Thursday, February 28, 2013

Mr. Sketchy

 Photo; Shandra Beri

Okay, so just me engaging in my normal surreptitious behavior of squeezing in a few stolen moments to suck up some oceanic blues during the course of my day, and I notice some cute little brown seagulls kind of hanging in a gang and chilling in the sun. So I snap them up just for fun.

Then a little further up the beach, I notice two women out for a walk and I think, 'Oh that's nice... a little exercise and girl talk. I need to get together with my girlfriends more. I'm calling Z when I get home and make a hiking date!'
(notice the pod of sleeping gulls they have just passed and left undisturbed...)

  Photo; Shandra Beri

Within 30 steps, I instantly begin to hate them as they harass my sleeping gulls to the point that they all either run into the waves or flap erratically away in a half stupor. I am tempted to yell out some cutting insult but because the ocean is like a xanax and the poor gulls have now all dissipated anyway, I let it pass.

  Photo; Shandra Beri

At which point, I direct my camera away from the gull-ist women and shoot PCH toward Malibu. In my viewfinder I notice a man quickly walking toward me with his head down. Oddly, he is NOT on the beach (like the women), nor is he walking on the ample paved shoulder (like every other biker and/or pedestrian on PCH does). No, he is walking on the thin strip of steep soft sand just off the highway. I have the only parked car that I can see in both directions. I'm like, 'Whoa, Mr Sketchy, you are obvi not homeless, not dressed for the beach, have appeared out of nowhere and are heading toward me like a freight train- see ya!' I hop in my car and kind of mildly peel out. (it's PCH after all, you gotta be careful...)

                                Photo; Shandra Beri

So, now that I'm in the safety of my own home downloading photos, here's my question; is that a gun?! (I cleverly left his face out of the close-up in case he's a hit man for the Malibu Mafia.)
 

North Of Montana




















All Photos; Shandra Beri

Bernese Mountain Dog Synchronicity Incident

 Photo;Shandra Beri


Photo;Shandra Beri

Same corner, same moment in time, opposite sides of the street and no, they did not know each other.

I love how 'Mr. Chubby' looks so hopeful that this chance encounter will turn into friendship (and snacks...).

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

IKEA Meatballs

Without exception, EVERY time I have EVER eaten IKEA's meatballs, I think to myself, 'Gee, I generally hate meatballs, but these are freaking delicious! Those Swedish people really know how to treat ground beef!'

Meanwhile, IKEA has been secretly working with my best interests to turn me back into a vegetarian. Here is the proof in a statement they released regarding mixing My Friend Flicka into their products:

“All meatballs sold in our IKEA US stores are sourced from a US supplier. When this issue first came to light in Europe, we mapped the sources of the meat in our meatballs. Based on the results of our mapping, we can confirm that the contents of the meatballs follow the IKEA recipe and contain only beef and pork from animals raised in the US and Canada. All beef and pork from the US and Canada must comply with USDA guidelines.”

Umm, er... sounds legit.

Big Chain Food Markets

Ahhh... how soothing. It looks just like the lobby of the hospital were Nana did us all a favor and finally kicked the bucket. Thank god I was in the lobby and she was in her room surrounded by strangers when it happened so I didn't have to have that awful image seared into my memory!
Olde Timey- it must be good!
So this is what happened to White Castle! (it's the mystery meat/white bread food group in case you're wondering)
Hey, even though this is southern California and I can get some of the best Mexican food in the world by just walking out my door and turning my head this way and that and following my nose until I run into culinary brilliance, you mean to tell me I can go to the FREEZER ISLE for Mexican?! Fuck ambiance! Jim Bob, warm up the TV and kick the dog out of my barcalounger- cuz I'm comin' home with dinner!
  Appetizer or six pockets each as a main course- you decide!

You know, I DO feel a lot of pressure to bathe myself and go out in public without seeming fearful and awkward whenever I crave eating craptastic, artery clogging nutritionally blank food at TGI Friday's. So my point is; WINNING!


 Now, some of those health food types would say that if there is a paragraph of ingredients and preservatives on your desired grocery item- walk away! But listen you hippies, I say PIE IS PIE. Besides, if it wasn't good fer me, they couldn't sell it, right? Right? Hello... anyone there?


Well, this is everything we could find that was edible. We debated whether or not the organic tape on the bananas was genuine, but in the end we went with it. The great part about the whole experience was that as I was pushing the cart around that gigantic warehouse of fake food, I felt just like Katharine Ross after she got murdered and turned into a Stepford wife.
Movie within a movie... (talk about bang for your buck) I also thought about that episode of Twilight Zone. "Stopover in a Quiet Town". (Google it, fetuses...)

"Bob and Millie Frasier -- average young New Yorkers who had attended a party in the country last night, and on the way home, took a detour. Most of us, on waking in the morning, know exactly where we are; the rooster or the alarm clock brings us out of sleep into the familiar sights, sounds, aromas of home and the comfort of a routine day ahead. Not so with our young friends. This will be a day like none they've ever spent, and they'll spend it in the Twilight Zone."

(also known as the corporate owned grocery store...)

Monday, February 25, 2013

Batman

 Photo;Shandra Beri
              Photo; Shandra Beri

I'm not here to harsh your mellow, but on PCH today I saw a sad truth with my own eyes. In the same way Russell Crowe lets himself go all to hell between films, apparently when things settle down for awhile in Gotham, Batman does the same.

Now, I'm not here to judge- my point is only that presenting as extra-ordinary all the damn time apparently makes you just break down, make poor choices in clothing, include Vegas as an actual destination and crave deep fried peanut butter, banana and bacon sandwiches as though you are freaking Elvis. Maybe we should rethink all this idolatry we foist upon mere mortals. I think it's pretty obvious that it's not actually helping them in the long run...

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Alexandre Cabanel

 Cleopatra Testing Poisons on Condemned Prisoners,1887
The Birth of Venus, 1863
Fallen Angel, 1847
 Self Portrait, 1852

Brilliant and a babe. Further confirmation that I was born in the wrong era...

The Lonliest Goldfish










:(