Tuts My Barreh

On A More Serious Note

Sorry to be a Debbie Downer right now, everyone, but I feel I must share something with you; especially those of you with your own blogs. I received an email today from EntreCard, which is an advertising system I signed up with a few months ago that basically allows you to trade advertising space with any other site in the system that chooses your website, specifically, to advertise on. If you scroll down towards the bottom of the page, you'll see it in the right-hand column. Anyway, this is what they had to say:

"Your account 'Homemade Hilarity' on entrecard.com has been warned. The administrator provided the following message:

Please be aware that nudity on your blog is against the TOS - please remove the images - thanks.

Please contact support@entrecard.com if you have any questions regarding this warning.

PLEASE NOTE: You are expected to resolve this issue promptly. Failure to do so will result in the removal of your Entrecard account.

Please include the following:
User ID: 39883"

So, after chewing it over for a while, this was my response:

"I think it is clear that I do not have any nudity on my blog. Especially not any pornographic images. My website pokes fun of bad art and misguided crafts, and what it does not do is post gratuitous images of nudity for people to get aroused by. I feel there is a massive and inherent difference between a painted depiction of the human form, especially when it is laughable, and pictures that are simply lewd and mature. I am not a porn peddler, and I must admit, I am extremely offended by your threat and your insinuation. I will not be taking down any aspect of my writing, as I have done nothing wrong, and I am very miffed that you feel you can dictate to me what I can, and can't, write about in the world of art. Would you censor Reuben or Matisse because of their affinity for the naked female form? Certainly not. So, as an art critic, I should not be made to feel that I am doing something smutty and undignified by simply sharing these (pg-13 at the very worst) art pieces and writing about them. Shame on you.

JuliaD
http://www.homemadehilarity.blogspot.com
mizzdrake@hotmail.com
User ID: 39883"

Feel free to add to this discussion in the comments here, or alternatively, you can email Entrecard at support@entrecard.com and let them know what you think about this decision (just make sure to quote my User ID: 39883).

I'll be back with funny pictures later on today, I promise.

You Have Got To Be Effing Kidding Me

(To be read in an exasperated and I-don't-have-time-for-this-kind-of-shit tone, as frankly, I am exasperated and I don't have time for this kind of shit.)

Oh come on. A knitted knock-off Mrs. Piggy air-freshener cover?! Really?! Really?! Did we learn nothing, nothing at all from the now-famous wall-eyed cat air-freshener cover? Seriously, I'm done. DONE, I tell you, with all this ridiculous knitted tomfuckery.

Listen, crafters, and listen closely: IF YOUR AIR-FRESHENER COVER IS UGLIER THAN YOUR AIR-FRESHENER, YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG.

This Is What Bat-Shit Crazy Looks Like

Yeah, I don't know either. It's a peanut. A peanut with accessories. An accessoried peanut. And I have a feeling that it's waaay more fug than the artist assumes it is. Because it's a freaking peanut with accessories. In a walnut. With an acorn hat. An acorn hat with a pom-pom. It's a peanut in a walnut with an acorn hat with a pom-pom. And a letter E. And I officially give up.

Good Golly Miss Molly

Note to crafters: When you find yourself turning your mom's kitchen curtains into an oversized floral bonnet for your mildly-retarded looking plastic doll, it's time to put down the wine coolers and back away slowly from the sewing machine.



That's right, Rhonda, I'm talking to you.

On a different note, this site was recently featured in The Times, Acadania's weekly newspaper! Yay for Louisianaianans!

What's Pink and White and Dead All Over?

Do you know what this is? Because I do. It's a dead baby stuffed into a shoe, with bunny ears and a dust ruffle added on for maximum effect.

Charming, really, just charming.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back (Possibly NSFW)

Lordy lordy lordy, look what I found: if these aren't the sexiest things you've ever seen, you don't know sexy like I know sexy. Because believe me, these are tittilating.

Just look at his rippling ass-muscles, gleaming under a thick layer of crisco and spray-tan. Feel seduced by the way he's coyly biting his finger in a manner which suggests that if he were to have a platter handy, his ass would be on it and he would be gifting it to you. Fall prey to the way he's charmingly posing backwards and naked with a motorcycle, as if you just accidentally cought him while he was naked and backwards on his motorcycle. Let his neanderthalish good looks whisk you off to your special no-no place of pure sex. Rawr.

Ooh, let's call this sexy beast Julio, shall we? Julio wants you desperately and longingly to come hither and will stare at you uncomfortably until you do so, which of course no girl (or some guys) can resist. And while Julio's legs may be freakishly small, at least his boobs are a c-cup! At long last, my wildest exotic man-boobie fantasies have come to life!

