Mahna Mahna

OK, so my brother sent me this righteous Cake CD with the song Mahna Mahna on it. This is one of those things that floats through my head periodically that has the quality of a really weird dream, so it was comforting to see it acknowledged by an outside entity. I believe I've even googled it before, but probably with the wrong spelling. With the right spelling, you can find this on Wikipedia:

"Mahna Mahna", originally titled "Mah-Na Mah-Na," was written by Italian composer Piero Umiliani for an Italian documentary about life in Sweden, titled Svezia, Inferno e Paradiso (Sweden, Heaven and Hell). It is a nonsense song that achieved widespread fame when the Muppets performed it.

Which might explain why one of the YouTube videos of the performance has Swedish subtitles? Wheels within wheels. Here's a better version:



OMG, that still makes me laugh. The pink things are called Snowths! And you get the two old guys in the balcony at the end! I love The Muppet Show So. Much.

It turned into a running gag on the show, every time Kermit said "phenomena," which led to this:



So. Freaking. Good. Is The Muppet Show our generations' vaudeville? Discuss.

Blinded by Rainbows

I started reading a memoir of someone with Asperger's syndrome, so now, of course, I think I have it. But, you know, diagnoses (even spurious ones, made by aspiring hypochondriacs) are not really comforting. It can explain the social awkwardness and trouble concentrating, but it doesn't really help me live in my body more effectively.

God. This is like the blogging equivalent of an uncomprehending stare. You should just go read Night Editor. She is sharing real information, dammit. She is part of the reason that St. Paul is shooting to the top of the literacy charts, people. She? Is part of the solution.

I? am having trouble making sense of it all.

Science Lurve

OMG you guys. I have to start watching Wired Science—they employ Chris Hardwick, who I have lurved ever since I first saw a demented little dating show called Shipmates. I was totally addicted! It was basically a blind date on a three-day cruise, which whatever. But Chris Hardwick was the very funny host, and his least word was a dream.

See for yourself. Here he is with the also funny Rainn Wilson:



Call me Chris!

Spiritually Bored

Maria objects to meaningless work:

Do You Neti?

I bought myself a Neti pot yesterday:

I've used one before, but never took to the practice exactly. The practice being pouring warm salt water up your nasal passages. The "nasal wash" is a "time-honored practice in the Orient" for treating allergies, colds, and sinus problems, according to my Neti pot instructions.

And indeed, Hybrid-Fat-N-Sassy was shilling for it (she of the Neti-industrial complex) as I complained about my post nasal drip and endless coughing. This is what a Neti user looks like, if they are beautifully lit and apparently not at all unwell:

The part that's missing is the water coming out of her other nostril. Awesome!

It is not a pleasant sensation, but it's doable and the result is that you get to stop breathing exclusively through your mouth for a while. Not bad.

D & A

Dude! Amy Sedaris has a part in a Dolly Parton video! Dig it:

Oh, the Humanity

Despite carrying my camera around in my purse all weekend, I never captured a photo of my visitors—Dad and my brother Paul in town for Thanksgiving. But despite the lack of evidence, they were here. We ate lovely meals and went to a play. We talked about all sorts of things. Paul laid this factoid on me: a large amount of the veal served in New York City is actually the tender interior portion of a fresh ham. Is your mind blown?! I attempted to wow them with my knowledge of local commercial real estate trends. We lamented the rising price of farm land in S.D.

But human nature was rather in evidence as I misjudged the time we needed to eat before the Friday-night play. We had to rush our entree and speed to the theater, missing the first few minutes of the performance. Then, late in the play, I was overtaken by a coughing fit that seemed to last a half an hour, though it was only a few minutes. Sigh.

Because I'm me, these mishaps loom over the weekend in my head. I wish I could just relax and stop being appalled by the fact that I can't actually control everything.

I'll see them again at Christmas, which will be lovely. I'm going to ask Santa if he can't do something about my crippling neuroses. That would be awesome.

Is It Me You're Looking For?

Wow, what inspired that Lionel Richie moment, do you suppose? Must be the sinus infection--I'm feeling perfectly awful.

