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Happy Birthday, Willy Wonka!

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Wednesday, June 27, 2007

What's on Nonny Nu's White Board?
by Cl. Panic (guest blogger + 4D stalker)

So I get back, and find this on NN's white board. Someone has to keep this site updated!

Apparently the birthday fairies swooped down on Nu Nu & Nu LLP, becuase this is what I found when I returned from my little trip.

Given a telltale sign, I have a pretty good clue who might have been behind these shenanigans!

...there's more to this story--click me!

Adios Island Amigos
by Cl. Panic, the Cato Kalin of guest bloggers

They say that all good things come to an end; I guess vacations fit squarely into that category. I've got to get back into town so I can stand in line for an iPhone. (I mean, really, there's already a line going in New York?) Let me know when the SoHo and 5th Avenue lines cross.

My little lady and I opted for a drive around the island. We picked up a Jeep (I remember how to drive a stick, right?) and hopped on the road. Since there was really only one road to worry about, the map wasn't too necessary. The whole drive can be done in an hour or two, be we opted for a more leisurely trip. I did the same drive a few years ago, and I was amazed at the difference. This year there was a nicely paved road the whole way 'round.

The West side of the island is pretty rocky, and there isn't a whole lot of "beach" like you'd find Los Angeles or Miami or San Diego. The East side has a bit more beach, but swimming isn't recommended because of strong currents and the fact that the East side is generally uninhabited.

We stopped for a refreshing beverage at Coconuts, an awesome little bar up on an outcropping that consisted of a giant round thatched roof and very little else. No 'lectricity neither. Margaritas on the rocks anyone?

I'll spare the details of the rest of the day, but packing was unfortunately involved. The following morning we headed to the airport.

Cozumel has a small airport, all on ground level, with nice big windows looking right out on the tarmac. Those of you who know Cl. Panic know that I'm inquisitive. I was looking at our plane being refueled when I noticed liquid flowing out of the wing. Hmmm. Not a good sign. When the fire truck showed up, it because clear that our flight would be delayed. I was amazed that none of the other passengers noticed. Are these people blind?

The fire truck left, but a big puddle of jet fuel remained. The Mexican authorities gave the go-ahead for boarding and takeoff. Apparently, though, the AA pilot was some sort of anal retentive stickler who insisted that the flammable puddle be cleaned up. The nerve!

Anyway, we finally got into the air for a safe flight home. Can't wait for the next vacation! (Hint hint...)

...there's more to this story--click me!

Let's Talk About Fat, Bay-Bee
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)

Friends and family will tell you that I will never be confused with a health nut. I enjoy being a peasant in His Royal Highness' Burger Kingdom far too much for that. And The King has such delicious breakfastststs that I'll always be a faithful follower.

See, the drive-thru experience has made life just too easy for lazy asses like myself, who want that extra twenty minutes of sleep we can get by not making our own breakfasts in the morning. It's simple to spend five minutes (on a good day, when Marianne or Romero haven't been doing bong hits the night before) pulling up and sailing away from the window with artery clogging materials to eat on the way to work. Yeah, the old Chevy Cavalier may get a little messy - (actual digital photo of my car *) but it will save me from scrubbing 8 hour dried and caked on oatmeal when I get home, in addition to the dinner dishes I have to do.

The truth of the matter is I don't mind cooking dinners. I am fairly adept at an astounding 6 recipes (no joke), and neighborhood stray dogs (or other critters) only turn their noses up four times a week while scavenging through my garbage. I like the kitchen time after work - I just hate it before work. In addition, I'm cooking dinner for my little brother and me so there's the satisfaction of doing something for someone else, while the breakfast thing would just be for me, so what's the point?

But about two months ago I stepped on what would soon become my arch-enemy. I'm about 6 feet tall and was an athlete in high school, playing on my school's football team. I have been in pretty good shape throughout my life in spite of my BS diet. (Those initials are not Periodic Table abbreviations, by the way.) A little research indicates that a dude my height's "Ideal Weight" should be 175 lbs. which is around where I've been the past ten years, most often, though, I'd been weighing 172. Well, my arch-enemy gleefully told me in quite harsh and ridiculing fashion, "You're crushing me with your 189 pound lard-ass girth, fat boy!!!" And I was scared.

So I asked my little brother to step on my arch-enemy, because obviously that SOM' Bitch was lying or at least malfunctioning. Now my little brother is about 5' 5" tall and still growing, but more interested in video games, limiting his physical activity to showing off on his bicycle so he can break his arm (which is a story for another time). So my little bro settles in a top Captain Crabby Pants and is immediatedly shouted down in an unrivaled demeaning tone, "Get Off! Get Off! Two-tons of Buns!" A closer check showed my not so little bro registering in at 217 pounds, and that made me even more scared.

How'd we get so fat? (That's rhetorical)

So I started to get into an exercise routine on my own after work and was putting in about 3 miles a day, 5 days a week. My little bro has been doing Hapkaido for 3 years, 3 days a week for an hour and a half each time, and while it has taught him valuable philosophy about self conduct, it obviously hasn't kept his weight down. We signed up to do a 5K walk because my little brother didn't think he could run it, and he was right. It was a struggle for him to keep up a 20 min/mi pace.

So what can we do outside of going on The Biggest Loser(s) to get this expanding waistline issue under control? I know Nonny Nu has a coach and hiking buddies. But judging from your Blog Photo, you seem to be in tip-top hippity-hop shape as you're hopping down the bunny trail. It's time for an intervention.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Friday, June 22, 2007

Birthday Festivities

It's only halfway through, but I have had such an awesome birthday already! I got up around 10am. The start of it wasn't promising because I actually worked a little bit this morning (very minimal, though). I thought that I would treat myself to a facial, but it was soon lunchtime and, seeing as how I thought I was being fed the cold shoulder by Mr. Nonny Nu, I took off to have a celebratory lunch and catch 1408 by myrabbitself.

