Moose Horn is one of my favorite lakes to fish. It tends to have around 11 inch rainbows. They stock it with lots of albinos which you can see and are pretty easy to catch. Albino trout don't have very good eyesight so I have found a flashy crystal killer or leech patten will work best.

I caught this guy on my second cast of the day on a black mini leech.

Another albino just about to be released.

Here is my dad landing a trout.

I caught a few little Brook Trout. They have always been my favorite. This little guy actually hit my fly so hard he pulled my fly line out of my hands as i was retrieving it.

If you show up right after they stock the lake (before any holiday weekend) you will find lots of these little planters.

]]> http://houseofdoom.wordpress.com/?p=47 Tue, 01 Jul 2008 04:48:19 +0000 lucy http://houseofdoom.wordpress.com/?p=47 is there something wrong with me? I don't LOVE this new Marc Jacobs collection:

maybe it's because

a) i'm not an eight year old billionaire,

b) those kids are aliens

or

c) kids 'fashion' makes me nauseous.

forget Henson, Jacobs is your man, paedophile task force.

Exhibit A:

http://www.marcjacobs.com

i couldn't cut & paste the photos from here, but do visit the above link and see for yourself the full catalogue of elfin waifs draped in MJ couture. If the FBI hasn't shut it down yet. special attention must be paid to the albino child with the lime-green silk shirt. that kid must be Jacobs' 'special friend', a la Macaulay Culkin. which leads me to...

Exhibit B:

MJ. Marc Jacobs. Michael Jackson. code for child sex. did i elaborate too much? in this age of pomo-homo-ness, elaboration is so passe. so i'm passe. i'm fine with that. bite me.

Exhibit C:

this child clearly cannot surf. this is false advertising. this is wrong. like paedophiles.

Exhibit D:

this is a classic example of 'older black male child leads younger latino-white female child into sex lair for child sexographer to document extensively'. just quietly, that dude has GOT IT. LAY-BY!

and while we're on the topic of task forces and child exploitation, how GOOD was Boston Legal last night? The "No Child Left Behind" Act (a North American set of laws regarding public education, that was signed by Bush in 2002) was brought into question once before in BL (see http://www.arizonaea.org/politics.php?page=282&sub_page=252), by M.J.Fox (ANOTHER MJ. except this one IS a child, so can't be a pedophile - although that could be his schtick: he lures the small sexually appealing children with his child-like-ness). But last night's episode, cleverly titled "No Brains Left Behind" was VERY clear that this law should simply not exist. Candice Bergen (AKA old lady sexpot, AKA that scarf-wearing, one-position-standing exemplerary student of the the David E. Kelley school of chin wobble) was the main trumpeter of its demise, and she was rather fantastic in her rare moment in the soapbox spotlight.

Alan Shore (AKA, the breathing woman's man, AKA the object of my post-adolescent lawyer-cum-coastguard-cum-onmyface desires), was off fighting more important battles, of course - against the National Guard, in two separate cases: one for failing to come to the aid of a pizza shop that Denny likes when it was flooded, and the other for denying Alan and Denny entry into the NG because they are older than 42 (what an arbitrary age for the NG to decide a man or woman may no longer serve their country!). Needless to say, Alan and Denny's exploits were genius. Hilarity abounded.

be still my beating heart.

-lucy

Designer: Sruli Recht
Originally commissioned for Valgeir Sigurðsson Greenhouse in Iceland, Icebear is a limited edition fur made from pelt scraps in 10 shades on arctic white. In addition there are also special variations in black, brown and albino. The entire fur is made from sheepskin scraps, 15 to be exact - normally tossed out. They’re arranged and sewn together to look like a butchers diagrammatic poster identifying different cuts of meat. The product plays with this idea of waste sold as luxury products where the teddy bear appearance wipes the naive comical portrayal of a polar-bear rug, the decorative paragon of man over beast. Look out for it soon packed and ready to ship around the world.

