Sprung

I'm out of blogjail! In the middle of the night, Ulric showed up with a vintage "Get Out of Jail Free" card from his Bradopoly set. The jailer was furious, but there was nothing he could do. A Get Out of Jail Free card is non-negotiable.

It's such a relief to be out. I am grateful (in a gruff, hairy way, of course, that is not mushy in any shape or form) for all of you who lobbied for my release. Hitman J, I looked all over for the sign with the two clamps, but I didn't see it. I heard some clanking during the night from my cell-neighbor down the way, followed up a shouts of "Yippee!" so I suspect that person was the one who had your cell.

Friday and Lady K, thank you for all of the cannoli. Three dozen wasn't quite enough to give me a stomachache, but I had a fun time trying. Nonny, thank you for all of your petitions, though I really don't know what you meant by "harmless." I'm harmful. A menace to society, that's what I am... whoops, I'd better keep a low profile for a few days. You're right, though, in that Hitman J needs to take a photo of himself in his new finery.

Mr Pudding, I appreciate all of the ballpoint pens you sold to free me. Unfortunately, the Monkey didn't have a get out of jail free card, but fortunately, he wasn't in jail in the first place.

And finally, one more note to Lady K: "Use the money from tee-shirt sales," you said. Woman, are you crazy?! That's for the helicopter fund. Thwup, thwup, thwup.

I'm in Blogjail

I am writing from jail. Blogjail, to be exact. I am allowed one 10 minute blog post before they cart me away. Please come visit me, and bring bail, too. Last night, I was busted for falsely representing myself as an erew-folk (more specifically, "Hitman B") with the intent of getting people to divest their cannoli supplies to me. I had gotten the idea from my Landlady's blog with the onset of the new moon. I would convince you all I was undergoing a metamorphoses into Hitman B, and the only cure would be large plates of cannoli. My Landlady got wind of the scheme, told her friends, and then before I knew it, the Blogpolice showed up. They were ruthless. They took my cannoli away (I'll bet they ate it themselves) and carted me off to Blogjail.

My Landlady feels badly about the whole thing, and is trying to raise the bail. Please send comments. Lots of comments. Good ones. Please.

I'm Still Hitman B

I'm still Hitman B! As of now, there's 1 % left of the waning crescent moon. During the complete new moon, I will forget entirely about my identity as Brad the Gorilla until the moon begins to wax again. Bear with me, my friends. It's more difficult for me than it is for you. Among other things, this transformation has given me a powerful craving for cannoli. Perhaps the cannoli (should I be so lucky as to get some) will cure me of this affliction.

Ahem. You might want to send me some cannoli, post haste. In fact, why don't you give into the impulse? You'll be glad you did. So will I.

Meanwhile...

I've been rampaging all over the internet, leaving insightful and scary comments everwhere I go. Meanwhile, I (Hitman B) am featured in a story about Dave, the Frozen Yorkshire Pudding. I wish the story were about cannoli, but one has to make do with what one gets, unless of course one throws what one gets out the window and demands something new.

I'm Hitman B!

Were-folk are affected by the full-moon. Erew-folk, like me, are affected by the new moon. During this new moon cycle, I undergo a strange, uncanny transformation whereby I morph into someone else, and yet maintain my own Bradness. Since there is still 10% of the moon left, I still have 10% of me, and 90% of Hitman J. It sounds crazy, and it is! Behold:



Here is my blog entry as Hitman B. You will have to highlight the text in order to read it, because, of course, Hitman B types in white ink:

Ok, I know I made some comments around the Blogosphere about being a good cook, but I was faking it. I rarely cook these days. However, today will be a treat. The pizza dough is rising in the back room and in just under an hour I should be dining on my first hommade (all by myself) pizza!

This has inspired me to solicit recipes. Anyone got a favorite chili recipe? Cookies? Chicken Banana dishes (involve cheese and you get bonus points).

I once had a dish that was chicken bananas and Doritos burritos and cheese. I wish I'd written it down.

I just ordered some cookie dough from the local elementary school. It is chocolate cookie with mint banana chips. MMMmmm I love mint banana chocolate. I make my own special brownies: take any brownie mix, replace half the oil with creme de menthe banane syrup (oil-like consistency). No creme de menthe banane? You can use chocolate mint rum, but you should use all the oil the recipe calls for and just splash in the mint syrup to taste drink all the rum. I even have used peppermint whisky, but careful, that stuff is strong!

