My name is Bruce.

I feel like it's time you knew the story of Bruce Campbell. 

I'm sorry if you're hearing this for the 8 millionth time, I tell it to everyone, but it's a funny story. And I want to tell it.

This is the story of:

A true story.

Bruce Campbell came into my life when I was a junior in college. 

Of course, back then, we didn't realize he was who he was. We just thought he was a cat.

It was mid-October when my roommates first met Mr. Campbell. We were sitting in our college apartment in the middle of the night when we heard it: A soft scratching sound at the back door.

The scratching came from a stray cat looking for someplace warm to sleep. She was wet and covered in scratches and scars from who knows where.

When she meowed it sounded like she had never experienced joy in her life. 

We didn't have any way of taking care of her, but my roommates couldn't turn her away. They poured her a bowl of 2 percent milk and named her Tina.

That's her, on the left.

Now I know you're wondering "hey, what happened to Bruce Campbell? Whose this?"

Hold your horses. I'm getting there. 


I'm on record as never having been a fan of the name Tina. It didn't match the personality of a cat who bit and scratched if you pet her in the wrong place. She scratched up all the furniture out of spite (I'm sure of it) and would scream if you didn't let her outside at least once a night for her to kill small mammals and get in fights with other cats. 

But none of those reasons were why her name changed. 

That meow she gave? The one that sounded like she suffered from a broken heart and had never known a loving touch? She did it constantly, all day, every day. Without stopping.

And what started as heartbreaking soon became annoying.

It didn't take long for everyone in the house to call her by a different name: "Kitty," we would yell, "shut the f*ck up!

Kitty Shut the F*ck Up! lived with us for a few months and there were attempts to find a better name for the angry feline, but none of them had stuck.

The name Preggars, for example, only lasted about a day and she was back to KSTFU.

Come Christmas-time the campus housing authority had discovered that we had the cat in our apartment, a no-no according to our pet policy. Facing a several hundred dollar fine we had little choice but to get rid of her. 

With few places for her to go, I found her a home with my grandmother, who happily agreed to take her in, if she got the proper shots at the vet.

The vet visit changed KSTFU's life. And her gender. 

The vet learned very quickly that "No Name" (the vet secretary told me that she just didn't feel comfortable writing down KSTFU's full and correct title) was not a girl at all, but a male. A male with a small identification chip implanted in his elbow, which meant that the cat had a real name and an owner somewhere, who was looking for her/him.

The vet's hands were tied. She couldn't legally give the cat back to me since it didn't belong to me, and called the county animal shelter, who had placed the computer chip in her/him. 

The cat's registered name, as it turned out, was "Bruce Campbell."

As in:

 

You know, Bruce Campbell.

There was no address or phone number for the owner, so with a new name, a new gender and no owner out searching the streets for him, Bruce Campbell was sent to live with my grandmother. 

But like all of his names, "Bruce Campbell" didn't stick long.  My grandmother is an old fashioned woman. Cats, she believed, should never have the same names as people. Cats have fun names like "Mittens" or "Mr. Whiskers" and there was no way she would let a "Bruce" come anywhere near her home. 

She exclaimed --- rather matter-of-factly --- that Bruce was the worst possible name a cat could ever have, and announced that, instead, she would refer to him only by the name "You're such a Good Boy."

Of course his wildly inappropriate new title did nothing to change his personality. He still scratched and screamed and ate everything, but of all the names he's had, Good Boy is by far the longest lasting. He lived with her for years until my grandmother's declining health necessitated he come back to me. 

By then I was older. I'd graduated college. Gotten a job. I had a wife and a dog. 

I wasn't the same fool who would name my cat Kitty, Shut the F*ck Up! and think that was funny. 

Not that his old name didn't still apply. If anything he had gotten worse. 

Bruce meows, and screams, and barks at all hours of the day and night. He even meows while sleeping in this strange snore/meow that sounds not unlike a lawnmower.

Oh, his name is back to Bruce Campbell now, and I think that's how it's going to stay. It's by far the classiest, and it lets me write stories like this.