The week in fundie:

1. In Tanzania, albinos used to be the object of simple persecution, for much the same mindless and irrational reasons that such people would be ostracised anywhere in the world: because of their physical appearance. Now, because of a belief across Africa that albinos have magical powers, and because witchdoctors are promoting the belief that potions containing albino skin, bones and hair can make people wealthy, albinos are being hunted for their body parts. The New York Times reports one such case:
   

   The young are often the targets. In early May, Vumilia Makoye, 17, was eating dinner with her family in their hut in western Tanzania when two men showed up with long knives.Vumilia was like many other Africans with albinism. She had dropped out of school because of severe near-sightedness, a common problem for albinos, whose eyes develop abnormally and who often have to hold things like books or cellphones two inches away to see them. She could not find a job because no one would hire her. She sold peanuts in the market, making $2 a week while her delicate skin was seared by the sun.

   When Vumilia’s mother, Jeme, saw the men with knives, she tried to barricade the door of their hut. But the men overpowered her and burst in.

   “They cut my daughter quickly,” she said, making hacking motions with her hands.

   The men sawed off Vumilia’s legs above the knee and ran away with the stumps. Vumilia died.

   The article also refers to the murder in Kenya of an albino woman, whose eyes, tongues and breasts were gouged out. This is where magical thinking can lead, people. It can lead to superstitious thugs breaking down the door of your house and hacking your children to death. (HT: Dogma Free America. See also The Standard.)

2. A Saudi government-controlled school in suburban Washington DC uses textbooks that instruct that it is OK for Muslims to kill ex-Muslims, adulterers and polytheists. (AP)
3. The Sydney Morning Herald reports on The Family, the "most influential and enduring religious force" in US politics that you never knew existed.
4. Mark Steyn may be a hysterical moron, but that doesn't justify his Orwellian-cum-Inquisitorial treatment at the hands of British Columbia's "Human Rights" Commission. (CBC News)
5. But things aren't all bad in British Columbia. In a Supreme Court ruling, a Jehovah's Witness couple has been denied the right to murder their children in the name of religious dogma. (AFP)
6. The Church of Scientology has employed "fair game" tactics against a disabled critic, filing a false report of "assault" against him, and reporting his cultivation of medical cannabis. (Bay Area Indymedia)
7. Scientologists have also employed deception in order to proselytise to students at a Catholic school assembly in Vancouver. A CoS front-group, "Youth for Human Rights International," held a presentation at the assembly without disclosing its links to Scientology, and distributed pamphlets listing L. Ron Hubbard as a "famous human rights leader." (Media Syndicate)
8. And because I know you can never get enough Scientology nuttery in a single day, HULIQ reports on a leaked 1968 recording of L. Ron Hubbard in which the Scientology founder advances the thesis that stories about Jesus are "alien implants." Hubbard also expounds on Scientology's creation myth, for which see the South Park episode "Trapped in the Closet." MP3 recordings and transcripts of the 1968 lecture are available at Wikileaks.
9. A whiny Christian student who (a) thinks she has a right not to be offended, and (b) regards critical thinking (especially about one's own beliefs) as offensive to her beliefs, filed a complaint with the American Center for Law and Justice (a Christian fundamentalist law firm founded by Pat Robertson) after her philosophy professor projected a "C" grade based on her resistance to "providing any reasoning to support her assertions." Said law firm then told lies, contra Biblical Commandment number 8 (if you're Catholic) or 9 (if you're Protestant), claiming that its intervention (it sent a strongly-worded letter to the nasty evil oppressive philosophy professor) had saved the student from a failing grade she was never projected to get in the first place, and falsely accusing the professor of hating "the very idea of Christians." (7thSpace; see also Friendly Atheist)

Era uma vez um parque que ficava lá perto da Central do Brasil, sim, aquela mesma. Lá  era uma parte um pouco erma e deserta da cidade. O parque não era só arborizado, também tinha ilustres habitantes como patos, gansos, marrecos, rolinhas, etc. Foi pensando neles que um mendigo nas proximidades resolveu pular a cerca e se convidar pra jantar.