To be completely honest, I really enjoy eating alone. Well, actually, I really enjoy eating, whether it be with someone or by myself. Mr. Nonny Nu is a real steak and potatoes guy, and I'm a real octopus and lemongrass gal. So, as may be expected, eating is an issue between us. He tries to be pliable, but sometimes I just have to go off by myself and really chow down on some grubs, er, grub. I love to read, so I bring along a novel and just have some quiet and quality time alone.

Anywho, I spent the first hour at the DMV renewing my tags. Then, I went to a Thai restaurant (my favorite food is Thai food, btw) for my second birthday meal (last night's dinner was the first one, but I'll spare you the details). I forgot my camera, so I can't provide actual pictures, but I'll illustrate with the help of the Internet. I ordered:

1) Tom Yum Goong, a spicy sour lemongrass soup with shrimp;
2) Tod Mun, fried fishcakes werved with a sweet and sour cucumber and red onion dipping sauce (they're like Thai chicken McNuggets);
3) Drunk Noodles with chicken, savory rice flour noodles stir-fried with tomatoes, basil, chili, and chicken;
4) Pad Thai noodles with shrimp, thin rice noodles;
5) Red Curry Beef with rice; and
6) Thai Iced Tea.

It will come as no surprise to you all that the waitress asked me if I wanted any of this stuff to go. I told her no, and that I'm just having a celebratory birthday lunch. She looked at me with a huge grin that said, "I can't believe what a freak you are!" So, when the food started arriving, I got to work. When you put it all together, it does seem a bit much, doesn't it? ------------------->

Yes, I did notice that the other waitress and the waiter kept walking by to see how I was doing and all of them had that grin on their faces. I finished the soup, but I was only able to finish half of everything else, so I took that to go. When I asked for the check, something totally cool happened--they brought over a fried banana and ice cream dessert and sang "Happy Birthday" to me!! They were so nice!!! I so regained my faith in humanity!!! Then, right before I left, they gave me this. I felt so loved.

Well, anywhoo, I said thank you and goodbye, and I went to the theatre for my opening day viewing of 1408. Lo and behold, as I was waiting in line for tickets, I get a text message from Mr. Nonny Nu: Bring me food. Subsequently, me. So, I got Mr. Nonny Nu some lunch and brought it home. But, look at what was sitting on the coffee table! And, look where it's from! When I opened the gift, there were the party favors. But, this is what I got--a Clarisonic face brush! It's like one of the sonic toothbrushes, but for faces!! The system comprises a brush with sensitive brush head installed, a normal brush head, recharger, and daily cleanser. It's charging up right now for my bath tonight! Thank you so much, Mr. Nonny Nu!

And, also special thanks to Man from U.N.C.L.E. for tips on how to kiss ass and the wonderful poem!!

To ogunsgirl: I hope you like chocolate--HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!




P.S. Don't know if you are interested but, in my bathroom, I have my baby picture with my mom and my dad's in the top portrait: click here.

P.P.S. Skitty came by to say happy birthday.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Some Shameless Happy Birthday Ass Kissing
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)


Let me take this opportunity to shamelessly provide some smooches to The Honorable Editor-In-Chief of The World Of Nonny Nu on the occasion of her Birthday.

Go NN, It's Your Birthday!!! Go NN, It's Your Birthday!!!

Anyway, I searched the world over to find an appropriate gift, but that company doesn't make gift boxes like this one (Seriously, someone needs to talk to their marketing department). Unfortunately, like most of my shopping trips looking for stuff for other people, I end up seeing something for myself.
HANDY TUTORIAL HERE:

How do you kiss ass successfully in a typical work environment? Follow the 10 simple steps below:
10 STEPS TO KISSING YOUR WAY TO THE TOP

  1. Never talk bad about the current boss to anyone! This includes fellow coworkers who may start the conversation. You never know who's listening and you never know who will say something.

  2. Never, ever confide personal details about yourself to anyone at work. Even the most trusted coworker will turn around and blab his mouth all over the place. People usually take "Don't tell anybody, but..." as "Don't tell anybody, but if you do, make sure they don't tell anybody." Within twenty minutes, rumors usually get around to the secretary who's sleeping with the boss. After that, you're off the promotion list.

  3. Never, ever make friends at work! Once you've kissed your way to the top, you may end up having to fire some of these people. It's a lot less painless if you've kept your distance.

  4. If your immediate boss is retiring or quitting and you have your eye on his position, find out who's going to be making the replacement decision. Very rarely will it be your boss. If your boss is popular with upper management, have him put in a good word for you and proceed with the second half of the next step.

  5. If upper management is happy your boss is leaving, talk to your boss' boss and kiss his ass. A lot of times you don't have to wait for your boss to quit. If you can nonchalantly get in good with the higher ups, you may end up taking your boss' job anyway. Don't offer suggestions on how to better run the place, those are too easily shot down. Tell him that your mother's maiden name is the same as his last name and that you're probably related. This technique is especially powerful if he has some off the wall ethnic name! Find out which church he goes to or what organizations he belongs to and "just by coincidence" run into him at one of these places. "Wow, we think so much alike!" or "we have so much in common" is a good ice breaker.

  6. As soon as the decision making person trusts you, you can eliminate any competition by saying things like, "You know, I think so-and-so would be a good manager, but...and I really don't think I should bring it up...but, I've heard him say that if he was promoted, he's going to start his own business and take our client base with him. But please, keep this between me and you." Believe me, as long as you can say it with a straight face, so-and-so will be cleaning the corporate toilets the following Monday!

  7. Once you've gotten your boss' position, start kissing higher level asses by repeating the steps starting with number 5, in addition to using the advanced ass kissing techniques that follow.

  8. Hire yourself a whipping boy; someone who's young, impressionable and expendable. Tell him crap like, "You can go far in this company. Just follow my lead." His main function will be to spy on your subordinates, eliminate anyone trying to kiss his way into your position in addition to taking the blame for all of your mistakes.