Don't tell my grandmother, though, she honestly believes that Bruce gets depressed when he's called anything other than "You're such a good boy" and that's what he is so destructive. 

Maybe there's something to be said for that. He's lived with me for a little more than a year now, and he still gets into everything. He attacks the blinds, falls behind dressers, jumps onto television sets, ruins cashmere sweaters, scratches up furniture, attacks the dog, eats 900 pounds of food a day and keeps us up all night long. Every night. 

Personally I think that maybe it's because he's a cat that's had more names (and genders) than you can count on one hand that's made him so grumpy, but that's just me. 

Or maybe we just haven't found the right name.

But I don't want to push it...

Max update

As promised. Max pictures have arrived.

Not sure what I'm talking about? Check the link, fool!

(For those not in the know, you might want to catch up)

So according to what I've been told from Katie, whose down there, Max popped out right in the nick of time. It looks like everyone is doing well and Max and Mom could be going home today (or tomorrow, so doctors can keep an eye on little Max).

Anyway, that's not what you came here for. I know that.

Fine. HERE'S your precious BABY PHOTOS

 

 

 

 

I believe this expression is known as the " 'Sup, balla?"

Grandma and Max.

You can probably expect more from Katie later on today or tonight, because let's face it:

Katie + Camera + small babies = about 8 million photos.


...You know what I just realized? This guy was BORN in 2011. He'll look back at the 2000s in the same way that I think of the 1980s and 1970s. You know. Dinosaur times.

My god I'm old.

---Geoff

Hey, want to see what a grainy baby looks like?

Because man, have I found one!

UPDATE: Katie came through with some photos. Check them out!

Calm down, Mom, it's OK. You're not a grandmother.

Everyone meet Max Dunnihoo, officially the newest member of the Rappinger clan. He's my... uh... nephew-in-law? I guess? I dunno. Whatever. He's here now, about 4 weeks early, but here none-the-less.


Katie and I were woken by a frantic phone call at about 6 a.m. this morning, saying to get our butts to Eugene! With Katie's mom on vacation in Texas and unable to get to her, we're the closest relatives in about 150 miles to get down there.

Unfortunately this thing called work (and a fairly hefty cold) kept me from going and infecting Max, but Katie's doing her sisterly duty and (blogger that she is) made sure to take her camera with her.

...Of course this photo wasn't TAKEN with that camera, it looks like it was taken with someone's phone, and I found it online somewhere, but I'm sure that she's going to have photos a-plenty to update later.

(Right, Katie? You turned off your phone and won't call me back so here's hoping you read this: 

TAKE PICS! THE PEOPLE DEMAND IT!)

With Katie gone, my camera gone, and nobody wanting to return my calls, I've done what any good resourceful Internet-crazy 20something would do, and taken to Facebook for photos and updates.

Here's what I found:

Max'n'Mom

Le Family Dunnihoo

Also, specifics. I know nothing about babies or baby related measurements, so I have no idea if these are good or not. I assume they're fine...

    Max Dunnihoo

• 6 lbs. 6 oz.

• 19 inches

• Full head of hair

• Mom and baby seem to be doing fine.

If and when I get more info I'll update, or Katie will, or somebody will.

DANG IT, KATIE, YOUR MAKING THIS LOOK LIKE SOME TWO BIT OPERATION!

---Geoff

4/52 Game Faces

For those of you who know us, you know we can be kinda ridiculous at times.....well, let me rephrase that, Geoff can be kinda ridiculous.

I was trying to take a nice picture and this is what I have to deal with.......

Yes, Geoff is wearing a hockey jersey with the Canadian flag on it. TRAITOR.

Granted, this isn't my favorite photo of myself since I was trying to take the picture and get us both in frame, so I have kinda a weird expression, but it was just too good not to post. haha :D

We were given tickets to the Winterhawks game from Geoff's aunt Judi for Christmas and had a blast.

(Also, before I forget, THANKS JUDI!)

