All posts by Licketysplit

In the nudes

Uncategorized, , ,

Now that we’re back at the news desk here at Vomitola, propping our feet up and adjusting our green visors, we aim to please! I see from our top searches that all you people have wanted for the past three years is pictures of Adam Ant.

Adam Ant Bio

Well, my little libertines, your wish is our command. We aim to please! We are friend, not foe. Anyway, clicky clicky on that fine image above, and you will purchase yourself a fine copy of Mr. Ant’s autobiography from Amazon. From this we will receive approximately 3 cents. A Place in the Country will soon be ours! We’ll call it Hell’s Eight Acres.

This book is a corker, rest assured. The review blurb calls it ‘A whirlwind story of sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, suicide attempts and deranged stalkers.’ We really ought to sue the book for borrowing so liberally from our own life stories, but that’s a bit too long for a good tagline, so we let them live.

Here is Adam Ant holding a baby in 1993:
Adam Ant - hmv 150 Oxford Street, London 1993

In Vomitola canon law, Adam and the Ants are a political party, historically in opposition to the Morrissey party. In a final insult back in ought-four, The Ants banished the Morrisseys to Canada. So one might imagine that Morrissey should be properly chagrined to discover Adam Ant’s baby-holding antics predated his by a good 15 years:

Morrissey holds a baby

Is that the same baby? How is this possible? This baby is not cowed by Morrissey, however. He sees right through Morrissey’s stance. Adam Ant is laughing all the way to the Human Bondage Den.

Frankly, we’re also a little concerned that our readership apparently hasn’t heard of Google Images for your Ant needs. Here, allow me:  http://lmgtfy.com/?q=adam+ant+pictures

But thanks for stopping in! Next time I’ll put the kettle on.

We’re still here

Uncategorized, ,

Whoa. *Blinks* After we retired from professional blogging in 2005, we decided to find our true calling. We’d grown tired of the endless public scrutiny. How many E! specials does one need, anyway?

People have opinions

So we worked up a good head of steam and stumbled into the time machine, and after things stopped spinning and blinking, we chanted 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 Schlemiel! Schlimazel! Hasenpfeffer Incorporated! And off to work we went. Might as well see what it’s like to earn an honest living.

It turns out we are not cut out for honest living. So we set the time machine for Atlantic City in the early aughts.

This turned out to be a bad, bad idea. We got into a makeup application fight, which led to a slap fight, and Lambchop pointed out just how deformed my face is in photos. So we split up, which involved a team of doctors from the Mayo Clinic, and we tried alternate pursuits.

Lambchop sought employ as a lingerie Scrabble model.

I set out on a tramp steamer, as I have always been fond of sailors.

Lambchop’s modeling career was thwarted by the Communists at Hasbro. She retreated to her thinking grotto and fasted for minutes before seizing upon the perfect answer: service to the Lord!

Bad_Habits

Needless to say, this didn’t last. Then someone foolishly entrusted me with an au pair position. Turns out those little human critters bite! They can’t even talk!

But we couldn’t stay away from each other, considering that legally we are conjoined twins.

We agreed to meet for book club in our favorite makeshift chamber of horrors.

The dumpster has a false bottom, very sly. Lollies were shared, confetti and cookies were tossed.

So we’re tanned, rested, and ready, swanning around the makeshift chamber of horrors, and we await a redemptive David Letterman appearance. Call us, bb. I can’t believe you fell for our carefully choreographed absence! You didn’t believe we’d really WORK, did you?

We’re also blogging about the sordid lives of BEDBUGS over at www.nixbedbugs.com! And shockingly, that bit is true. It was either that or play Farmville professionally.

This the kinda of shit that you bump to get drunk to

Uncategorized, , , ,

I dunno, my baser instincts suggest I make jokes about how National Buy Nothing Day will be pretty easy for so many more Americans this year, but that is so wrong. It’s not nice. I like buying stuff and so do you! May we all take advantage of deep discounts on melamine-free items.

I was just saying to my moosie relation, who may or not be writing on her personal internet homepage again, that ….uh what the hell was I saying. Let me ask, er, review the logs. Yes, OK. I am seeing way more straight up gratitude posts today versus the usual smallpox blanket jokes. This must be a function of a bad economy, like hemlines getting longer. I beg to differ on that point in the article about people cutting their hair shorter when the market drops. Their cuts must not top a c-note. Me, I am growing mine out, and it looks fantastic. I still go every 6 weeks, though, because who wants split ends? It’s not the apocalypse.

