Hickory dickory schlock and the crooked hat

THE CROOKED HAT

This is for Judith's Hat Attack 31 linkup at Style Crone, my crooked hat. 

There was a cooked hat perched on a crooked head, 

It stopped the crooked rain with its lime and crooked reds, 

It shielded crooked eyes from crooked evil sights  

And when it got back home it cried, "Take me to New York!"

HICKORY DICKORY SCHLOCK

Hickory Dictory Schlock

Your mouse hued up her frock

The image froze

And wrecked my pose

Hickory Dickory Schlock

I'd been fermenting his mouseover idea for at least 24 hours, and although this resultant draft is not yet 100 proof, it's palatable with drunken overtones of Ghost/Muppet/Meanie and bits of pickle - anything to take the edge off and quench my self-defecating sense of humour. Moving right along...

Note: If you roll your mouse - or whatever else you use - across the above photo, the image should change, hence "mouseover," also known as "rollover." If it doesn't work, clearly you need to upgrade to an older device or drink more of my special brew.

I dressed to match my hair - too lazy to push the hair dryer ON switch. And too lazy to change for my morning walk - this is what I often wear at home.

After I saw my photos, I quickly realized I look exactly like Turnip Head, so I put her in there too. She is also a happy nursery-rhymie yet cynical creature.

I'm wearing a ghastly oversized men's shirt, thrifted, purchased when I was delusional thinking I would upcycle it. Pfff. It's so stiff it makes a crinkling sound. Soft cotton patchwork drawstring pants, oversized long-sleeve orange T-shirt, and reading glasses over my regular glasses with clip-on shades. Holy hot harridan!

And, just when you thought you'd made it to the end of the post, no!! Another few seconds of creepy vexation.

THE BIG FINISH

I made this tiny video message at the end of December. I wasn't going to show you, but why not? I suppose this is to celebrate Chinese New Year, February 8, heh. She is scary cool.

I've found a new favourite British sitcom on Netflix, Black Books, which ran from 2000 to 2004. I use it to de/retox at the end of my work-filled days and get trippy dreams. Watch it! Well, if you want to.

I'm of course linking to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and
Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb, and
Anne at 52 Pick-me-up: Ink Blue at SpyGirl.
Including Judith's Hat Attack, there nothing like hitting FOUR big parties on Monday morning to kick off the week. I hope I see you there. I'll be the one staggering into the bushes.

How to do a laugh pose

And here I am laughing my head off, just like I did in the previous post where I'm wearing a swimsuit, me, the woman who never wears miniskirts, at least without leggings, and rarely shows her bare legs at all. Even toes are a revelation.

When I smile furtively for self-timer photos I feel like a massive doink. When I don't smile at all, well, we know the cruelty of gravity. What I realized is, why settle for massive when I can be mega-ultra-super-massive? Hell, yeah, baby!!! Go all the way! Enter: the dreaded laugh pose.

In that photo you might think I'm joking with the camera crew - well, yeah, I kind of am because I am the crew and I enjoy a warped sense of humour. 

Admittedly, just standing there in the stairwell with a tripod is an odd thing to do. The words narcissist documentarian, vain confidence-building, blogger anthropologist, and idiot idiot all spring to mind.

Look, more laughing! But so different with another outfit - you might not even recognize me!! Hahahaha!! Hahahaha!!! 

You must be wondering how I achieve this effortless, frolicking supermodel effect. Well, wonder no more!!

Secrets to the laugh pose revealed: 

• Um, open your mouth and show your teeth. That's all. No need to continue reading.
• Toss your head around a little, like you slept funny or you're at the beach and one of your fellow frolickers is about to throw you a giant inflatable beach ball. Hahaha! Hahaha! Everyone is so happy and rich and disconnected from reality. It's mmmarvellous.
• Scrinch up your eyes a bit so your open mouth and teeth look friendly, not like you're about to rip into a steak and fries. Of course, my wrinkles do most of the work for me. (Hide your fork and knife.)
• You may want to vocalize. It's impossible to put into words the sound I make, so I leave it to you to develop your own special sound.

Of course this technique only works when I'm in a safe, secure environment. Like my concrete stairwell. I know - I tried it outside today in the alley. So many people; you'd think I was in a city or something! 

When strangers are around during a shoot I could probably pretzelize a steel pipe with my sphincter. Check out that boot fringe action up there. Run! Onlookers make me get a serious face, like that:

Where's my fecking beach ball? Clearly I'm going to have to work on my outdoor laugh pose. 

Below I am wearing: thrifted low-rise Hilfiger capris from My Sister's Closet, shaggy green boots from Fluevog, thrifted blouse from Value Village, scarf from I forget (a popular source of clothing as the years progress), magic loupe and mechanical wristwatch from O. The Sheila stair pose got accordioned.

After I put these green clothes on they started whining for a compliment (heh) complement, as in complementary colour, so I added the hot pink scarf as a tie just before I went out the door. Whew - style disaster averted by quick thinking! Who wants to look like a leprechaun? Well, at least not on that particular day.

Is that a bug on my tripod?

Wearing: blue kimono-ish tunic made in Japan, from the meetup clothing swap via Patti (thank you!), thrifted Anthropologie pants, black fringed Fluevog boots from Timeline Boutique, clanking bracelets, magic loupe, vintage earrings bought new at I forget.

Bloglovin' is having a contest to see who can get the most followers in x amount of time. I stopped reading when I saw it was designed for people with fewer than 10,000 followers. Hahaha. I'm imagining they're throwing me a beach ball in the desert.

How's your week? How's your laugh pose? Got any secrets of the schtars you'd care to share?