Geoff has a bit of a head cold (if you ask him he's dying) but we couldn't turn down the game. We had awesome seats --- practically right on the ice --- the Hawks won in overtime, and we got to enjoy getting out of the house. Yes, getting out of the house is a big thing for us. Don't make a big thing out of it.

Yes, this is very blurry. Geoff sucks.

Who knows what next week will bring. I'm co-hosting my sister Lori's baby shower so I'm sure there will be lots of photos from that. It will be pretty legendary (make sure you say "lengendary" like this)

Oh, and don't be disappointed when Geoff lies to you and say's we'll do a picture before the weekend because we all know that won't likely happen. Especially since Geoff and I barely see each other during the week, and when I do see him he's asleep.

What can I say, we keep the flame alive.

Lolo-ng Gone

For those not "hip" to Portland area news, here's a newsflash. It's been raining.

Yes, I realize for a state whose reputation for horrible weather rivals that of Merry Old England, this isn't of much note but here's the thing: It's been raining a LOT.

On Mt. Hood it's rained so much that it's actually driven people out of their homes.

I grew up safely in Suburbia, but Katie grew up near Mt. Hood. It's a wild place, filled with towns with silly names like ZigZag, and Rhododendron. It's the type of place where men grow beards for warmth and kill deer as much for sport as sustenance.

Katie lived in the city of Sandy, where I imagine she spent her days hacking through underbrush and killing small town sheriffs who foolishly drew first blood.

Which, in my mind looked something like this:

"Murdock... I'm coming to get you!"

But even the rugged mountain man spirit of Hood's roughest hombres hasn't been able to compete with mother nature over the past few weeks.

With heavy rains and melting snow, the Sandy River has grown to pretty intense proportions.

The river destroyed one of the few roads in the area, Lolo Pass Road, and the 250 people that live in the area now have to walk miles to get to their cars, those that were able to get their cars out of there before the flooding came. It's pretty intense, and makes for some incredible images.

This video isn't ours, but we found it online here.

Enjoy.

(FULL SCREEN IT, you won't be sorry)

Sandy River Flood from alexandra erickson on Vimeo.

It's a crazy amount of destruction. People who live on the road are focred to either relocate or walk miles from their home to the nearest road. According to some officials with the county it could be several MONTHS before the road is back to a workable condition that people are actually about to... you know... drive home.

Luckily, we know someone who's been trained to ignore pain, ignore weather. To live off the land...

"In town, you're the law. Out here, it's me."

3/52 Sleepy Time Station

Week Three: CHECK.

This photo looks like it's easy to shoot. And in a way it is. But while shooting it last night Katie tried to hit the camera's delay button without getting up.

My camera has a delay setting so she could take a photo then run back and get in position before the photo was snapped.

Unfortunately, Katie didn't want to get up, so instead she stretched as far as she could to find the delay button.

Is it this one?

Nope.

How about THIS one?

Nope.

Wait, I've found it. How about this one...

Don't think so.

She did find it eventually.

 

Goodnight.

NEXT WEEK WE'LL DO A PHOTO BEFORE THE WEEKEND! I SWEAR IT!

PORTLANDIA: a review

Next week the Independent Film Channel will air the first episode of "Portlandia" a sketch comedy show all about Portland's alternative lifestyle. 

And Geoff's got the first episode for you.

Impatient types should skip down past all this verbiage. Normal people should just keep reading.

For those not familiar with the series, it's a sketch comedy show starring Saturday Night Live's Fred Armisen, and Portland native and singer guitarist Carrie Brownstein.

Armisen and Brownstein play almost all of the characters in Portlandia, switching off between male and female characters between skits. Each skit focuses on a different silly aspect of Portland's zany über-liberal environmentaly friendly alternative hipster lifestyle.

Episode one, "Farm" has Brownstein and Armisen as the owners of a feminist bookstore, finding out exactly how fresh the chicken at their local restaurant is and going crazy from constantly checking e-mail, texting and updating their Netflix queues.

Portlandia is clearly not a show for Portlanders. It's an exaggerated take on what makes Portland so "weird" in the eyes of other cities, but to Portlanders it seems kinda... lame.