This year, I am thankful that I played a twenty minute command drum solo on a Wednesday morning instead of going to a real job (I worked last week, so I am off the hook til I get the urge to buy stuff again). I am grateful that my child is a brilliant little beast, even if it means she is going to come up with shit even I never fathomed when she is a teenager. I am pleased that Mr. H got a job with a mere twenty minute commute. I am pleased I did not throw up today, despite initial leanings (seriously, WTF is wrong with me). A Cat did not throw up and only bit me two or four times. So much is right, right, right, despite living on an Indian Burial Ground. I mean, it’s sort of like living in a giant fridge box, but with climate control and indoor plumbing. Those things are OK by me. I am thankful to be Facebook friends with YOU! I am thankful my sister never got a Taz tattoo, you betcha. Hey, my kid hasn’t bothered me in ten minutes, and I have to go see about that. I am thankful she can’t reach the knife block. Yet.

Trouble Loves Me

Uncategorized, , , ,

I woke up on election day wide awake, thinking “I get to vote!” Normally I laze about as long as possible, cramming a pillow over my head to drown out the little creatures and their pesky whining for food. Learn to work a can opener. Bootstraps and all. But damn, do I love voting. All the ballot questions even went my way for a change. I love paying taxes, love pot, and hate people with jobs. My sister hates the schools, but her question lost. Have fun with the slaaaaaahts.

Yesterday, I woke up, and my first thought was “Barack Obama is going to be the president.” What an amazing feeling. Whenever something went wrong, and many things did go wrong yesterday, I thought of that.

I took the whinier of the two little creatures out to buy newspapers, and there was not a single Times to be found in my town. They don’t hold with fancy walking around here. These sidewalks are for regular walking. I got one Boston Globe, the local rag, and a Boston Herald (headline: “O baby”). Keep it classy, world.

Then I was struck down with a pestilence. Either that or my body is purging the last eight years like one of those “as seen on TV” cleanses. I got verklempt during the speeches on election night, of course, but everything did not really hit me until I found myself bawling in the shower yesterday morning. This arresting image popped into my head, and all was lost. Maybe it’s only arresting if you have a small human of the same age, but surely you can project a bit.

I ended up with a full-blown migraine, even making good on the vomitola. I lurch and spew for you! I spent the rest of the day and night draped over various soft surfaces, moaning and swatting away the child trying to climb on me. There was sitcom-style drama with Mr. H attempting to bring an ex-girlfriend home for dinner. Nothing against her, I’d just prefer not to be encrusted in my own filth when I host! Called a friend in Virginia to hear tales of “I thought it was called the WHITE house, hur hur hur,” from her co-workers. Some say the best way to diffuse a racist joke is to play dumb, so I don’t get it. What does that mean? Can you be more specific? I’m sorry, I still don’t understand. Why is that funny?

Anyway, my head still hurts today, and I seem to have blown through all the expired vicodin. Maybe the pain is something to do with those 55 million folks who thought it would be OK to have Sarah Palin next in line to run the country. Maybe I am channeling the angst of people thrown in jail indefinitely without a trial. I nunno!

Also: WTF, California, Arkansas, Arizona, and Florida. Especially Arkansas, actually. We get to hear all this pap about how gay couples can enjoy all the same legal rights as a married couple with a little finagling, but now they can’t adopt children?
At least Connecticut gets a pat on the back for dissing Question 1, plus chasing the last Republican in Congress out of New England. Lotta work to do out there. I’ll be the one in dark glasses, whimpering softly.

I Have Forgiven Jesus

Uncategorized, ,

Abba gabba gabba. Eeeba deeedle dabba.

Well, we ranted, we donated, we nagged, we discovered Morrissey song titles apply to any electoral situation, and we even knew the name of the Prime Minister of Canada. I don’t know what’s left, besides setting a trash can on fire and tipping a car. I am in shock. OK, Sarah, keep moving. Do not stop at the microphone. Nope! There we go. And never, ever make fun of community organizers again. Ah, you feel me.

