Category Archives: photo paffoonies

February 11, 2015 · 1:49 pm

Goofy Days

I struggled to get started today… weird clouds covered the pinks and purples of a Dallas dawn as I stumbled through walking the dog. I think I mentioned before, I believe, that our goofy dog (who fortunately does not wear a hat and drive a car, so she is not a Goofy dog) has become a record-setting poop factory, pooping out five times a day and producing what I suspect is actually five times her own weight in doggy poo in a single day. If only it were worth money! I felt ill with an acrobatic stomach doing inner flip-flops while trying to transport twenty pounds of poop to the trash can. My arthritis made my joints crackle and walking was a total pain. But I made it. I walked the dog… deposited the poop…made breakfast for two kids… eggs for one, sausage for the other (I am not so much a dad as I am a short-order cook at breakfast time)… I avoided talking about religion or politics… I dropped them both off at school… and then I went back to bed. I woke up in time to hop in the car again and pick them up from their early release day. And on early release days they don’t feed the kids even though they don’t release them until after the noon hour. So rather than cook again… Taco Bueno! It is overpriced and really bad for you… especially with an upset stomach… but, hey, we didn’t have much food left in the pantry anyway. So, in spite of feeling like sudden death by heart attack would be a blessing… I made it through the morning of a weird and wacky, goofy, goofy day. And now my work for the day was nominally done. So I sat down and tried to think of a post for this blog. (44 days in a row with at least one post, you know) No luck. I couldn’t think of anything to write. And my schedule of ideas took way to much work to use on a goofy day. So, I took a picture of my toys… some of them… and tried to tell myself that I could turn that into a worthy post. The evidence is clear, however… I most certainly could not.

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Filed under goofiness, humor, photo paffoonies

Tagged as goofiness, humor, photo Paffooney

February 1, 2015 · 3:37 pm

Clean Gene the Cleaning Genii

Yes, I am a mess… an unmitigated, ten-year-old-tuna-salad-sandwich-on-the-floor sort of mess. Cleaning is difficult. I have arthritis which makes movement difficult. I have diabetes which saps my energy and makes me constantly ill. I have four other incurable diseases as well, hypertension, BPH (benign prostatic hyperplasia), psoriasis, and COPD (chronic obstructed pulmonary disorder). I can’t move. I can’t breathe. And there are long periods of time when I can’t even think. I do have a great deal of free time, however, because I was forced to retire from teaching for physical reasons, and having 31 years of experience in the books gives me a full pension negotiated back in the eighties when teachers weren’t universally reviled as money-sponge parasites the way they are now. (Texas Education has always run on the philosophy that teachers can achieve way more for far less money if you are properly mean to them and bully them and make them worry about being fired for low test scores enough that they won’t stop to think and possibly remember that they also have rights as a human being). So my bedroom art-and-writing studio is total chaos. And I am beginning to believe that I must clean it before some part of the biomass absorbs enough magical energy to become sentient and eats me in the night.

I made a resolution to clean it. Of course, wifey won’t help me. She unreasonably points out that since I can no longer share a room because of my chronic pain and numerous ailments, the mess is all made by me and she has no guilt or shame coming to her from not cleaning it for me. She has her own mess and her own ailments to worry about. And I live with two of my three children still in the house, but both, unfortunately teenagers now, and both making twice or three times the mess that I do. They too unreasonably refuse to clean up any messes they didn’t specifically (and provably) make themselves. The dog actually helped with the old tuna sandwich thingy. I think she killed it and ate it while it was contemplating growing legs. But she has been little use to me for putting books back on shelves, picking up smelly socks (without eating them), and folding clean laundry.

So, it all boils down to me getting up the stiff resolve to do ten or fifteen minutes of cleaning at a time as many times a day as I can manage and cleaning it myself. Of course, I found a mysterious old bottle with some kind of imp in it. I have been rubbing it really, really hard and trying to make a genii appear. I can wish the room clean… right after the wish for a bazillion dollars and a brand-new teenage body… um, how many wishes do I get? I might like to turn wifey into a Jessica Alba clone. And I could use a new car… I need to keep looking under the bed. Maybe there are TWO bottles like that!