Looks like an average trip to the waterfront to me...

For me and the other Portlanders I've talked to the show just doesn't seem that original. Maybe it's because I've grown up here and lived my entire life here and grown up with us making fun of ourselves that I don't see the same spark of originality that other people do.

"Portland is a place that young people go to retire," Arisen says at one point of the show, and I swear I've seen that bumper sticker someplace in Portland before. Years ago.

Granted, my viewing of the show is a bit skewed, I think, because I've lived here all my life. If you've visited Portland on vacation or have friends or family here, then you might find one or two of the jokes funny, (and, to be fair, I did chuckle once at the line "Nance, you're being a real bitch right now") but mostly it feels like an SNL sketch that goes on for waaaay too long.

Yeah, I get it. We're weird. Ha ha.

No. Really. I get it.

Stop.

Whatever guys, I'm out of here.

Armisen himself has said that the show isn't meant to poke fun at the city. "We don't even know if it's necessarily comedy," he told The Oregonian in September.

If that's the case, then they hit it square on the head.

All in all, give Portlandia a shot by watching episode 1, but personally I won't be watching any more than that.

Speaking of which, I have Episode one here for you watch. Follow on down past the Morrison Bridge...

Here you be. Episode one: Farm.

Portlandia airs on IFC Jan. 21.

---GEOFF

2/52 Watching "Couch potatoes"

Week two of the 52 Weeks Project. 

No big holidays

No crazy adventures.

Just lounging at home together --- which we seldom get to do because of conflicting work schedules.

Sometimes it's nice to just lay on the couch, watch some HBO and drive Katie's dog crazy. 

Random discovery of the day

I love the Internet. And today confirmed why.

As an American 20-something I spend a fair amount of time on the Internet, looking for stupid things to link to and blog about.

And now I've found it. The Holy Grail. My search is over.

The single greatest thing in the history of the Internet. And I found it on Facebook

Yes. You are reading that right. It's a British novel from the 1950s titled The Human Bat v. The Robot Gangster.

And while this is certainly a science-fiction thriller for readers of all ages, it's also the single greatest thing you'll ever find on the Internet, ever.

You want to know why?

Reason No. 1: The Human Bat. 
You can't fault the guy for is theatricality. The Human Bat seems to be a normal dude with a Santa red flying suit a small electrical substation attached to his head. What does it do? Haven't got a clue, but you know what? They're awesome

Batman can't even fly, but The Human Bat? This dude's rocking the power of flight and (apparently) electricity. Or sonar. Cellphone tower?

Reason No. 2: The Robot Gangster. 

He's not just a robot, but a robot that's into organized crime. There are two things in this world I was always taught never to mess with: robots and gangsters. One half Tony Soprano the other half cycloptic antenna'd robot with spikes for a midsection and teeth that can grind rival racketeers into a fine powder.




Reason No. 3: The peaceful meadow. 
Who would have thought that the ultimate showdown of Earths mightiest marvels would NOT take place on a volcano, or in New York during a downpour  but on a chilly Autumn morning in the English countryside.

But that's not all. Here's the big M. Night Shyamalan twist ending:

Ultimate Reason No. 4: The v.
Contrary to what you might have first thought, this is not a story about two superhuman beings punching the living daylights out of each other. What makes this even better is that it's actually a Dick Wolf legal drama in disguise.


When fighters duke it out you write it out as Tyson vs. Holyfield or Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla, but Roe v. Wade? That's a legal case citation.

Yes, you read that right. The Human Bat is suing The Robot Gangster for damages do to actions taken by The Robot Gangsters' (alleged) criminal operation.

At least, I assume. There's not much to go one here, but I think it's safe to assume that The Robot Gangster is in court for something related to organized crime. But that's just a guess.

Of course, Gangster could just be his surname, in which case my whole profile of his character needs to be rethought.

I'll need to tear the couch apart and see if I can find .35 cents to find out what happens!

Maybe it's a leaf-belt?