IKEA Fails Are Spectacular And Affordable

Oh IKEA, thou hast maketh me titter with delight.
I might even go as far as to say that you have made me chortle lengthily.
In fact, I continue to LOL heartily at your floor lamp, BUKT, which I must say, looks nothing like a floor lamp. That is because it looks like intestines. It looks like intestines more than anything else I have ever seen, other than actual intestines. And yet, you think it is a floor lamp.

Crazy Swedes with their crazy Swedish mass-marketed intestinal floor lamps at affordable prices, and their 5-for-a-dollar meatballs. When will they learn.

***UPDATE***
So I actually went to IKEA a couple days ago (I had a hankering for pre-fabricated kitchens and lingenberry. What can I say.) and I actually saw this lamp in person. Let me just tell you - it's a hell of a lot bigger than I was expecting, and even more hideous than I ever could have imagined. Just thought you might want to know. It's massive. Seriously - it's like 10ft long.

How Fat Are You, Exactly?

Wow. Really, just wow. I think that, quite possibly, this is the worst idea ever. Seriously. If only I were exaggerating. Honestly, the only thing that could possibly make this tape-measure belt any worse is a matching pair of loafers with scales in the soles and a digital display for your forehead, and that's only marginally worse. I think I can honestly say that I would rather hire a small child to hold up my pants all day than use a tape measure as a belt. In fact, if given the choice, I would rather staple my jeans to my abdomen than wear a tape measure as a belt. Hell, I would surely prefer to not wear any pants at all and wrap the tape measure around my face enough times to obscure my identity (and/or lose consciousness) than actually wear a tape-measure as a belt. It is just that bad of an idea.

BTW, is anyone else wondering what the holy fuck happened to this crafter's bellybutton?

... In Bed

Here you go, my bebehs, it's a fortune cookie keychain smoking a cigarette.

I feel like there should be a joke in there somewhere but I'm a bit too lazy today to go digging for it. If you got something good, leave it in the comments and I'll post my favorite.

**Alright, HumorSmith, thanks a bunch! The winning line was: The key to making a fortune go up in smoke.

Unadulterated Jackassery

So I was being a jackass the other day and I managed to sprain my ankle quite thoroughly. Hard to imagine, I know - me being a jackass. But yes, it is true, and now the couch and I are becoming well acquainted. And, while I lay here in my unending mire of self-pity, milking it for all it's worth, I'm left to simply sit and continuously contemplate the full depths of my jackassery, which trust me, is as extensive as you think it is. My one consolation, though, through all of this, is that the world of crafting has once again shown me that there are always bigger jackasses than me, which is always mildly reassuring.

For example, what jackass thought this shit was okay:


It's called "Sunrise From A Blind Man's Eyes", which would be fine, except for the fact that the artist isn't blind. He's just a jackass. A JAckass with a capital J (and A as well- It's a typo but I'm keeping it) that thinks that blind people can see colors, but only when they're splattered and primary. If I were blind, and I could see this, I would be freaking offended.

Oh, I'm feeling better already. It's amazing how thoroughly mocking someone else's jackassery can raise a person's spirits. Sunny days ahead, my friends, sunny days ahead.

Leprechauns Make Me Swear-y

It is a little-known fact about me that, along with spiders and needles and one-eyed gypsies, I am terrified of leprechauns. I'm not totally sure why, but I think it has something to do with their corn-kernel teeth, generally unhygienic facial hair, and gleefully evil ways. They're miniature red-headed con men, running around picking pockets and speaking in cryptic rhyme, thinking themselves so freaking smart, and frankly, I'm sick of it. I'm absolutely done with their asinine fuckery, and I think, if I were to ever meet a leprechaun, I would want to punch it. That's all I'm saying.

But, as always, I am willing to keep an open mind about these scheisty little bastards, so in the spirit of St. Patrick's Day I've decided to take a closer look at the many different representations of these tiny gold-hoarding assholes.

Judging by this magnificent throw pillow, clearly my hatred and fear of leprechauns is completely unfounded. He's not terrifying at all. Not in the least.

This, obviously, is a leprechaun on a stick in a vase. Made just for all of your leprechaun-on-a-stick-in-a-vase needs. And I mean all of them! Every last one of your leprechaun-on-a-stick-in-a-vase needs.

Oh, you just know I had to have a crocheted leprechaun somewhere. A crocheted leprechaun with a green pompom nose and googly eyes and monkey ears. And you would be right.


I'm not sure if I agree with this specific leprechaun's message. Perhaps "Kiss me, I'm a burn victim" would be more apt. Or maybe "Kiss me, I'm an alien", or even "Kiss me, I don't have any ears, yet I do have a stove-pipe hat". Alternatively, it's quite possible that this is an accurate representation of the Irish people and they've managed to keep it a secret all this time. In which case, fair play to them.

