Wednesday, March 28, 2012

I Never Did Get an Invitation to that Party with the Haitians

I know that Cher Horowitz was not the best student, but I always found her charming, and I was able to attribute her endearing form of flakiness to the silliness of adolescence. Besides, she seemed nice enough--working to establish that Pismo Beach disaster fund and all.

But now, Cher is an adult--an adult who has given birth to a child named Bear Blu. She has also taken to chronicling her care of that child, posting the following video of her and Bear's quirky dinner routine:

I don't know about all of you, but I know it is quite unlikely that I will ever teach Baby Bear, or Teenage Bear, or Young Adult Bear. But I know that someone, somewhere will. And I feel very, very, very bad for that person.

Here's a link to the full article for a little, um, flava.


  1. From the glossary:

    Just a smidgen of the real thing; usually used to refer to a snippet of a linked article.

  2. Reg W.,

    Hmmm . . . I don't really know how to take that comment. For starters, I think that my eyesight has been compromised by the video above, thus simultaneously compromising my ability to read (the glossary).

    Also, this.

  3. Actually, I'm sorry. That looks like I'm an asshole, but I'd ask you just to chalk it up to the fact that I'm grading right now, and I'm in error-spotting mode. It's not a big deal, of course. I like the trappings of the community, the inside jokes, the language, the terms.

    The whole article isn't flava - in the manner, as Yaro says. See, it's unimportant. Sorry to be a nudge.

  4. I just threw up a little in my mouth. Too bad there isn't a Bear Blu to feed it to.

  5. Yeah, flava in the context of the post was indeed punny. And, please, a shout out to myself for my favorite RYS-era name, Nicholas Nothaughty.

    And as a side note, Nothaughty took a lot of heat at times in the old days, but he hung in, and I've enjoyed reading his perspective ever since.

    1. ...I have always read that as "NotNaughty." Always. Even when he's been, sometimes, naughty.

  6. Bear, you're young and for a while, you won't know any better how to behave. Your mom probably only lets you play with kids of other weirdo parents. It's not your fault. Let me share with you something that you will not understand now but I hope you keep close to your heart until you are older and emotionally mature enough to handle it.

    Humans do not eat "a delicious breakfast of miso soup, collards and radish steamed and drizzled with flax oil, cast iron mochi with nori wrapped outside, and some grated daikon."

    Humans eat things like biscuits and gravy. And it is Manna.

    Now, your mom may think all things flow from some Earth Goddess or Mama of the Universe, which is cool. In fact, I learned to make biscuits and gravy when I was six from my great grandmother. So there are actually a lot of similarities we can build on here.

    Let me lay down some more wisdom for you. Again, don't try to understand this now, Bear. You make biscuits with your own hands. Real earthy, back to nature, right. Or at least you could make them. By the time my great grandmother taught me, she was using biscuits from a can. This is even more amazingly wonderful. You just whack the can against the edge of the countertop and POP!, out gushes biscuits, ready for the oven. Truly, we live in an splendiferous world.

    OK, there's one more thing. Since I told you about biscuit cans, you need to also know something else I learned when I was six. No matter how hard you hit the can against your sister, it will not pop open. And it really pisses off Great Gramma so be careful.

    Good luck Bear. You'll need it.

  7. I've actually got a big problem with the whole brouhaha about this - it WAS (not really the case anymore, although it does still happen) quite common in aboriginal communities, with the grandmother feeding the little kids pre-masticated meat (important in a hunter-gatherer diet in the far north that leans much more towards meat, often raw, rather than soft boiled vegetables etc). But, the discussion on the feeding technique itself really doesn't involve The Misery.

  8. It's called a blender, mommy.


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