  9. Make yourself look important. Leave instructions before going home to "page me if there's any problems." Have your whipping boy start some type of bogus crisis that only you can fix. After coming back to work, have your whipping boy call corporate and inform them that you've come back and are handling the problem. If you know a few customers personally, have them write a letter of praise to the company President telling him how you saved the day.

  10. Make yourself look good on paper, too. Ask for an increased budget, then lay some dead weight off, order cheaper supplies and replace menial jobs with state-sponsored mentally retarded workers. Then, next quarter brag about how much you came in under budget and how much money you saved the company! Also mention that given the opportunity you could do the same for the whole company! Can't you just see the CEOs' mouths just watering?


I hope those tips help out TWoNN's bloggers!!!

Now getting back to the subject at hand and my search for the appropriate gift coming up empty. Since I couldn't find The Maggi Sauce, and it appears that Nonny Nu also has a love for flowers, I wrote this song. Hum any melody that you care to and shake your jewelery for percussion.

THIS FLOWER

The beauty of this rose will fade

But the memory of its beauty will remain

The flower and friendship are the same

Two of the beautiful creations of God's Domain

This flower is yellow like the sunrise

High in the sky the sun's shining bright

When you see it think of better times

And always remember that it is Her light

A friend is someone who is like the sun

And together with this flower the three are one

Each start off weak, then grow to a peak

Then they drift on slowly until the cycle is complete

And as every day you watch the sun set

Keep in mind that there are better days yet

For the flower and the sun will rise up again

And the beauty of your memories will still remain

So Hallmark is not going to be hiring me anytime. But I sincerely wish you a Happy Birthday, Nonny Nu. You are a beautiful friend.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Cozumel Day 6: Fish Finale
By Cl. Panic (guest blogger)

Unfortunately my vacation is drawing swiftly to a close, and my last day of diving has come to a close. We all know what that means: after today, no more fish pictures. This makes some people happy. And others quite sad.* Either way, I'll start neutral with this little number, affectionately known as a white fireworksorama in Nu-speak.

(Pretend like there is no huge gap below...)




























Squirrelfish
These little guys were just about everywhere, and they all look like they need Prozac or maybe just a little more sleep. Personally, I think they look nothing like squirrels.
Bluestripe Grunt? Parrotfish?
I cannot explain the yellow eye shadow. And I'm not quite positive what this is. Any marine biologists out there?
I don't know what this is, but I think he looks like a torpedo.
Stoplight Parrotfish
They guys eat algae and munch on coral. These crazy guys really are transgender, since they may change color or sex as they exit their juvenile stage. Talk about a tough puberty!

Lobster
Best served with drawn butter and a lemon wedge.
French Angelfish
Don't hold their heritage against them (though they are a bit pouty). They are known to form harems with a single male dominant over several females.
Smooth Trunkfish
"can release toxins; usually solitary"
Remind you of anyone?




We finished up the diving and ended up heading out for a day on the town with our divemaster. He told us to just follow him to a little hole in the wall called El Gato Negro. (That's The Black Cat for those of you who took French in high school instead of Spanish. Right, and you live in California...). Definitely not a place you'd want to just wander into, and probably not in the Michelin Guide. But the beer was cheap and there was entertainment.

Though it's best not to photograph the entertainment. If so, you'll likely be invited to share in a gigantic blunt and be made fun of in Spanish. Not that I know this firsthand or anything. A lot of what happened after El Gato Negro is a little sketchy. I'm pretty sure it involved fitting 5 adults into Jeep and some fresh mahi mahi.

Tomorrow it's time for a drive around the island and then it's back on the plane back to the good old U S of A. (Do we need passports this week or not?)



* Yes, it is proper to begin a sentence with and -- or even but!

...there's more to this story--click me!

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

More Music Therapy
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)

O.K., so from my previous guest blog on Karaoke you should know that I place great value in music as a tremendously therapeutic device. I don't wish to be repetitive, so shoot me if you think I am or indulge me, but I really perceive music as a legal drug, allowing one to be transported to another plane of being. When it is well done, it can be as beautiful to the ear as the wildflowers (sp. indigo spammamammajamma) that Nonny Nu has photographed are to the eye. Music can be as revitalizing as the fresh air that the Nonny Nu crew inhale during their hikes. I think we need to appreciate this natural beauty in all its forms.


Music has the power to be the plush comforter to wrap around you when you need a hug. Music has the ability to shift your mood from unmitigated sorrow to unbridled joy or vice versa. For me, and I realize I may come across as overdramatizing, music is seemingly the essence of living - it has helped me cope with hard times and enhanced the good times ten fold. I can't imagine life without music.

I've been trying to transmit my love for music to my little brother for the past 5 years. As a reward for getting all A's (is this breaking Nonny Nu's previously posted apostrophe rule?) as a 13 year old, I took him to his first Rock Concert - a five act show with Linkin Park as the headliner - not my choice but his. We made it through the first 4 acts, but :15 minutes into the Linkin Park set, (the band he really wanted to see), he said he was tired and ready to go home! That was a $150.00 well spent. *rolls eyes*

I've been thinking of taking him to The Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame in Cleveland. He's full of questions about who's in it, will it be like Tenacious D and The Pick Of Destiny, will he see Fall Out Boy, etc? So I did a little research and found this wonderful site about eligibility and future inductees. If you're interested check it out.

Now the site creates a wonderful opportunity for debate regarding who will get in vs. who should get in, and I'd like to make some predictions. For those of you at home or the office, please score along with me and put this blog in a time capsule for future reference as to my ability to divine such Earth-Shattering information.


  • 2007: Sure Things: Madonna, Metallica, Beastie Boys, Sting. These artists set standards for their particular styles of music and have had career longevity.
  • Should Be's: The Bangles (as female only rock group), Culture Club (80's pop- soul perfection), Ice-T (although he's a better big screen star than rapper), Yaz (faggy synth-pop groundbreakers).