Ankles aloft, mes amis! I need a hanky and a can of champagne! We will see you in the future when all’s well.

I Want the One I Can’t Have

Uncategorized, , ,

I was practicing folksy cussing in case I need it (Shitwickets! Twattarnit! Bullfumbles! There is an elbow gesture that goes with these.). But I am cautiously optimistic that I won’t really need to deploy this.

Fox News is going out on a limb and calling Ohio for McCain, despite everyone else, um, not. ABC just called it for Obama. I am holding out for open, unguarded weeping once we work through merely crotchety. Oh, the Fox News website just recanted. It is hard to be you, Fox News! There is a word for what is happening to you. Wait, it will come to me.

Should I photoshop little Obama heads on all the blue states and Morrissey heads on the red ones? Y/N before I drink more.

Let the Right One Slip In

Uncategorized, ,

We break from chewing on our nails for a “man on the street” interview with our own Lambchop.

“You got a donut??? Damn, I would have liked one of those! I would have voted for sanctity of life or marriage or fetal minimum wage for an old fashioned.”

Here she is, enjoying a free cone. Don’t worry, Monchichi! You can still make the rounds. In fact, you can do it even if you don’t vote! I am fairly sure she hadn’t even voted yet when this photo was taken. It also appears to have been taken in Italy, and there’s got to be something illegal about that. What would Karl Rove say about this?

In actual news, Obama appears to be leading in Indiana, with 0.0000435237384% of the polls reporting. Mr. H is on his way home with a brown paper sack full of refreshment.

Well I wonder

Uncategorized,

I know you all tuned in to see just what Morrissey thinks of these elections. Well, our crack team has uncovered rare footage.

In the next frame (not pictured), he walked offstage with Bill Ayers, Tony Rezko, and Dick Cheney and hatched a plot to dispatch Joe Biden swiftly. Good luck with that. Our Joe takes the train. He is wise to shenanigans. I bet he sits in the same seat every time, and heaven help you if you try to plant your ass on his workingman’s fief.

Now, be ye mindful: Morrissey also endorsed John Kerry in 2004, and look how that turned out. However, Lambchop writes in from her position at the desk to mention that the Pittsburgh Steelers demonstrated great oracular power in trouncing the Redskins on Monday night. 23-6! Ooooooh. That’s bad like losing your home state bad (AL GORE). Clearly this means curtains for the incumbent party.

Or is it: Vincent Rossmeier of Salon reminds us “After the Green Bay Packers beat the Redskins in 2004, thus supposedly ensuring an election victory for John Kerry, Packers safety Darren Sharper, a Kerry supporter, said of his candidate, “Oh, yeah, he’s going to win. It’s guaranteed. I don’t have to vote now. Don’t even have to go to the polls. Saved me a trip on Tuesday.””

I think this might have been our problem in 2004. We forgot to vote! Lambchop and I got in a makeup application contest, and those never end well. But today I voted, you betcha. I have been having paranoid fantasies that I filled in the wrong oval, but I was very good at the SATs, so this is somewhat unlikely.

We will return after covering a tense stand-off on the home front. 50% of this household refuses to put on pants. It’s getting cold. Jesus, just put them on.

Damn it feels good to be a gangster

Uncategorized, , , ,

Oh, uh uh, oh no we di’n’t. It’s time for Vomitola election coverage! You may recall that election day 2004 started off seemingly humdrum and ended with a vicious clash between the Morrisseys and Adam and the Ants (start reading from the bottom up. we can’t have nice things). We hit some dead air later that night around Ohio, and man, were we hung over the next day. We may be hungover tomorrow, but I pray it is a hangover of joy.

We’re reusing the graphic, but that’s only because we are poor. It has nothing to do with environmentalism. That’s for sissies like Al Gore.

I managed to vote bright and early, and the good ol’ Masonic Temple was packed. Everyone casually dropped mention of how ready they were for CHANGE, and how we NEED it without directly saying OBAMA RULES. Why are people so afraid to say “Suck it, you culture warring freaks, not this time?” You still get free Starbucks and Krispy Kreme and Ben & Jerry’s even if you let your true Socialist-mandating nature fly free. Although Mr. H reports from the field that riots may occur at Starbucks because people cannot understand why they only get free drip coffee and not grande lattes. What was I saying yesterday about running into doors?