Maybe I shouldn’t be revealing what my inner sanctum looks like at the moment. Yes, that might be a huge mistake. But I am old and ill and nothing much really seems that big a deal any more. And, besides, I am looking forward to posting post-cleaning-frenzy pictures to impress you with how much everything has changed. (Yeah, that will happen.)

Sanctuary

This is my library, the place where I keep my books. It is also a place for my doll collection and the Dungeons and Dragons game that I’ve been playing with my kids for more than a decade. It is a place to read and think and… oh, yeah, there’s an X-Box also. Well, that’s one way to get the kids to spend time there too.

I do realize what a jumbled mess it is. The shelves are all cheap Walmart kits that I built myself. Some have been damaged over time and travel. I have rebuilt them, restocked them, and rearranged them time and again.

This reading nook is currently being used to display parts of my Captain Action collection. The Captain America costume on the left is my original property from Christmas 1967. The Steve Canyon costume next to it is an E-bay purchase and a rare find from a decade ago. Aquaman is a combination. The mask, trident,conch horn, and swim fins are from my original set from Christmas 1966. The suit itself had to be replaced from E-Bay because I played with it until it was no more than a mass of frayed thread. The gloves come from a innovative toy company called Classic Plastick run by Wes McCue. http://classicplastick.proboards.com/ You may notice cups and junk left by kids in my library. Cheetos wrappers from food that my daughter the Princess loves are often found crammed in between the books.

This alcove is where I store my customized Star Wars’ Twi’leck Barbie which I made myself with acrylic paint, Sculpey plasticine, exacto-knife, and Crazy Glue. It also is where I store my antique book collection, some of which are a hundred years old or more. (I have books from my Grandparents’ libraries as well as some from my own childhood.)

Let me show you the Star Wars shelf. (It is not big enough for all my twelve-inch Star Wars action figures, but… oh, well.

Here is the back side of the shelf. (How did topless Mermaid Barbie get in there?)

I also have a corner for the X-Box and the TV it is attached to. (But Dr. Evil is holding it hostage at this writing.)

And finally, let me bore you with the fact that the small upstairs bedroom that is now the library does not have enough room to contain all my books. The library also fills up the upstairs hall and large portion of my bedroom/studio.

It has been said that my library is as cluttered as my mind is. But don’t you believe it. My inner world makes this manifestation in the outer world look Spartan by comparison.

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Filed under autobiography, doll collecting, Paffooney, photo paffoonies

Tagged as action figures, autobiography, book collecting, books, doll collecting, goofiness, library, library tour, photo Paffooney

January 5, 2015 · 11:31 pm

Nutsy Noodle is Playing with Dolls Again

Today, while buying food for the dog, I bought another toy. I was going through the bargain shelves at Wal-Mart where the toys that didn’t fully survive the Christmas rush were being sold off at bargain prices. Barbie dolls and girly stuff get opened and trashed far more often than action figures, so that’s exactly what I found. (Okay, not exactly… but it is girly stuff… and it’s enough Barbie-like that I can buy it for the Barbie shelf… unless I have to start calling myself a Brony… oh, shudder… not that!)

Confession time: It is Rainbow Dash, an Equestria Girl doll. (I know, I know… Mutant My Little Pony critters that have been somehow radioactively transformed into a junior-high-type girl-thing/mutant horror. Complete with radioactively enhanced cuteness genes.) And it was not mint in package (the sacred goal of collectors), it was trash that Wal-Mart sold to me instead of throwing her in the garbage. There was damage to the box as some goofy little girl (or even more worrisome, little boy) had tried to pull out pieces to steal. Unlike Pinkie Pie, though, Rainbow still had all her limbs and accessories. Here she is with a relatively unscathed back of the package.

The second picture is for dramatic lighting effects.

She also has all three attachable/detachable pony tails… but no actual way to attach them to her derriere like a proper pony.

I realize I haven’t yet solved for you the real mystery; “Why did Nutsy Noodle spend money on a garbage-pail, throwaway toy that his beloved daughter, the Princess, is now too old to play with and doesn’t even want?” Well, I collect dolls, you see, and a very valuable part of this purchase was the salvage that laymen (a term that here means “sane people” that don’t buy unwanted toys) don’t realize are valuable.