Dear lord.
Irish blessings are freaking terrifying.
I had no idea.

It's a sad sign of the times when even the beloved Christmas NutCracker has to pick up a second job just to make ends meet. And, by the look of it, he isn't overjoyed either.

So there we have it, folks! Happy St. Patrick's Day! Go have a Guinness and party, but remember, don't craft drunk! And if you do, send me pictures ;)

Tonight's Nightmares On Me, Free of Charge

I can't quite put my finger on why, but this picture of a crafter and their new necklace scares the living bejeezus out of me.

Terrifying.

Wow. I Clearly Overestimated My Fan Base.

After yesterday's overwhelming response to a couple badly-made vaginas, I think I'm gonna roll with it and offer up some ovaries today in the hopes of really sparking a Twitter frenzy. Then maybe I'll make some fart jokes and talk about boobies for a while, before I spend an hour making muscles into my bedroom mirror. Amazing, isn't it, how absolutely everyone on the internet is a 12-year-old boy. Astounding, really.

But first, one last vagina to really send you all a-flutter:

That should tide over all your pre-pubescent minds for at least a few days, let's hope. I mean, it's made out of purple satin and sequins and everything.

And here we go, my fellow middle-schoolers, this is what a rainbow knitted door-hanging uterus with pom-pom ovaries looks like. Because I'm sure you were wondering. Try not to get too excited.


And this is a glitter poof-paint uterus shirt currently for sale on Etsy, for those of us who want to be able to wear a hideous diagram of our baby-making machines in all of its glittering, poof-painted glory.


I already ordered mine as a sheet set in orange.

Special thanks goes out today to one of my favoritest bloggers out there, HeatherCherry, who, like myself, thinks that fruit cozies are god's gift to mankind. If you don't know what a fruit cozy is, you need to go to her site and see it to believe it.

I Have Two Vaginas

Sorry everyone! I'm feeling a bit under the weather today, so I'm just gonna leave you with these:


Yes, it's a vagina. A knit vagina.


And this? This is a vagina wallet.

Enjoy.

Malformed and Congealing... Professionalism at its Best

Finally! Someone has addressed my urgent need for a professional-looking desk-top pencil slash business card holder. Nothing screams "I am a capable and trustworthy business-like person" than a melting, shit colored, should-have-been-paper-mache'd-and-that's-saying-a-lot pencil slash business card holder. For, you know, your desk. At work. To impress your colleagues and clients. I mean, if this doesn't strike a sense of fear, admiration, and awe into the very heart of all who behold it, I'm not sure what will.

FYI, as always, this was made by an adult, and is currently for sale at the low low price of only $15.99 on Etsy! Will the wonders never cease.

When 2+2=Heinous

Just like peanut butter and chocolate, football and spandex, and Britney Spears and Cheetos, many of my favorite things in life go together like rama lama lama ke ding a de dinga a dong. It's called symbiosis, and it's a beautiful thing.

Unfortunately, though, not everything fantastic in life mixes as well as vodka and apple pucker, a concept that some crafters appear to take as a personal challenge. Unfortunately.

For example:
I like beer, and I like hats. And yet...


This beerhat is just awful.
Just awful.

Again; I like cake, and I like presents. Yet...


I don't think I like my presents wrapped in cake.
In fact, I'm temped to write this crafter a citation for egregious misuse and/or abuse of pastry, which as far as I am concerned, should be illegal. Very, very illegal.

Lastly; I like watermelon, and I'm definitely down with recycling, yet...

I think this is all-kinds-of god-forsaken ugly. Shocking, I know, given the level of craftsmanship.

Still Stripping After 25 Years

I've come to the realization recently that it's not just the lowly budding crafters who can fail spectacularly at not being unintentionally hilarious. No, it can be anyone involved in the professional process as well, including writers and editors and even publishers, and I have the proof:

What, exactly, are we not supposed to throw away? the 10-foot tall chair made out of a malformed 2x4, or the lamp made out of what appears to be a pasta maker, or the stunning gypsy/soda can hybrid? Because, frankly, I would argue that it is all begging to get thrown away.

This book's title almost seems like the start of a really bad joke, doesn't it? Like, "More fishermen crochet than politicians who don't drink". Or "More fishermen crochet than bankers who don't give themselves huge bonuses while everyone else around them goes bankrupt." Or "More fishermen crochet than hookers bathe."

Aww, bless. She's still got it, even after all these years. It's nice to know that al least there's some longevity in this line of work. And by that I mean quilting, the line of work known as quilting.

*Thanks to David D and Anna P for their infallible abilities to spot crapfts that are ridiculous.

More Cowbell! And Talent - More Talent!

