid taste. See, my three readers, that speaks volumes because in my sass-n-bitchified opinion, the Cloonster is about as hot as a man can possibly be.

Look–here’s some proof of the above statement–

(Courtesy Tailgate365.com)

(Courtesy Tailgate365.com)

Enough of the handsome man diversion and back to WHY we don’t do crap. Where was I? Oh, right…here..yeah…right THERE…yeah..that’s it..ooohh…yessss… a little to the left … yeah, you hit it…

Yeah..you WISH.

You know why? Because we can’t, don’t and won’t create crap. I’m not into making crap like this because it goes against every fiber of my McCrabass being. I know, I know…considering some of the stuff I’ve created on this here blog, creating this type of crap would probably be a step up for me. Ha! Y’all are the apex of clever, my monosyllabic critics. Gag me with $500 worth of crap.

Of course, someone or someTHING needs to be blamed for this circle of wire, rope, prayers and crap: Insecure broads with too much cash and little to no taste, and the crafting industry and places the promote crafty-crap like Pinterest and Etsy.

Crafters of the world, I have a message for you: Cut it out. Yes, Stop making crafts.

Why?

Because you SUCK at it. You SUCK OUT LOUD at it. No one wants to see it, feel it, love it, ooh & aaah over it, or buy it. They’re just being nice to you because, once upon a time, you were some sort of high-falutin’ exec with an expense account who heard via some oracle like Oprah that it’s ok to follow your dreams.

So you quit your day job, went to Bali for “inspiration”, bought some stencils, a glue gun, oddly colored feathers, and some vintage cashmere sweaters and decided to repurpose your life. Then, your life went down the shitter quick because even your family of hamfatters couldn’t fake liking your craptacular creations anymore, demanded that you get over it and for the love of PETE, get your fucking job back! But nooo…you didn’t listen because you’re following your dreams! Now because of your dreams, your husband is schtupping his assistant AND for good measure, her husband too. Oh and your kids, god love ’em, have followed in your footsteps in a way ,and are cooking meth in the trunks of their cars for lunch money and to pay for things like Girl Scouts.

In other words, Anthropologie is a twat for selling this.

Cycling’s Saviour?

Now that the one-balled, lying, scheming, former hide-the-sausage-partner of Sheryl Crow’s, and infamous doper–AKA Lance Armstrong–has managed to sully not only hard-working, non-doped-up athletes everywhere, he’s also championed turning the drug dump that is known as the Tour de France into an event that’s on par with the Summer Redneck Games.

Sports analysts have been griping and whining about how Armstrong has ruined everything EVER, and have also pondered if the once-prestigious sporting event can ever be saved. (Side note: A possible solution? Allow doping, but add a wrinkle & make the event tougher and more dangerous as a test to see whose dope is dope, yo.)

Here’s my thought–make allll of the participants wear one of these–even if they win a stage. Fuck that maillot jaune prentious horse hockey.

productimage-picture-peewee-herman-comedy-podium-suit-cycling-bicycle-bike-2588Can’t quite place the outfit?

This may help:

pee-wees-big-adventure-1985-paul-reubens-pic-1The competitors should also wear white Bucs, be shorn like this and ride bikes just like PW’s, but only if they want to. But, they should style their fancy bikes to look like his bike.

What I would give to see this, but spinning along the lavender fields of Provence:

pee-wee-herman-in-the-olympicsThere is hope for this world.