Little house not on the prairie…

Blog Guy, I’m an elf who is looking for a very small place to live during the off-season, when I’m not with Santa. Any ideas?

Sure. Turns out there is a teeny-weeny place for sale that might be just what you need. Our small house specialist, five-foot-tall Claire Sibonney, checked it out and pronounced it “adorable.”

It has a kitchen – located sort of in a hallway – and a bedroom that is seven feet wide, where you sleep on a Murphy bed, which by coincidence is also seven feet wide. Claire says the “impossibly narrow” bathroom has a door that looks as though it was cut in half.

Plus, if you’re worried about furnishing it, follow this slideshow to an array of other small stuff suitable for tiny house use, and click here for Claire’s full report:

“I’m Santa! HO HO hold your fire!”

And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle, But Santa got off a few shots with his pistol?

In the violent slums of Rio de Janeiro, most of the time helicopters only bring one thing: police. So, when a chopper flew over the Vila Joao neighborhood on Sunday, trying to deliver Santa Claus to a children’s party, local drug traffickers gave it their traditional welcome – they opened fire on it.

You can’t shoot Santa, of course, and the helicopter took two rounds in the fuselage and returned to base. But I think I know some drug goons who should expect nothing but coal this Christmas morning. Here is the story, and if you want more tales from the darker side of Christmas, visit Too jolly, Miss Molly! A pinnacle of cynical!

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, “I’ll be back with grenades, if you thugs want a fight!”

They’ve chosen to get frozen…

Okay, here’s what really confuses me. When we see seasonally inappropriate behavior in the summer – folks wearing six layers of coats and sweaters in August, and so on – we presume they are homeless or troubled and we avoid eye contact and cross the street to avoid them.

But come winter, when countless masochistic doofuses start putting on Speedos – or less – and jumping into every icy body of water on Earth, we act as if they are doing something interesting and cute and, worst of all, newsworthy.

Here it comes again. We are about to be blitzed by stories and photos and video clips of people swimming until they’re blue in the face, and the onslaught will continue until spring. Well, you can gawk if you want to, but this is the last bit of attention these people will get in my blog. Starting tomorrow, no more eye contact. Watch Helen Long’s video report:

Honey, I shrunk the nutcracker…

“Floyd, you down in that basement again? Still workin’ on that itty-bitty nutcracker? It’s been six months! Have you lost your mind, Floyd? Do you SEE any tiny nuts that need cracking?

“That thing wouldn’t open a frickin’ pistachio, Floyd! Plus, you can barely see down here. Let me strike this match so you can… Oops! Sorry, Floyd. Maybe you can start another one…”

As Agnes berates Floyd, let’s move on to ballet. Here’s a scene from the most massive version of “The Nutcracker“ ever staged, presented this holiday season at the…. What? Oh. I’ve just been told this is actually Bolivia’s presidential honor guard, which explains why there’s so little Tchaikovsky playing. Maybe you should click here, instead. We now return to Agnes and Floyd.

Slideshow on itty-bitty things:

Relax, I just need your measurements!

Quick question: this newsphoto shows…

The correct answer is the last one. For you newcomers, a scene with this much chaos and violence usually involves lawmakers in Bolivia or Taipei or someplace, where now and then the fists start flying as part of the deliberation process. If you watch the whole video you’ll see one dude carried out on a stretcher. Check it out:

More stories from the Oddly Enough Blog

Lawmakers of the ruling United New Democratic Party struggle with lawmakers of the main opposition Grand National Party occupying the National Assembly speaker’s podium at the National Assembly’s main chamber in Seoul December 14, 2007. REUTERS/Han Jae-Ho

Too jolly, Miss Molly! A pinnacle of cynical!

Merry Christmas, Blog Guy! My family has several holiday stories and poems we read every year,  just to help get us in the mood. Do you have something like that? Maybe you could share them with us!

No, I’m kind of the opposite. I’m already in the mood, so I need seasonal tales that bring me back down to Earth.  I have a fine collection of downer Christmas items,  some of them going back as far as oh, Christmas, 2006!

Today, I’m starting a new tradition: “Yule Be Sorry – Oddly Enough Christmas stuff for when you’re feeling too darned jolly!” If anybody wants to turn these into a cute little illustrated Christmas book or maybe a calendar, I’m sure we can work something out…

Put your bags in the Spice Rack, girls

There’s an odd new trend, naming airplanes after women. I don’t mean aviation pioneers like Amelia Earhart. I mean like the Victoria’s Secret models. The latest example is this Spice Girls thing, where they paint up the fuselage, invite cameramen, and the next thing you know we’re issuing 17 still photos, a slideshow and a video clip. I guess that sounds fair.

The thing is, nobody seems to have time to be clever anymore. Spice One isn’t a very imaginative name. If this trend had begun back when sex goddess Jayne Mansfield was alive, hers could have been called Plane Jayne. And if Mother Teresa had her own airliner, it could have been Nun One. Now that’s fun!

Oh well, a few more years and a few more wrinkles, and they’ll be able to call this one “Old Spice.”

Spice Girls unveil a Boeing 747 plane named “Spice One” at Los Angeles international airport on December 12, 2007. REUTERS photos by Mario Anzuoni

Which witchdoctor should you visit?

Now and then we test the abilities of marketing people to promote tough products, like for instance tourism on Rat Island, or little-bitty roses. Today’s assignment is to work on radio ads for witchdoctors, during that crucial morning drive time, when…

Yes, witchdoctors. In Uganda, where these are pretty common, our reporter Tim Cocks says officials are concerned at the number of radio ads pushing witchdoctors and their charms and potions. It’s easy to find someone like Mama Fina, who claims she can help you out with headaches, malaria, pregnancy problems, and just plain bad luck. So hurry, the airwaves may not be available for long, and we need a catchy jingle.

“We don’t want to scare ya, but you’ve got malaria, and we have a notion that you need our potion… “

Okay, that’s good enough. Call in the jingle singers and book the spots. Here is Tim’s story:

Honk if you believe in gravity…

Blog Guy, you recently gave some career tips called Free advice from the Blog of Death. You said we should avoid jobs with the phrase “of death” in the title.

Can you say more about what might go wrong? Some of these jobs look pretty sweet.

Okay, watch this video report about the “Well of Death.” Here are some things to worry about in this line of work:

More stories from the Oddly Enough Blog

Horse heads on the catwalks?

I don’t know for sure what this thing is. It looks like a bunch of blond braided hair, topped off with an anvil or a small horse head, and I gather these things are being hurled from rafters onto unsuspecting fashion models these days.

Obviously, safety precautions at this fashion show were inadequate. You can see the special horse head anvil protective netting snagged the thing but didn’t stop it, so now this poor women will have to undergo a painful horse head anvilectomy to remove it.

Meanwhile, I’m continuing my research into this alarming trend and will report back to you. I Googled fashion and anvil and small horse head and came up with a Utah educational television blurb about some blacksmith. This could take awhile.

More stories from the Oddly Enough Blog