  • 2008: Sure Things: Bon Jovi, Violent Femmes, Run-DMC. These groups again have very little in common with one another, but each excelled at what they did. One could argue that no rap group should make it into the Hall since they aren't Rock & Roll per say, but the Hall has already broken that barrier with the inclusion of Grandmaster Flash and The Furious Five. But these three groups all seem to appeal equally to both genders. You can predict that if you went to a concert today of any of these three you would see a 50-50 mix of men and women.
  • Should Be's: Lita Ford (pioneering hard rock female), Stevie Ray Vaughn (dead guitar hero), New Edition (before BB went nuts this group turned out a string of jams), Wham! (no, they didn't last long, but who can deny "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go"?).

  • 2009: Sure Things: Hard to say that any are sure things when compared to the other Rock & Roll Classes that have come before or will come after.
  • Should Be's: Red Hot Chilli Peppers (diversity of musical styles), Pet Shop Boys (just because "...I feel like taking all my clothes off and dancing to the rite of spring...") Cyndi Lauper (critics love her), Sheila E. (dexterous female musician - too bad people often only think of her as a Prince Sideshow- this woman can play).

  • 2010: Sure Thing: Whitney Houston. One could argue again that Whitney is not Rock & Roll, but her early career was record breaking in terms of numbers of Number 1 hit singles. Before there was Mariah, Celine, X-Tina and the rest there was Whitney. Despite what she has become today, I think she still gets in on the merits of her first four albums.
  • Should Be's: Indigo Girls (folk singing lesbians - who doesn't love them some folk singing lesbians?), Enya (perfected that ambient sound).

  • 2011: Sure Things: Bob Geldof gets in for his role in organizing LIVE AID. Guns & Roses for resurrecting hard rock. Salt 'N' Pepa are still the all time best selling female rap group.
  • Should Be's: Crowded House (beautiful Brit-Pop), They Might Be Giants (quirky, indescribable good times), The Melvins (pioneers of the Seattle Grunge scene).

So those are the upcoming five classes of musicians who are eligible for induction to the RNRHoF. If this is well received, I will post my predicitions for the next five classes in a future entry. If I've just bored everyone with senseless information, I'll just turn up my iPod headset to 11 (which is one more than the standard). Freelance Midget will award you 4 street cred points if you identify that reference in the previous sentence. What are your predictions?

MESSAGE TO NONNY NU

Please delete what follows:

Nonny Nu: I'm too tired to add the little linkey clickee things tonight, if you'd like to add them as you see fit, I would in no way be offended, it would be a great collaboration Or I can do it in the morning.




MESSAGE TO Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Dude, you are so delusional. Get to work!!

Your editor,
Nonny Nu


MESSAGE TO NONNY NU

I'm about to go Cesar Chavez all up in here! FM, Cl. Panic, Monkeypig, are you with me?
MFU



MESSAGE TO Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Here, I'll help you along. Print this out on something sticky and apply it to your car's bumper:

...there's more to this story--click me!

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Shamelisted: SS Sociopath

Welcome to the inaugural listing of Nonny's Hall of Shame. This is where individuals of exceptionally low quality will be shunned and booed in perpetuity.

Without further adieu, I present to you the first member of...

[echoing] Nonny's Hall of Shame [/echoing]



Okay, everybody together: BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! hisssssssssssss...

Rap Sheet:
Episode 1
Episode 2

Did you expect it? Well, this was actually the second person I thought of. I had a particular person in mind when I got the idea to start this list but that person is going to have to be third on the list because NOBODY strews(?) my favorite(?) niece's freshly washed clothes all over the floor. NOBODY. Oh, and that leaves the second person on the list. I guess you're just going to have to wait and see who that is in the next edition of ...
[echo] Nonny's Hall of Shame [/echo].


But, here's my rant about SS Sociopath...

Who does this chick think she is?? She can't even handle a roommate adding to the furniture of the house? She's worse than a fish. (Stubbie doesn't have a problem with the green folding chair I put in his bowl.) I am convinced that this is partially due to being completely spoonfed at Google, the specialty of which may be churning out nerdy, socially inept persons. It really IS like kindergarten (like Freelance Midget says), what with the school buses and cafeteria. What's next? Couches in each employee's office? PUHLEEZE. Cripes, they even have free laundry service. Oh, here's more stuff on what it's like to work at Google.

Okay, so basically, these "adults" are still living with "mom," and we ALL know how enchanting said "adults" can be, right? Apparently, these folks at Google never have to leave the Google compound and, therefore, have no need to work well with others outside of Google. That's why they don't even bother to deal properly with a new fold up chair or moving of their not-in-use "baking tupperware" back to their proper place--the kitchen cabinets. Oh! Don't even think about moving a broken stereo that nobody uses out to the garage. No, you might as well strew all her freshly washed clothes over the floor! So, out of one end of Google comes great software, but what gets spewed out of the other end of Google is akin to the snot out of a 5 year old's nostril in the dead of winter. (Ew, I think I grossed myself out...) But, what do you expect from a company that would change their website to celebrate Earth Day but not Memorial Day?

Note: The list is on the left side of the blog.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Is Nature Calling?

(No, I didn't see a deer today.)

I didn't have time to go hiking this weekend because *drumroll please* I had to work. But, have you guys seen Pan's Labyrinth? There's a scene at the beginning of the movie when Ofelia and her mom are driving up to the Captain's "ranch," and the mom has to stop to throw up because she's preggers. Ofelia wanders off a little and sees a statue and a fairy/stick insect. I felt like that this morning.

Right outside the Nus' residence are several of these plants. As I was walking toward my car, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was like my very own fairy, summoning me to go hiking!

No, silly, I didn't ditch work to go hiking, though. Boy, those were the days, huh? I remember ditching at least once a week when I was in highschool. Nowadays, I just can't do that anymore. Life is getting so real, people! It's scary. The worst thing that could have happened in school was getting an F. Now, the worst thing is screwing up an entire lawsuit.