Another trick up my sleeve is to put a strong dash of cinnamon in my chocolate chip cookies. Not so much you can taste it outright, just enough to give it an extra zing punch.

We already discussed my lasagna once, but it is my piece de resistance! Sicillian style, with sausage basil pesto, ricotta, and lots of cheese!

Time to toss the pie in the oven.

Cooking with Bradley

Welcome to the first installment of my new feature,
Cooking With Bradley.

Each week, I will share with you in an easy-to-follow format one tried and true recipe that is guaranteed to wow your family! This week, I am starting with something simple but delicious. Even the pickiest of eaters will enjoy this classic Greek delight:

Tossed Eggplant and Zucchini


You will need:

1-3 ripe eggplants


1 raw zucchini


water


olive oil


sea salt (not the Hain brand)



Directions:

1) Peel and chop the raw eggplant into 2 inch cubes



2) Peel and chop the raw zucchini into 2 inch cubes



3) Get a pot. In the pot, add just enough water to cover the bottom. Place a vegetable steamer (also known as a "UFO") into the pot. Combine chopped zucchini and eggplant in the steamer, and steam, covered, until lightly cooked.




4) Remove from the pot. Coat the pieces with olive oil and salt, making sure that oil and salt are distributed evenly over the surfaces of the vegetables.



5) Open a window.



6) Toss zucchini and eggplant out the window.


7) Order out for Greek pizza.



Opa!

Stamp

Once again, my older brother Shadrach the silverback (a.k.a. Shadley-Wadley the Golden Boy) gets all the praise. This time, it's in the form of a postage stamp commemorating his breakthrough research in the study of snow algae, also known as watermelon snow. This breakthrough has a lot to do with the current ecosystem, and that's all I know.



My parents are going to pieces over Shad's latest honor. Just now, they emailed me to ask when I'm going to stop with the blogging silliness and get a proper job like Shad. "I do have a proper job," I told them. "I'm a class-act chef. I'm CEO of my own company. Sometimes, I play in a band."

They pointed out that no one exactly knows what Bradley Enterprises, Inc. actually does. I told them that it doesn't matter. My core clients believe in what I do and back me 67%. My parents should have been thrilled by that news. Instead, they asked me what I did to alienate the other 43%.

Are everyone's parents so product-oriented?

Google Image Search Meme

I had promised Mr Pudding that I would do much mischief while he was in Madrid, but I failed. I have been dealing with the sniffles all week, and that has made me tired and grumpier than usual. However, I shall pick up the photo meme Mr Pudding featured on his blog. It's milder than what I had planned (hint: it involved banana cream pies and Mr Pudding's slippers) but it will have to do.

In your Google Image search, post the first photo for each search you do of the following items:

1) City and province/state/country where you were born:



2) Current town/city of residence:



3) Your names (first and last):



(How many of you were expecting this photo instead?)








4) Grandmother's first name:



5) Favorite food:



6) Favorite drink:



7) Favorite odor:



8) Favorite song:



9) Favorite gorilla:

Happy Schmalentine's Day

My Landlord insisted on hugging me while the Landlady took this photo. O, the things we celebrities have to endure as the price of our fame. The humilation never ends.

I hope I get a Valentine cookie out of this deal.

LEGO makeover

You've got a lot to explain, Hitman J! This LEGO makeover is all your fault. I am never again taking your fashion advice.

It all started off in an innocuous manner... or so I thought.

"You're a handsome gorilla," J told me, "but even you could benefit from a LEGO makeover. It's done wonders for my complexion and the ladies really go for the angular look. It's so much better than a Yahoo Avatar. Trust me. Go to this place, tell them that 'Johnny Clamps' sent you, and you won't be sorry."

I can't believe how undignified and silly I look. What's with the Green Lantern symbol on a yellow shirt? Preposterous, I say. My chef's hat doesn't fit, either, and my head feels funny. It's going to take me all weekend to get this mess sorted out.

Hitman J, you owe me an ice-cream cone. No, two ice-cream cones.

O woe is me!

They're Taking Our Language to Isengard!*

I am shocked, simply shocked, by an email I received last night forwarded to me from the Queen of England. As you know, the Queen and I are on good terms, but I really think she has gone too far this time in bestowing her blessing upon such a venture.