Toda aquela passarada, gordinha, bem alimentada, tratada na papinha de milho para escolher e nosso famélico amigo resolve traçar...o pavão albino, o único do parque. Óbvio. Quem vai querer assar um marreco plebeu quando vê passar um glorioso penacho branco daqueles? E ele vai, agarra o passarão e é aquele estardalhaço. Mas tanto, mas tanto que os travestis fazendo ponto ali do lado de fora do parque viram e se deparam com o vagabundo judiando daquele pássaro glorioso, vitaminado, um luxo.

Não deu outra. Em um segundo, mais de meia dúzia de marmanjos deram um jeito de pular a cerca do parque, vestindo minissaia e salto 10, gritando Ai meu pavão albino, larga nosso passarinho, seu bruto!, e foi batom e peruca pra todo lado, pena voando, os travestis no mendigo, o mendigo no pavão, o pavão na velha e a velha a fiar.Mas já era tarde. Àquela altura, o bichinho já tinha ciscado as botas e o mendigo, bom, o mendigo já estava linchado mesmo.

Só restava aos travestis sacodir a poeira, retocar o pó, recolher as penas e voltar a reboletear por aí. Mas já que começamos com Era uma vez, fica de moral da história que ninguém nunca mais se atreveu a se meter com uma ave tão, digamos assim, purpurinada.

E viveram no luxo para sempre, que delícia.

The end.

(créditos finais:

argumento: luiz com z

frase de fechamento: mirella com 2 eles.)

an albino squirrel!  he doesn't even need to look at what he is doing... 

This is the most insane thing I've ever heard of. And it's so sad. The albinos can't afford sunscreen, and their neighbors don't need it because they're super duper black and don't get that sunburnt.

I understand (maybe) hunting albino crocodiles or something, but people? This is like Hitler making lampshades from people who had a lot of neat tattoos.

I'm not sure if it's a habit, or 'an institution.' After 12 weeks you feel as if you're living in an institution, just without the round the clock nursing care and free drugs. Big Brother has returned, and for the third year running I will be providing my almost compulsory, Big Brother Blog.

I'm sure, as in other years, I will get addicted. I have no justification for this. I'd like to claim it's because I'm 'fascinated by people' or 'intrigued by the intense interpersonal relationships'. In reality I want to marvel at the madness of the wannabes, find someone sympathetic and feel my stomach turn as two over-amorous types get friendly with one eye on messy satisfaction, the other on the monetary value of an on-screen fumble when they step out to a crescendo of boos.

Meeting the new housemates for the first time is usually something I find quite painful. I watch a lot of it from behind a cushion, just as I did when the mild mannered Bruce Banner was turning into the monstrous Incredible Hulk as a five year old. I much preferred the Generation Game back in the infant school day.  That bit where they had to remember the prizes that passed them by on the conveyor belt was something of an obsession...' coffee percolator, cuddly lion, sandwich toaster, crystal decanter, Leo Sayer, a years supply of Vesta Curry..' that kind of thing.

 I can see definite comparisons between Big Brother and the Hulk. Even the mildest mannered housemate is likely to turn into a raging green loon within a few weeks.

It's an interesting collection of people this year I feel. Or should that be an interesting collection of men. The women, with the exception of Kathreya, the bouncy Thai Massage Therapist in the ridiculous platforms, and Rebecca the gabby nursery nurse from Coventy, are all essentially the same person. Skinny, mildly attractive in interchangeable frocks and heels, not stupid, but probably unlikely to be troubling Baroness Mary Warnock as Britain's premier moral philosopher. I might be wrong of course. Stephanie (the one pretending to be Mario's girlfriend) might be quietly penning a tract on Foucault, or musing quietly over the ethics of the latest discovery in bio-genetics, in between looking in the mirror, flicking her hair and telling everyone how brilliant she is.

This surface similarity though will dissolve within a few weeks, if not days. They'll all be very different, and even though they will tonight be promising to be best friends forever, by Thursday week they'll be pouring bleach onto each other's clothes, and setting about the weakest member of the group with the kind of shock and awe tactics not seen since the first Gulf War.