But, Skitty seemed to be comfortable with just lounging around today. After a couple taps on the window, she woke up a bit.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Friday, June 15, 2007

Duck Hunt, Other Kinds of Hunt
by Freelance Midget

What is appropriate at work? I spend a fair amount of my day "communicating" (yes, that's a nice, diplomatic word) on backchannels with other monkeys at work, and I find myself mulling over this question quite often. The guilt hasn't quite set in yet.

Today was quite interesting as I was privy to the manatees communicating outside my office. Between the clicking and sonar pings (maybe this is for dolphins-only, but who cares), I learned that there is to be a gathering this evening at some undisclosed location in preparation for a wild, debaucherous night on the town. But where is this undisclosed location? And in which town will they gather to "rage" like crazed beasts? Such mysteries fill my life. Along with my speculations on super-string theory, Kaluza-Klein dimensions, and how does Duck Hunt work??!!!

Actually, I have solved that last mystery. I can enlighten you if you wish.

Seriously, though. I would love to witness these manatees in line at Butter (ha!) or Harlot. Visions of "Knocked-Up, Scene: Outside the Club, Status: 9 months preggers" flashes to mind. Doorman. Doorman. Doorman. Doooooooormaaaaaaaan. My guess, however, is that you could find them in San Jose, or maybe Oakland, posting up at Golden Corral or Charo's Nut House.

But moving on, there's the question of dress in the office. Business casual is the name of the game, and admittedly, I stretch that definition to accomodate my wardrobe, but there are a few outliers that I enjoy spotting around the place now and then. Shock? Speechlessness? Amusement? Sly disdain? Just a few descriptive mots aux jour that spring to mind when I pass these Bai Ling's and Elton John's in the hallway. On my last few safaris, I was lucky to encounter: a referee from Russia (female), a pimp, a total dexter (both male and female), and a wannabe Nicole Richie, and of course, Ralph Wiggum, Senior Partner, in his never ending parade of Aloha shirts. I hear there's a guy that enjoys the occasional liederhosen and knee socks, but alas, until a sighting is confirmed, he will remain in the realm of Sasquatch and Nessie. In a slight aside, I need to update my Celebrity-Look-Alike tally. Welcome! Kim Jong-Il!

Now this N. Richie troglodyte is a curious mystery to me. I usually see her prancing around in microscopically-strapped silk tops and total (Eastern European) FOB shoes - you know, it really is true that you can gauge a person's social skills just from his/her shoe coice (yes, I will always notice your shoe choice) - yet...I also always run into her in the bathroom, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. Ah! And lest I forget: the warm, intoxicating smell of just regurgitated food wafting through the (already-gross-in-my-mind) bathroom ether. Forgive me if I have misjudged, but don't people who think they are "fat" usually try to cover up said "fat"?

Well, maybe I'm wrong. I'll reconsider this point. It does seem to be a prevalent trend that celebrity skeletors enjoy stalking around with all their points uncovered in order to further enjoy the wind whistling through their brains and legs.

ANYWAY. I've got a club opening to attend and I have to get my hair did. Golden Corral is calling my name.

...there's more to this story--click me!

Forgive me...!!

Please accept my sincerest apologies for this late posting of Saturday's hike. There is good reason, though. Instead of giving you the usual "[insert color here] wild flower" description of the flora and fauna, I did some research and figured out the scientific names of each of the flowers Stillman and I encountered on our hike. I just thought that it would be nice to learn something for once in The World of Nonny Nu. So, here we go...

When I got up in the morning, I was super giddy because I had bought a new camouflage hiking outfit and I couldn't wait to see how well it would work. So, I donned my camou-wear and headed off to Buck's in Woodside* to have breakfast with Stillman, and then off to Purissima Creek Trail. Before setting off on the hike, we made double sure that we didn't have any contraband and took a refresher course on how not to be dumbasses. (Dudes, notice the posting above the one about the mushrooms. We are so in NorCal...)

We set off on the trail where we were met with a fresh-faced banana slug.** Soon, we came upon Purissima Creek proper. Sure, there were a lot of rocks of all shapes and sizes in the creek and, sure, rock crushes scissors in a game of RPS. But,

[deepthought]
in the game of Life, fern grows out of rock.
[/deepthought]

The trail was well-marked and bedecked with trees that were straight as arrows or of the Marianne genus. We continued along the creek and headed into the forest, and encountered a field of magical ferns.

Not to be outdone, members of the Halle genus popped up to say, "Hello!" We also saw some Salad and Orangina (two species that have been known to go well together).

[soothingly]
Shhhh...I know you have questions right now, but you really just worry too much. Sure, anyone in your situation would be wondering how to get a refund from the educational system that never introduced you to the scientific names of these beauties. But, hush...relax. Just enjoy your newfound knowledge. Trust me--I'm a doctor.
[/soothingly]

There was no shortage of (everyone's favorite) Yellow Faced Pink Lions. There were even a few Spotted Spunky Spamajamas. While it's easy to like the elusive Purple Palloja al Shanti Shanti, true camou-wearing sherpas know how to appreciate the rare Spikey Globe Bebop. At this point, our banana slug friend opted for an afternoon nap and Stillman decided to trek on.

Good thing, too, because we next sampled some vistas(!) and some more vistas (!). We then got into a more sunny area where we encountered my camou-competitor. There were also a lot of Jurassic sized plants (taller than Stillman), and the place was just ablaze with activity. Not just bees, butterflies as well. [Stillman: "Oh, look! It's a butterfly gang bang!]

Anywho, it wasn't a surprise that the bees and butterflies were out in droves to see the Purple Panic Punk Rock, and the Aloha Mello Yello. The Pom Pom Peabody were in season and, set next to the White Widow Walanda, the Redrum Redrum! was exquisite. With all these colors, my camou-wear worked like a charm.

