Category Archives: finger puppet therapy

On Both Your Houses

We all know how I feel about finger puppets.

Of course, who doesn’t like finger puppets?  They’re festive, accessible, portable, and easy to find.  With little to no effort, one can find (and I have) plastic pigs, Jesus, Frida Kahlo, the naked king from “the Emperor’s New Clothes”, Lao Tzu, and either Romeo or a Pirate, depending on how you look at him.

Today, my package from arrived with my brand new Passover Ten Plagues Finger Puppet Set.

Words cannot express the many, many things I feel about this.

Why, yes, that is me, smugly showing off my dead baby finger puppet.

There are, of course, some artistic choices that puzzle me.

The hair on the boils – ok.  I can see that.  But hail appears to have a tail.  And his head is on fire, which seems unlikely, since he’s made of water.

And why is the louse masturbating?  Isn’t he too busy for that, what with being a plague and all?

These are excellent gifts for children, all around.  Perhaps my nephew needs a set.



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Baked Goods Need Love Too

My favorite Waffle made a special birthday request: a birthday finger puppet massacre featuring llamas, the rock with a hole, and Virginia Woolf.

Because I was away visiting my family, celebrating the rape and pillage of the land, it’s a late birthday massacre.  Sorry about that.

Gina Proudly Presents:

Llama Sllaughter


Murderous Rock-with-a-Hole

Targeted Llamas

Tragically Innocent Kangaroo Passerby


Virginia Woolf, weeping upon the neck of Van Gough

(And before you ask, ALL finger puppets bleed scribbled, marker-like blood.  Everyone knows that.)

Close ups:

Happy Birthday.

May your week be otherwise carnage free.



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Twitter Pressure

Apparently, one needs a Twitter account in order to read another’s Twitter account, so I now have a Twitter account so that I could find out why I was suddenly getting 8 million links from Twitter.  There is no point following me there.  Facebook already has me so obsessed with knowing what people are up to all the time ALL THE TIME that anything updated more frequently will keep me chained in my apartment, clicking refresh, until I waste away and die.

Of course, being that it’s a solid wall of heat outside, this doesn’t sound terribly unappealing.

Despite making it clear that the Caveman and His Cows is infinitely superior, Scott and I, under MUCH INTERNET DURESS, present ‘Virginia: a Tragic Tale’, also called ‘Siamese Virgina Woolf Twins Visit the Wizard Who Summons a Knight to Separate Them With His Mighty Sword Whilst an Austrian Climbs the Theater’.

Virginias in desperation

Close up – Virginias await:


Close up – Scaling Austrian:


If it was better in your head, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Edit: Apparently, one does not need a Twitter account oneself to read other Twitter accounts, it is only idiots like me who see the big green SIGN IN NOW buttons and panic, not knowing how else to navigate.  Regardless, I have a Twitter and three followers, all three of whom will be bored to tears.

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Scott Visits: Part Two, Fete Entry

You will, of course, recall Scott’s mom’s poopcake that I entered in the Belgian Waffle Internet Village Fete.  Despite being roundly scolded for subcontracting, I stand by said poopcake.

Scott himself, on being encouraged to enter, decided against construction (passing completely over my recently unpacked drawer full of office supplies) and instead dove straight into the finger puppets, which I admit are both plentiful and tempting.

His ensuing tableau is titled “Caveman Clubs Cows to Death Whilst Frida Looks On.”


Although subsequent tableaux “Flying Contest” and “Siamese Virgina Woolf Twins Visit the Wizard” were also both good, we feel a particular fondness for the cows.

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