The email:

European Union commissioners have announced that agreement has been reached to adopt English as the preferred language for European communications, rather than German, which was the other possibility.

As part of the negotiations, Her Majesty's Government conceded that English spelling had some room for improvement and has accepted a five year phase plan for what will be known as EuroEnglish (Euro for short).

In the first year, "s" will be used instead of the soft "c". Sertainly, sivill servants will resieve this news with joy. Also the hard "c" will be replaced with "k". Not only will this klear up konfusion, but typwriters kan have one less letter.

There will be growing publik enthusiasm in the sekond year, when the troublesome "ph" will be replaced by "f". This will make words like "fotograf" 20 per sent shorter.

In the third year, publik akseptanse of the new spelling kan be expekted to reach the stage where more komplikated changes are possible. Government will enkorage the removal of double letters, which have always ben a deterent to akurate speling.

Also, al wil agre that the horible mes of silent "e"'s in the languag is disgrasful, and they would go.

By the fourth year, peopl wil be reseptiv to steps such as replasing "th" by "z" and "w" by "v". During ze fifz year, ze unesesary "o" kan be dropd from vords kontaining "ou" and similar changes vud of kors be aplid to ozer kombinations of leters.

After zis fifz yer, ve vil hav a reli sensibl riten styl. Zer vil be no mor trubls or difikultis and evrivon vil find it ezi tu understand ech ozer. Ze drem vil finali kum tru.

This time, Her Majesty's Government has gone too far. As Owen Meany would say, I shall not tolerate this UNSPEAKABLE OUTRAGE. I urge all of you to join me in a fervent letter-writing campaign to protect the sanctity of our language and stop this War on upon English.

*The title of this post, "They're Taking Our Language to Isengard!" is an allusion to a particular earworm of a video. If you have forgotten what an earworm is, click here for my scholarly essay on the subject.

Gorilla Tires

Somebody explain to me how gorilla balloons became so popular for selling cars, when most people in their right minds wouldn't let gorillas near their cars. Of course, we're qualified to sell airplanes and helicopters if we so choose, but I suspect some sort of hypocrisy in the mix.

The one pictures I find amusing is of the inflatable gorilla holding up a "free childcare" sign. I can relate. I have had to babysit the Landlord's daughter ad infinitum. I am thinking of raising my rates.

Addendum from the comments section:

Must have been a special on the blue one with sunglasses and swimming trunks. The CHURCH? That's funny.

"My brothers and sisters, we need to find an affordable way to spread the Good Word to the masses."

"Brother Paul, I have a cousin who owns a car dealership. How about a giant blue gorilla?"

"But why a Gorilla?"

"He could hold a sign that says 'Free Childcare'"

"SWEET. Let's do it!"

"AMEN."

--Hitman J

Ode to the Seattle Seahawks (updated)

Tonight, the Seahawks lost the Superbowl to the Steelers! I'm a bit down, because that means there won't be any more blue cupcakes. Ever since I was a little gorilla, I have wanted birthday cakes with blue frosting, but my mother said, "No, Brad, blue is not a natural color." I pointed out that the sky was blue, but my mother was undeterred. As an adult gorilla, I always thought I'd make my own blue frosting cakes, but I got distracted by bananas and chocolate. I thought that if Seattle won the Superbowl, there would be blue cupcakes galore. But now, there are no more. I've composed a lament for the occasion in memory of the Seattle Seahawks' brief glimpse of glory:

(To the tune of "Blue Christmas"):

There'll be no blue cupcakes without you
I’ll be so blue just thinking about you
Decorations of sprinkles on top of icing
Won't be the same if they're yellow or green

And when those souffles start falling
That’s when those azure delights start calling
You’ll be doin’ all right, with your sweets red or white
But I want a blue, blue blue blue cupcake.



Saturday, February 4th, 2006:


O Seahawks
On your way to the Super Bowl
For the first time in 30 years,
Please win the game
So that I may find
More blue cupcakes on my plate.