* I had the Chorizo Scramble and Stillman had the Buckwheat Pancakes with eggs and bacon (and didn't offer me any of the bacon, just like she didn't offer me any additional blackberries).

** Does anyone know why banana slugs are always so clean, even though they spend all day rolling around in the dirt? Yeah, that isn't one of those questions that the asker knows the answer to.

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Off to Tulum
by Cl. Panic, fresh water guest blogger


While Ms. Nu is in for some disappointment, the rest of the readers are in for a treat. I received a demand for more pictures of fish. Any fish. Problem is there were no fish to speak of today. Why? We dove in the middle of dry land. Now, you're probably asking yourself, "Did Cl. Panic eat the worm, because that's crazy talk!" Well, my friends it's not the worm talking. We took a trip to the mainland for some cenote diving.

To get there, we drove into town, hopped on a ferry to Playa Del Carmen (how would you like this guy's job?), hired a bicyclist to carry our gear to a van, and were then whisked off to the dive site.

What the hell is a cenote? Glad you asked.

Much of the Yucatan land mass used to be under water. Sediment from dead ocean-things, combined with coral "skeletons," pelagic ooze, and other such goodies formed into layer upon layer of limestone. At some point the limestone rose above ground to form the happy land masses that we now know and love as Cozumel, Cancun, and other tropical paradises.

Limestone, or calcium carbonate for the chemists and geologists in the house, isn't the most stable of materials. Like the Wicked Witch of the West, limestone is ready for a meltdown. Just the slightest bit of acid, and limestone will dissolve. In fact, rain water and ground water can either dissolve limestone, or precipitate it, depending on the pH of the water.

Over millions of years, water and the elements wore away at the limestone and created a series of underground caves, caverns, and natural canals. A series of underground rivers still exists throughout much of Mexico, and still form a primary source of drinking water for many people. As the water table rose and fell, the stalactites and stalagmites formed. Occasionally, the roofs of the caverns break free, creating sinkholes -- entrances to the cenote systems -- usually in the middle what would otherwise be semi-desert.

In fact, the Mayans built Chitzen Itza near a cenote, which they believed to be a portal into the other world. They even tossed a few people in there for good luck.

We dove a cenote called "dos ojos." If you really look at the panoramic picture above, you can see why: there are two entrances, and they look like eyes beneath the surface of the water. That's right, the innocent looking swimming hole is actually a portal to the underworld! In this case, the underworld consisted of crystal-clear fresh water that was somewhere around 75 degrees.

The diving in dos ojos was simply amazing. The water was so incredibly clear, it was like diving in air (maybe clearer than if you dove in the air of Los Angeles). Really, it was like we were floating. Even though dos ojos is a cavern system and not a cave, it was still dark and hard to photograph. For a first-timer, it was a great site, as the systems was nice and wide, and a line guided you through the system in a loop. Our guide warned us that there was an alligator at the half-way point.

We ended up doing two dives at dos ojos. On the second dive, we surfaced in the bat cave. Yes, there were actual bats. They were really hard to get in a picture, but trust me: there were bats.

We all got out safely, in spite of a some rather ominous warning signs, thanks in part to the fantastic guides that escorted us through dos ojos. Once back in Cozumel, we were treated to a fantastic sunset and then headed for an awesome dinner at El Moro, which happens to be Cl. Panic's favorite restaurant on the island.

After an fantastic dinner and a Mayan Sacrifice, sleep was not too far behind.

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Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Water World, part four
by Cl. Panic, guest blogger of wetness

Unfortunately, I've fallen behind on my blogging duties. But it's not my fault. The internet connection at the resort is a tad flakier than the one provided by the IT staff at Nu Nu & Nu, LLP. And while threats of my termination and a new "cod oil" status are being thrown around, I continue unphased.

We awoke to a beautiful morning. Admittedly I'm liking the schedule here: waking up and checking the surf beats waking up and checking Outlook any day. (At least the waves are supposed to crash.) Anyhow, I forced myself overboard, and we soon encountered a few angel fish. Two in particular stood out, since they were engaged in some sort of shenanigans.

During our surface interval, we stopped off at a secluded stretch of beach. Too bad it wasn't secluded to the biting insects. Or litter! At least is was themed "beach" trash. I won't bore everyone with a bunch of photos of fish.

I should mention that there is more than just diving (the tourism board requested that I make this sufficiently clear). NN was kind enough to loan me the firm yacht for my vacation, and I had to seize the opportunity to do some sailing. With the wind in my hair, I felt free. Good thing the wind was calm, or we might have ended up in Cuba. (Castro's not dead yet, is he? News doesn't really reach me here.)

After all of that boating it was time to head to town for provisions. We headed to Chedraui, which is a little like a Wal*Mart, except that the employees and customers were pleasant. Food in hand we explored town a bit. For some reason the street lights are purple. We visited the shopping mall (Punta Langosta), which is (shockingly) attached to the cruise terminal. Though they offered an escalator, for obvious reasons I opted for the stairs.

Tomorrow we plan to dive in a cenote on the mainland. Now that is something I'm looking forward to.

Backyard petting zoo, Cozumel style

No petting zoo would be complete without some feral cats, right? Actually, I'm sure those cute little things earn their keep, making sure that the resort is mouse-free. And what about that little insurance salesman? They are around here everywhere at night. On the walls, on the ceilings--amazing little acrobats. And doing their part to keep me free of mosquito bites.

Of course, no aquarium is complete without one of these.

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Attack of The Endorphins
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)

Perhaps I'm still under the effects of the natural opiates of this weekend's performances, but I'm feeling tremendously great so far this week. Sure it's only mid-afternoon Tuesday, but I hope this stupor continues through 'til Friday! See, I would guess a bunch of you will not understand the pleasures of making a fool of yourself in front of a large gathering of other supposedly humanoids, but since an early age it has been a passion of mine. I love performing!