Sidenote: Before the hockey game we stopped at 5 Guys for a quick bite to eat. The restaurant features a bulletin board for children to draw pictures or messages.

 


 

See it yet?

Most of the drawings say something to the extent of "5 guys rules" or "I heart 5 Guys" but one plucky artist decided to show his love for delicious burgers in a different way...

Tell me there's another way to interpret this. Tell me that isn't a drawing of a man spreading open his cheeks with Stretch Armstrong arms and being all too pleased with himself about it.

Anybody?

Anybody at all?



---GEOFF

Hello, 2011

Well, 2011 may only have one day on the books but it's already eventful. New Years 2011 is, by far, one of the most memorable starts to the year in recent memory. And it happened like this:

Every year the Portland Winterhawks hockey team holds a New Years Eve game to ring in the new year. Katie and I have gone for the last couple of years. They're fun, the game is usually good and it gets us out of the house without going to a lame party or drinking ourselves stupid.

(Note to all of my friends: I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, your parties aren't lame. Really).

This year's game was against the Seattle Thunderbirds, a bitter rival, and while there was plenty of the violence that you'd expect at a hockey game:

Exhibit A:

There was also plenty of the violence that you didn't.

The refs in the game were (admittedly) not very good, and called penalty after penalty against Portland. I’ll save you all the technical mumbo-jumbo for all you non-hockeyists out there, but needless to say when the sixth penalty was called against Portland (with NONE against Seattle) the crowd was starting to get a bit upset, and when game ending whistle blew fans were so upset that they started pelting Seattle’s goaltender with garbage.

Yeah. Half-drunk sodas, nacho baskets, beer... it was all thrown at the players at the end of the game, and when one of Seattle’s players was invited back out onto the ice for a special award he refused to come out.

Hockey fans are known for being a bit... extreme, but I’ve never known people to be so upset that they pelted players with garbage.

The fans anger even managed to make it onto the Internet with the official Winterhawks blog and The Oregonian commenting on it.

Then there was the MAX ride home, where a group of pissed off drunk 15-year-old girls were in the middle of a screaming match with a group of transvestites on their way downtown. It was pretty ugly, and disgusting, and lasted most of the way through Portland.

I’m not one to shove my opinions down people’s throat, but I think we can all agree that it’s wrong to scream at complete strangers just because you disagree with them. They aren’t hurting you. It doesn’t affect you. Just let them wear their fishnet stockings. Shut up.

Anyway that brought a pretty substantial downer feeling to the evening and much of the MAX ride was taken in silence until we left Portland city limits.

Nothing like a little homophobic bigotry to bring down an evening

We ended up counting down the new year in a parking lot just off the MAX in Beaverton. It was a memorable start to 2011 to say the least.


Here’s hoping that 2011 is a bit less... aggressive, but just as memorable.





---Geoff

1/52 Happy New Year!

So, as I wrote the other day, the K-Dizzle and I are working on a new project, a photo-a-week test to document the next 52 weeks (and 1 day) until 2012.

Having just finished my 365 project a few months ago, I expect this to be significantly less stressful, but just as fun and even more challenging.

And, as usual, after taking 20+ photos last night, the first one is by far the best.

(also, like I said, any suggestions for photos or tips and tricks on how to take better ones, let us know)


Okay, enough stalling. Let's do this.

I'm not crazy about this photo, but this week only had 1 day in it. So sue us.

It was a VERY memorable New Years Eve in Portland with a Winterhawks hockey game, then an unforgettable MAX ride home with crossdressers and drunk 14-year-old rednecks, followed by counting down the new year in an empty parking lot.


All of that requires it's own post, since it involves pics, several paragraphs of rambling and even a couple of videos. I'll see if I can get those posted tonight, but we're taking a last-minute drive down to Eugene for the rest of the weekend, so we'll see if I can steal some Internet on the way, or later tonight...

Also, here's some other photos that could have been our Day 1.

The more I look at this, the more this becomes my favorite of the three. But rules are rules and we both agreed on the other photo. I'll just have to deal.