These little clear-plastic bands can be used in a multitude of ways when displaying the “action figure” in question. They hold plastic phasers in otherwise klunky doll hands. Accessories are held in place. My forty-year-old Captain Action Superman needs them to hold the split in his red, blue, and gold tights together, thus saving his privates (which here means exposed joints) from freezing off. To buy these things separately would cost more than Rainbow Dash cost to rescue from the trash. I salvaged ten of them from her package.

Besides. I had a strange urge to play with her.

No! No! No! It’s not what you are thinking. Besides, you can clearly see that her body is molded with built-in underwear! It’s just that, um, with dolls like this (even G.I. Joe’s when you’re talking twelve-inch), part of the fun is changing their wardrobe. I had to see if I was wrong about the clothing from Skipper and Stacie (Barbie’s Sisters) fitting. And they do.

Isn’t that precious? She flew over to sit on my hat. Of course, Stacie’s friend, Janet, didn’t think so. She is mad and threatens to beat the crap out of Rainbow if she doesn’t get her clothes back. No way will she ever trade for that horrible rainbow-stew-thing of a dress that RD came in. And besides, that dress is only two pieces, and easily copied in some color far less vomit-inducing. Of course, my sewing machine is still quite broken.

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Filed under doll collecting, humor, photo paffoonies

Tagged as action figures, Brony-ness, collectibles, doll collecting, goofiness, humor, it better be humor!, photo Paffooney

January 3, 2015 · 5:17 pm

An Overdose of Cheerios

I was trying to think what I would post today, and coming up blank. I have a pathological need to keep posting here, especially since my brain is currently switched to editing mode for my novel The Magical Miss Morgan. One can’t keep a sacred oath to write every day if there is no writing going on other than editing (which doesn’t count because no new creative thoughts are being generated and the fertile spore-producing areas of my mental storage shed may grow sterile for want of fresh garbage being piled there). So I went looking through my file of photo Paffoonies to find something I haven’t already inflicted on potential readers to the point of making them gag and doing something sensible like shutting off their computer for a while. Unfortunately all I found was this potential gag-inducing library photo of the time the Mighty Thor got drunk on overripe Cheerios and milk and decided to commit cave-man love on beautiful topless mermaid Barbie. (I know… topless and in the possession of a fifty-eight-year-old man… kinda creepy… but honest, I am intending to make a shell bra with real sea shells and just haven’t gotten around to it yet, though I have the shells selected and the material cut. My sewing machine is broken. Yeah, that’s my story… and I’m sticking to it). (Goodness! That last parenthetic expression is the fifteenth longest one I have ever written!)

The picture was taken moments before the hammer came down to bonk her lightly on the brain. Fortunately, this is Barbie we are talking about, and the excess air inside her plastic head probably saved her from fatal brain damage. She was one of a half dozen naked Barbie dolls I rescued from Goodwill. She is grateful for any attention she gets nowadays and responded to Thor’s drunken love tap by falling madly in love with him. She chased the god of thunder all around the library that day to give him a big, fat mermaid smooch on the lips (or is that “big, fat, mermaid smooch on the lips”? …because she’s not a fat mermaid). She would have caught him too, but the mermaid fin-dress that I also found in a resale bargain store caused her to have to hop, and my messy library has so many un-filed books on the floor that she kept tripping and falling flat on her… face (yes, the face would’ve obviously hit the floor first, right?).

A week later I caught him obviously thinking about doing it again.

She likes to sunbathe in front of the Cheerios box that holds up one of the shelves on a nearby book case where the nails are coming loose. (I have fixed it since the picture was taken and used the Cheerios box full of sand to hold up something else entirely.)

I bought a mind-reading app for my digital camera and applied it to this photo because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he might be thinking about doing it again. I threw the moldy old discarded bowl of Cheerios away because… well, you know that spoiled milk smell, right? So, it couldn’t be that again. Anyway, here’s the processed picture because this is the end of this daily post. I have passed 550 words already.