So around the time I was finishing High School I bought the elementary version karaoke machine that has since been upgraded many times over. And in the ten years since, I now have amassed over an astounding 2,500 indelible song favorites in my karaoke library which I share with throngs of thrill seeking, self-deluded star wannabes at often wildly drunken functions for a small (read sizable) fee. (Hey, I'm a social worker - my career is basically pro bono - so I have to make up for it somewhere!) Other times, especially during the Holiday Season, I donate the use of my services, equipment and library to my client's for our annual Holiday Party as a "rehabilitative" incentive.

For those of you who have never had the nerve to try karaoke, there is something inately cathartic in singing your ass off. And get real! Everybody is a closeted performer! Some of you sharing the gift of song with only the appreciative criticism of your loofa sponge and bath gel as your audience, while others among you are classic car singers. Confess - you break into song quicker than Judy Garland in Wizard of Oz when one of your jams comes on while you're tooling to the grocery store for some Maggi Sauce. My developmentally disabled clients understand the freeing nature of music and can just dissolve past their limitations when they have the mic in their hands.

So getting back to this weekend, I KJed (karaoke jockeyed, not to be confused with KYed) a friend of a friend's friend's 40th birthday party bash. As the host of the festivities, it is my responsiblity to warm up the crowd with some lively tunes and demonstrate how awesome and professional even the least talented among the crowd will sound with the goal to get them to let their inhibitions go. Intoxicants also help.

So, as usual, I broke out some soul stirring R & B to get things started. Stevie Wonder's "Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours), and The Spinners' "I'll Be Around" are routinely well-received, showing both fast and slow tempo songs can be admirably performed. Then I turned things over to the crowd. Several grossly inebriated versions of "YMCA," "Brown-Eyed-Girl," "Celebration" and "I Will Survive" were to follow from the party attendees. One guy had seen Wayne's World one too many times and butchered "Bohemian Rhapsody". James Brown's "I Feel Good" was given an amazing rendition complete with choreography. But before things got broken - meaning both furniture, windows and James Brown's tibia - I took back over the mic for some more R & B standards. During this time the guests could find their way back to the booze and I could briefly regain control of things. Almost as cliched as "Celebration", Al Green's "Let's Stay Together" always works well as a sing along because everybody knows it. Then I segued into an incredible version, if I do say so myself, of "Drift Away", another sing along , then right into "Me & Mrs. Jones" and The Temptations' "I Wish It Would Rain" that had people reaching for their Zippos. I really get off on those '60s and '70s soul tunes. I was feeling like Prince in Purple Rain!

After a brief intermission, the crowd had their turn again, unleashing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun", a Madonna medley of "Like A Virgin", "Papa Don't Preach", and "Music", "Mack The Knife", and then some fellas felt like crooners and showed that there will really only ever be one Frank Sinatra. But the thrill is more infectious than Legionnaire's Disease. Speaking of Prince, I unveiled "Little Red Corvette" and I finished things off with a duet with the guest of honor's
husband (who was to afraid to go solo) singing "The Most Beautiful Girl In The World" for her.

Now there are some amazingly talented karaoke singers that I've come across in ten years and some ultimately dreadful ones. I think the dreadful ones could become better if they had the benefit of virtual 24 hour access to practice karaoke in their basements like I do. I'm sure all of you could proudly strut your stuff with enough rehearsal and serious car tunes!!! What would be your signature song?

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Sunday, June 10, 2007

The Sopranos: What a load of crap! *spoiler*

Okay, I was not planning on watching the season finale, but Mr. Nonny Nu turned it over to HBO while I was making dinner. We just finished watching it. Lame. I wish we hadn't and said we didn't. This show has been stringing me along for seasons with promises of death and destruction. But, no, last season (the one I thought would be the final season), nothing significant happened. Half the time, we were in Lala Land, bouncing around in Tony's effed up mind. That mob boss with a psychological problem storyline got old about four seasons ago. I was hoping that maybe AJ would accidentally shoot Tony or something (God knows AJ wouldn't have the guts to do it on purpose).

But, back to this show. Tony doesn't die. He doesn't even have a brush with death. Practically everyone else around him either bites it or has something happen to them, but not Tony.

Lemme tell ya, this show has been one disappointing episode after another. Stringing us along with ominous hints about something happening. Nothing. NOTHING. I'm not sure if this was supposed to be like a modern-day extended Godfather (I'm reading the book right now, btw), but if it was, then it's just like every other modern-day rendition of something great from the past--a load of crap.

[edit] Okay, I have now watched half an hour of John from Cincinatti. This show has too high a stress to understanding ratio for me. Once again, lame. I wish HBO would stick to real shows like Rome. Now THAT was a real series that was worth paying for. Especially worth paying for was Ciaran Hinds, who portrayed Julius Caesar. Hubba hubba!! Well, I'm off to clean up the kitchen, take a bubble bath in my newly scrubbed tub, and then watch the newest episode of Flavor of Love: Charm School. (Go Becky!!)

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Saturday, June 9, 2007

Backyard Petting Zoo

Did you know that we have a petting zoo out back? That's right. Correctamundo. Es verdad.

Now, I present to you...La Cucarachas.

Possum (The People Under The Stairs)
Okay, so maybe they're more like under the deck, not the stairs. But, we have a family of possum living under the backyard deck. They will eat ANYTHING. Cat food, human food, you name it and they'll eat it. Here they are busily chomping away.

Blind Kitty (Missing In Action)
This little kitty might have went to the big market in the sky. Mr. Nonny Nu tells me that Blind Kitty's family may have just moved and taken him with them. I hope so. I really like Blind Kitty.

Skitty (Little Lady)
Now, here is one of the most ladylike cats you'll ever see. Her name is "Skitty" (short for skiddish kitty). One thing about Skitty, though--she can't control her tongue. See? It's still there!