Within the blokes, there seems to be a definite lack of the male mirror of the female BB 'type'. That of the cheeky, reasonably good looking, off-the-peg lad. Dale fits the bill quite nicely and will doubtless be popular. Mario is too old, and a bit like a kindly big brother, or trendy uncle. One who runs a gym and takes you to play squash 'to get you out from under your mum's feet' during the long Summer holidays from secondary school. He doesn't read books, because he's too busy and feels the fact that you do is probably ' a bit unhealthy' as you should be setting fire to things, or finding illegal supplies of anabolic steroids on the internet.

Dennis is the obligatory very camp Scottish bloke. It is now technically illegal to have a Big Brother without a really screaming chap from north of the Tweed, bouncing around like he's eaten eight bags of Haribo Teddies, dunked his head in Orangina then plugged himself into the mains. This is a dastardly Engish conspiracy to undermine the historical idea of the Scots as a tough martial race.  If Big Brother is to believed every man north of the Border makes me look like Steven Seagal in comparison. Doubtless this issue will be raised in Holyrood shortly.

I found Luke endearing in his chipper, motormouth, mildly camp, George Formby way. He's a politics nerd who likes wearing suits, doesn't swear or drink and thinks the missionary position is really called 'the military position.' The boy will go a long way. Just mark my words. I'm sure he'll be leader of whatever party he's a member of (Lib Dem or Tory boy ? Not quite made my mind up) within five years. I think the nation is in incredibly safe hands.

Michael the blind crossdressing Glaswegian seemed likeable, and Darnell the Ipswich born (Rachel cheered wildly at this point..my Rachel, not the one in the house...she grew up in da Swich...my Rachel, not the one in the house) had been handed enough of a rough deal in life to crush most people. He must be the most 'other' person to ever enter the place. It will be interesting to see how he gets on, and also how other people deal with him. It will probably be quite revealing about individual character and when he turned up at auditions, the BB producers must have felt all their Christmasses had come at once.

The rich guy I think might have more too him than at first meets the eye, but then again. Mohammed seemed like a likeable guy on first impressions, but my initial judgements usually unravel within a few weeks.

The couple twist was an evil work of genius. No good will come of it. You mark my words. I think if I had been one half of a couple in there at that point, I would calmly have asked to leave.

But then I would never apply to go on in the first place. Being stuck in a house with anyone who isn't my other half for more than about 24 hours  is agony. Locked in a weird studio/cyber-house  with a load of in your face strangers would definitely make me lose my tender grip on what passes for sanity within roughly 72 hours. I'd be in the diary room weeping for release. Or a shotgun.

Mind you, if Shami Chakrabarti and Dr Alice Roberts ever wanted to do a Celebrity one with me in there pretending to be a former member of a failed boy band then I could be convinced. In the meantime, here's a conveyor belt of goodies...

 
<
 

Per vedere le foto CLICCATE QUA

All-white robins are rare, especially on the West Coast. A gentleman named Greg Ordy has created an informative website for documented sightings of these birds. You can visit his site by following this link.

This is my cat Sam. Sam does crazy things. He takes pictures of himself, for one. He also has sent an E-mail and re-named our hard drive. He has many names, including, but not limited to, white trash, white lightning, wolfo, albino-ray (pronounced albeeno ray), and snow demon. He is an albino despite his having a grey spot in the back of his head and blue eyes, as far as cats go he is considered albino. The spot supposedly fades with time, and there haven't been any discoveries of albino cats with red eyes. Sam is also deaf, and a spaz. He even likes to get up in my parents sink and take naps. (I'll post a pic of this later.)  No one can rival this kitty, whom we rescued from the wilderness behind the Quiznos in the Office park area of the Arbo.

While at another local pet store I got to check out their ball pythons and hold one. I'm smitten. I want one. I told myself I need a more regular job first, so I'm working on that. But ZOMG they are so gorgeous and cute! Of course the one I wanted, the one with the more red tones, was the snappiest of the three. I always seem to go for the most difficult pets, and it's not on purpose. They just attract me. Maybe I just like a challenge?

Please click, for the full image.

The character is Simone, an albino, who I haven't drawn in forever so it seemed fitting.