Monkey's New Yahoo Avatar

Not too long ago, I created a Yahoo avatar, but I was disatisfied with the appalling lack of diversity among the primate choices. I wasn't a human, so why did I have to pretend otherwise? I studied the problem astutely and came up with something simple but brilliant: my Bravatar. Behold:



I couldn't stop there. Deep down inside,I suspected my simian friend Monkey secretly wanted an accurate avatar of his own...but what to do? The problem haunted me for many days. Then, in a brilliant flash of insight, the solution came to me:



Congratulations, Monkey. You too can now display a two-dimension depiction of your true self in the Yahoo IM world and beyond. The cup in your hand contains Spinning Girl's famous Mayan hot chocolate. I don't know why you have a horse in your living room. It just showed up. Maybe it's your rhino unicorn?

Shad the Gorilla

Against my better judgement, I am posting a picture of my older brother, Shad, also known as "my brilliant son the scientist" (by our parents), and "handsome hairy beast" (by gorilla girls everywhere he goes). Shad is a proper silverback gorilla who works in McMurdo Station on Ross Island in Antarctica. Before Antarctica, Shad lived outside of Glasgow, Scotland with his university sweetheart, a Scotsgorilla named Aoife McCullough. Charlotte is Shad's and Aoife's daughter, but Shad doesn't really know Charlotte all that well. They meet up once a year on the Galapagos Islands, because that's as far north as Shad will travel. Technically, Shad and Aoife are still mates, but they had a falling out some years ago and haven't seen each other since Charlotte was a toddler. Despite all of the storm and stress of Shad's marriage, he is still our parents' golden boy. However, I beat Shad at wrestling once a few years back, much to our parents' chagrin. Shad has been insisting on a rematch ever since, but I choose instead to rest on my laurels.




Shad the Gorilla, my older brother

The Neighborhood of Make-Believe

Last Saturday, I visited the Neighborhood of Make-Believe for the first time since I was fired from being the props-master on the set of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. First off, I said hello to my old friend Mr. McFeely and we had a good laugh remembering the silly stage pranks we'd pull to see if we could make Mr. Rogers throw a fit. (He never did, though later he said he credited me with the inspiration for the song, "What do you do with the mad that you feel?")



Mr. McFeely gave me his autograph. Then, while the other children were waiting in line to meet him, we had a spirited discussion about the state of the U.S. Postal system today. Soon after, my Landlady grabbed me by the arm and said, "Mr. McFeely is not responsible for domestic postage going up by 2 cents."


I spent some time with the Make-Believe royalty at the castle of King Friday the XIII. Lady Elaine Fairchild and I had always gotten along swimmingly, but King Friday and I often clashed. We smiled through gritted teeth, shook hands, and posed for the picture. Queen Sara was pleasant to me and offered me some snacks.


As I began to help myself to the array of treats, I distinctly heard King Friday mutter, "I hope he doesn't take all of the chocolate-chip muffins." My Landlady claimed that I had hallucinated the whole thing, but when I turned back, I saw King Friday shaking his fist at me. Hah! King Friday has no dominion over me.


I spent some time with Daniel Striped-Tiger at the clock. Daniel and I go way back. I knew him before he was tame. He often bit King Friday. Mr. Rogers did not approve, even though I pointed out that King Friday deserved it. It was around this time that Mr. Rogers told me that he didn't think I was happy as the props-master.

"Well, no," I said, "I want to be an actor on your show."

Mr. Rogers told me that there weren't any openings for gorillas on the show, but that he would keep me informed.* He then told me that he needed a new props-master, someone who would be calm around the children and not throw the shoes and sweaters at them in the audience. Mr. Rogers gave me a pretty decent severance package for that time, and sent me on my way. Soon after, I had a stint on Wonder Woman, but that spot wasn't the breakthrough role for which I had hoped. Anyway...


I took a spin on Lady Elaine's museum-go-round. I used to make myself sick on that thing. That day was no different.



I tried to soothe my poor, aching head with a glass of ginger-ale in Henrietta Pussycat's house, but when I had to lean out the window (I was sick, sick, sick), I got stuck. The Landlord had to rescue me. It was humiliating.


The trolley-ride back from the Land of Make-Believe was blissfully uneventful. The swaying of the trolley on the tracks made me woozy, but it was a short trip. I survived.

Even though the Neighborhood of Make-Believe was too small and tame for a gorilla,* I made a lot of friends with whom I kept in touch (not King Friday). When Mr. Rogers died, I cried like a baby.