Slim (Wolf in Wolf's Clothing)
Now, here's something I can't explain. There are some cats who are "stand off-ish" and there are some cats who assume they are welcome. This one is the latter. Can you tell? Slim visits us everyday for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Sushi Cat (Head Honcho)
Sushi likes to lounge and she doesn't like being bothered. Sure, sometimes she's nothing but a fleabag, but doesn't she have a pretty little face? Here she is with a goofy grin. But, she isn't just good for striking a pose. While the Nus snore away the starry night, Sush (pronounced "soosh") is busy patrolling the compound. Generally speaking, though, she likes to stay put on my lap.

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Thursday, June 7, 2007

The Motht Hated Profethion
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)


You know thothial workerth and lawyerth get a bad rap. There'th all kindth of thtereotypeth and bad joketh about people who have chothen thothe careerth. Everybody'th heard them ridiculed ath heartleth thelfith, and thleathy. But ath I thit here typing thith, with immeathurable amountth of thaliva oothing from the corner of my mouth - I've dethided that the real motht hated profethion thould be the dentitht.

Look at him up there^^^^, all wrapped in antitheptic gear, rubber gloveth that go up to hith elbowth, jutht waiting to dig hith little handth into my incredibly overthtretched and gaping mouth, hith whirring thounding toolth of math dethtruction ever ready to inflict inthcrutible pain to even the motht thuthpecting of thweet patientth like me. That'th what I had to fath today, cuth of a thingle cavity that needed fickthing. Now my teeth hurt worth than before. That'th why I believe the dentith ith offithially my motht hated profethion. Can I get a thecond opinion and pleath path the drool cup.

Thee, it wouldn't be tho dethpicable if the dentith would have left me with thome thembelanth of a chanth for otherth to underthtand me - but ath he wath concococting the mythtical potthion he thearched my fath and thaw the fear in my eyeth. He thwifthly moved forward - thrynge in his thweaty gloved up handth and without warning protheeded to thtab my gumth with thith thtrange and incapathitating fluid that may have left me permanently dithabled.

What'th with theth thadithtth? I mean it taketh a thpethial kind of thick to want to thpend 10 hourth a day with your fingerth in thomebody'th nathty mouth, doethn't it? Think of all the timeth theth bothoth are conthtantly plathing their notheth at the rethieving end of the putrid thmell of halitothith. Could you thtomach that?
Thith type of attracthion to the theedy thide of life ith what thetth the dentith up ath the motht hated profethion.

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Wednesday, June 6, 2007

So, What Does This Tell You About Me??

Remember a while back when I told you that we were playing musical chairs at work and I was moving into a new office? Well, there have been developments. I hope you weren't too attached to the little desk by the window or the hutch by the other window. Because they are both gone now. I had to give them up. I ordered something for my office and it arrived over a week ago, but I was just too busy to actually assemble it. So, for the past week, I have been squeezing between boxes and furniture and piles and piles of paper around my office.

Until now. Here, do you notice anything different? How about now? Yes, it's my new couch!* Oh, my little couchy pooh...

Oh, and here's my new table top.

But, let's check out my couch again! Hey, wait a minute...who's that?? Oh, it's Stubbie's Godmother hiding behind the pillow that MonkeyPig gave me before she went to Afghanistan.**

Anywhooo...I went for a run in the late afternoon, around quitting time, and here I am after the jump. (No, your eyes do not deceive you--the ends fold down into a twin futon bed!)

*Special thanks to Stubbie's Godmother for her assistance in putting together the couch.

**See, MonkeyPig? I was just waiting for couchy pooh to be delivered so that I could put your pillow in a prominent position in my little home away from home.

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Tuesday, June 5, 2007

One Small Step for Man from U.N.C.L.E.
by Man from U.N.C.L.E. (guest blogger)

So The World of Nonny Nu will never be the same, as The Man from U.N.C.L.E. ventures for the very first time into the realm of guest blog contributor. Let's all pray to our personal higher power(s) that it isn't all awkward and fumble-y and pre-mature like so many other first times. I've taken the necessary precautions such as they are (*thought about cement* *recited alphabet backwards* *got hung up at the illusive PONML and had to start over*) and hope Nonny Nu's readers will do the same.

When Nonny Nu asked last week if I'd be interested in contributing, I was all gung-whore, thinking that I could whip something off without much thought. But writing - even minus all items of apparel which were quickly shed (obviously with no brain activity) - only showed how bereft of clothing and original thought I was. I got filled with anxiety like I was during my other first time, worrying if I'd measure up to all the guest bloggers that Nonny Nu had had before; the adventureous Monkeypig, the cleverly frustrated Freelance Midget, and the fish seeking Cl. Panic. Would I be as good as them? Would I be as good as Nonny Nu was to her own blog? Would my contributions warrant a second date? Would it be as good for you as I hope it'd be for me? And what about my needs?

After I pulled myself together and stopped whining like a little cry-baby bitch, I pulled up my bootstraps and turned my brave face to the world (of Nonny Nu). I began bold brainstorming as a technique of foreplay. I put on my most seductive, pleading gaze and romanced this blog. Soon this very blog entry was screaming, "Yes, Yes, Yes!!!" Then, "No, No, No!!!" To which, much like my last first time - I replied "Ooops!"

Damn! Pre-mature again.


So with that as the pre-amble of this very first guest blog contribution by the Man from U.N.C.L.E., I am still filled with questions. I spend a lot of time on the internet and find that most often the people I end up conversing with are women. Women of all ages and backgrounds with diverse levels of education and a multitudinous range of personal and psychological development. It would be like striking gold or finding diamonds or falling into an Amazon Jungle if I were a straight male, but that is not the case. So I ask you - wise and beloved readers of TWoNN - put on your Will & Grace thinking caps and tell me what it is about us gay guys that straight women find so fascinating? Why are we so safe to befriend? Do you think that somewhere in the recesses of some straight women's minds that they want to be the one who straightens out us men loving men (pun intended)? Or are we really just substitute girlfriends for them?


* I apologize in retrospect for my completely 1957 technological ability to post cool links within the text. Even with the previous Nonny Nu tutorial, I still require remedial lessons.

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