Friday, April 1, 2011

How to: Be Captain America!

A few days ago I stumbled across the following link:

“How to: Make a Captain America Shield From a Satellite Dish.” *link at bottom of post

That is so…


I mean really…who doesn’t want a Captain America shield? My only assumption is dead people. But I bet if you asked them…even they’d want one.

However, I will admit my excitement was short lived as the sceptic inside me quickly began to ask questions.

“Is this just another one of those porn links, or worse…some kind of sick twisted joke?”

Sure, it’s one thing to innocently title a link, “How to: Make a Wonder Woman.” only to shock millions of Fanboys with not so innocent images, but seriously…don’t be promising people they can have Captain America’s shield only to pull the carpet out from under them. That’s plain wrong.

Anyways, with my eyes partially closed and the cursor arrow primed to close the window in a moments notice…I opened the link.


There he was.

Captain America…fully clothed.

Overcome with relief, I settled in to read how I could make a Captain America shield from a satellite dish.

The pictures looked cool and the process seemed surprisingly easy. In fact, the article described the plan as being something “just about anyone with enough time to complete this task could figure it out.”

Well, being the pure personification of “anyone with enough time”, I was clearly equipped for embarking on the most amazing craft project since making those felt covered cornucopia ornaments back in Grade 3. Mine were, as the kids say…epic!

Except back then “Mr. Crafty’s Bin of Craft Supplies” had everything I needed to accomplish the task. Not so today.

But, was I going to let a little obstacle like not having a satellite dish stop me from making a Captain America shield out of a satellite dish? Heck no.

And neither would Captain America. In fact, I asked myself, “What would Captain America do?”

Would Captain America quit? No.

Would Captain America throw a suicidal tantrum because his plan seemingly failed? Double No.

Well, I am not a quitter by any stretch of the imagination…unless you define “quitting” as, “stopping something before you finish because it seemed too hard”. And I’m certainly not one to emotionally snap at the slightest sign of disappointment.

So, with a steadfast determination to overcome this…quote…obstacle…unquote, I picked myself off the floor, wiped my tears, tore up the note and slipped the knife slowly back into the drawer.

It was there - while sweeping up the remains of a vase I had broken during my arm flailing rant at the gods for hating me - I realized...if I wanted a Captain America shield, I could have a Captain America shield!

Although the letter of the law stated, “satellite dish”…the spirit of the law stated, “be creative!” So, jacked up like the Energizer Bunny on Duracell, I ran over to my recycling bin.

A few hours later, I not only had my Captain America shield…

I WAS Captain America!

Have a good one,

Go To How to Make a Captain America Shield from a Satellite Dish

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  1. there are no words right now - will have to ponder :)

  2. Only thing I find strange is that the insemination glove is such bright pink...wouldn't that put off the cow? But I digress...great post!

  3. Thanks Val...and great digress. RR can you answer that?

  4. I with you all the way except for one thing.... You SERIOUSLY could have left the glove used to inseminate cows in the recycle bin, and gone for something a little less blechky. Like a tin-foil glove.

    PS Can you come to my house on October 31 and help me construct a costume from (sanitary) garbage?

  5. Am I to understand then, that you found rock hard abs in your recycling bin? What kind of crazy person would throw something like THAT away?

  6. Joanne...I have decided to translate your comment as "Oooh Boy! That's awesome!!!"

    Cat...The glove actually wasn't used in an insemination...but it's made for such a purpose. And, yes. I'd be glad to stop by on Halloween.

    Margaret...It's amazing what you can find. I found my quick wit under a pile of dried leaves back when I was 8.


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