*Years later, Mr. Rogers invited Koko to visit the set. Koko always gets the star treatment! It is Her Way.

Four Things: a Meme for the Masses

Here is a copy of the Brad’s Four Things Meme. I can't believe I'm doing such a silly, undignified activity as participating in a meme. It makes my fur stand on end. After I finish this post, I shall have to do the New York Times crossword puzzle using my fancy-dancy fountain pen in order to restore my dignity.

Jobs I’ve Had
1) Musician
2) Chef
3) Actor
4) CEO

Movies I can Watch Over and Over

1) Liar Liar
2) Man in the Moon
3) Truman Show
4) Earth Girls Are Easy

Places I’ve Lived

1) Africa
2) Asia
3) Europe
4) Antarctica (as a summer intern, working for my brother Shad)

Places I’ve Vacationed
1) Memphis, Tennessee , USA
2) South Bend, Indiana ,USA (Go Fighting Irish!)
3) Asbury Park, New Jersey, USA (I don’t like to talk about this trip)
4) Carlsbad Caverns, New Mexico, USA

Favorite Dishes
1) Pomegranate salad with crème fraiche
2) Bananas Foster
3) Fried mozzarella sticks
4) Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches

Non-Blogger Sites I visit Daily

1) Homestar Runner (sound on)
2) The Motley Fool (A lot of people think this site is “so 1997,” but it’s still my favorite investing site)
3) Zombo (sound on)
4) New York Stock Exchange

Places I’d Like to Visit
1) Constantinople
2) Timbuktu
3) Troy
4) Nonny's house

People I’m Tagging For This Meme:
1) Monkey
2)Philip the Pun
3)My Landlord
4)The King

Update: By special request, here is a photo I found taken during my summer internship at McMurdo Station. It was a pretty rowdy summer. The emperor penguin you see on the right is named Forster. We still send each other postcards every now and then.

Earworm

Mr. Pudding asked, ""What is a meme?" and then proceeded to tag me with one. It's a good thing he didn't ask my Landlady. She is wont to tell you something along the lines of, "It's a piece of information transferred from one person to another," and then give you example after example of notorious internet memes. These memes often strike the Landlady as much funnier than they actually are for the simple reason that by the time the memes gets to her, they're on their way out of popularity.

I, however, am of a more scholarly mind. For example, I have devoted much study to the meme subgenre called an Earworm, which is a song you can't get out of your head, even if you hate it. A month ago,the blogger Defective Yeti demonstrated just how powerful an Earworm can be. He risked everything, even his marriage, to pass along an Earworm so revoltingly powerful that even more terrible things would have happened had he remained silent.

What is your favorite Earworm? What is your least-favorite Earworm? I already know that Lady Hearteater has "Electric Avenue" stuck in her head. For over a year now, the Landlady has taken great delight in singing and dancing to a Romanian disco song that drives the Landlord up the wall. The cruelty never ends.


An earworm with the ending of I've Seen All Good People by Yes stuck in its head (or tail).

P.S. I'm up early on a Saturday morning (7 AM PST) because I'm on my way to the Land of Make-Believe. Updates will be posted later.

Happy Birthday to My Landlord

Today is my Landlord's* birthday! This morning I got out my guitar and sang him a song I made up:

You're thirty-six years old today,
Yeah, yeah, yeah,
I'm impressed you don't have grey
Hair, hair, hair (but sung to rhyme with "yeah, yeah,yeah").
Though you're a stickler for the rules,
Ooooh, oooh, oooh,
I still think you're pretty cool,
Shoooo, beeee, dooooo.



I wanted to sing the traditional "Happy Birthday" song, but AOL Time/Warner said they'd sue me if I didn't pay them $10k USD for the rights to use the song in a public setting. That would eat up all my profits and deplete the helicopter fund.


I also tried to make my Landlord a chocolate cake with coconut frosting, but for some reason, I had a bit of trouble with the dimensions of the bakeware:



I have learned my lesson: never attempt to cook or bake before I've had my first two cups of coffee. My Landlord has already discovered this universal truth... over and over. Of course, this lesson is a Catch-22, because before one has had two cups of coffee, one does not often have the mental capabilities of making reasonable decisions. My Landlady scoffs at this notion, but she's a milky-coffee one-cup-a-day kind of consumer.


*My Landlord drew the pictures.