As far as I am concerned, this is sacrilege. This is a dirty, unholy sacrilege and this crafter deserves to suffer eternally in a purgatory of melting crayons, perpetually broken sewing machines, and glitter. And I mean the kind of glitter that gets in every orifice and STAYS THERE. The kind of glitter that somehow winds up in your cereal even when you haven't used any in weeks and you have to make the difficult decision at 7am to either eat the glitter too or throw away your whole bowl of cereal. The kind of glitter that SUCKS. Yeah, I said it.

I mean, honestly now - not only has this artistically-devoid blasphemer dared to even create a graven image of The Walken, but to do it so amazingly badly? Where is The Walken's ethereal glow? His physics-defying pompadour? The ominpresent glint in his eye borne of a spirit made of pure unadulterated awesomeness? This is a travesty I tell you, a travesty.

And no, it's not one of those pictures that makes another face when you turn it upside down. I already tried.

Knit For Her Pleasure

This, my gentle readers, is a hat. A perfectly normal, handmade woollen stocking hat. For your head. Yes, your head. Your head with ears. Because it's a hat.

Ugly and Useless? Worth Every Penny!

Ever since I started this website a long, long time ago last December, I've slowly been building up a collection of knitted food items. Why I've done this should be immensely apparent - not only are knitted food items ridiculously useless, but they are pretty damn hideous, as well. For example:

This is a knitted plate of knitted scrambled eggs. Why, I couldn't tell you.

Or how about these:

They're knitted 'healthy sandwiches'. And I have no freaking clue what you're supposed to do with them. Keep them on a table in the living room and every once in a while humorously pick one up and pretend to eat it and go "Om num num" before you fall into a fit of pre-pubescent-esque giggling? Offer one to a friend after you tell them that you made lunch and then laugh heartily at your own heretofore unrecognized hilariousness? Just look at them in disdain while you wish they were real sandwiches? I wish I knew. I wish I knew.

Lastly, though, this was the photo that pushed me over the edge, and forced me to finally confront my fears:

What is it, you ask? It's a crocheted dollop. A freaking crocheted dollop with a crocheted minty sprig. A dollop of what, I have absolutely no clue. Is it a dollop of asanine? A dollop of bat-shit crazy? A dollop of you-need-to-get-a-job-immediately? Personally, I think it is a dollop of Mildly-Retarded. And I don't agree with its point of view.

Wild Jewel Crochet Love Goddess Rainbow Sparkle Jumper

Thank the fucking lord for ETSY. No, seriously. Without it, I never could have found my new favorite item ever, this Wild Jewel Crochet Love Goddess Rainbow Sparkle Jumper, which is, apparently, "Sewn with love, Sprinkled with magic and Created to Celebrate You".
Finally! Something made to celebrate ME! And, it's sprinkled with magic! Isn't it just my lucky day.


So thank you, ETSY, you've made my wildest dreams come to life! To terrifyingly vivid, lsd-induced, nauseating life. I'll take three!

Just look at how happy (and completely sane) this spectacular creation could make me appear:


And the best part is; it can all be mine for only $610! It's a steal, I tell you. A steal.

I Feel Like Some Talent, or at Least an Embroidery Machine, May Have Been Wasted Here

So it's been a helluva day today - not only did I discover that I've been featured in a movie (for reals - I'm in the middle of it somewhere), but I also became an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church (also for reals - now I can marry people, and legally!). And then, when it looked like my life couldn't get any more freaking awesome, I came across this for sale on Etsy for $4.50:


Yes, it is a roll of toilet paper with "I LIKE HoT Dogs" embroidered on the front. And it just made my day.

Another Devastating Sign Of The Times

It isn't that this plush owl isn't kind of cute, because it is... it's just that.... uhm... well, this was made by Martha Stewart. I swear to god I'm not kidding - I wouldn't joke about the Messiah of Crafting like that; she's far too terrifying an overlord. The picture even has "MarthaStewart.com" on the bottom right corner, which is quite a coincidence because that's exactly where I found that picture.

It's not just me, is it? I mean, that thing is shockingly badly put together, right? The whole thing is wonkiness personified, correct?

Either I'm starting to lose my mind or Martha's had to make some cut-backs in her company's "Let's Make Things Look Reasonably Attractive, Or At Least Reasonable" department.


And before I forget, I want to thank Quirkyloon so much for not only awarding me what is quite possibly the most indecipherable-freaking-excuse-for-an-award-ever (but of course I'll take it) at her hilarious site here, but also writing a tear-jerking piece about how fucking awesome I am at humorbloggers.com. It's a must-read for anyone who wants to spend time worshiping me and my supremely hilarious ways, which should be everyone, let's be honest. Feel free to print it out and mail it to everyone you know - I won't mind. Really.