However, Friday night was lovely with Night Editor. We went to First Ave. to see Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings after having dinner at Palomino. The music was brilliant, and the company was divine.

Things are otherwise moving along at a reasonable pace. I'm shopping for a light therapy box to relieve the dark night. Any recommendations you have are welcome. Also, my dad and brother Paul are coming up for Thanksgiving, which I'm very excited about. We've got tickets for a play and reservations for a couple of promising dinners.

In other news, I have booked my February trip. Check it out. I've also added to my reading list. But now I have to go force fluids and whimper about my sore throat. How are all of you?

Old Soul

Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings are performing at First Ave. on November 16. Have you seen these cats?:



Funky as hay-ell. Advance tickets are only $12. Who's going with me?

Got another 3 minutes? Check out this deliciousness:



That could be you! But is it old excerpts of Soul Train, as it appears, or did they just film it to look vintage?!

More Gaines!

Jimmy Gaines, formerly of Pizza Man blog fame, is now doing "Dude Weather" for Steve Perry's new Daily Mole blog. Check it out:



Gaines!

Smilla's Sense of the Familiar

I just added Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Hoeg to my "Books Read in 2007" list. I've always wondered if any Scandanavians suffer from the dark and cold. We're made to feel that they take in their somewhat harsh surroundings with equanimity, or at least stoicism. This book's heroine, however, both suffers from depression and has a passion for snow and ice. Reading about her cheered me considerably.

And Another!

A Halloween special from Maria:



Righteous!

And Then Some

I am disturbed by the ubiquity of the word "awesome." On one level, it's use is characterized for me by Ty Pennington, the very embarrassing host of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition." He's someone who uses it as his go-to compliment, and his overuse of it tends to makes me suspect his overly sincere sincerity.

But some of my favorite writers use it all the time, and I'm fine with that. It comes out of my own mouth regularly. Sometimes people use it ironically and sometimes it just an approving exclamation. It's just weird that super square button-down types, uber hipsters, and everyone in between have all embraced it to such a degree. The word has the same feeling to me now as "like" or "you know" in some people's conversation -- just a placeholder or a reflex.

How did this happen?

I've been trying to substitute some synonyms, just to mix things up. I like "Righteous!" Hybrid-Fat-n-Sassy had another good suggestion that I can't remember now. Remind me, lady!

P.S. In my fantasy world, all uses of "awesome" would be replaced by "OMG!!! Ponies!1! Who's with me?!

Style vs. Substance

Style is winning by a landslide.

I've been all ambivalent about my job and having a few moments of despair about my role and meaning and what-the-hell-is-the-point-of-it-all. Is it necessary that I just be a tool of the consumerist culture, working to earn so I can buy, working to create product that others can buy, defined by my work and the crap I own?

As usual the ladies at Jezebel have captured my feelings. They were inspired by a career columnist at Yahoo who suggested that if we worked less at, you know, work and more on the way we look, we would create a successful brand for ourselves and be, you know, successful. A Jezebel responds:

Before I took this job I was unemployed and trying to write a book about this phenomenon tentatively titled The Nothing-Based Economy. Because the reason nothing besides image, perception and toned obliques matters anymore is that this country has outsourced and/or automated and/or just totally given up on just about every other skill/function working people are supposed to exhibit beyond the careful cultivation of "brand," which is to say the creation of demand, for oneself and whatever it is one is trying to sell, which is to say nothing. Anyway, I worked pretty hard on it though I spent a fair amount of time moping around and downloading iTunes from the early nineties as well, but it was all pretty much an exercise in futility because, duh, it's not like I had a brand or anything.

Preach it, sister.

Respect the Meat

If you missed it, the Darnell video from last night's My Name is Earl is truly awesome:



Edit: Oops, NBC nixed the YouTube version, prolly. Click here for the non-copyright-violating clip.

Lots of Bits

Maria's kinda R rated this time:

He's Mine, I Tell You!

The guy I'm totally cheating on Jon Stewart with guest wrote Maureen Dowd's column:

I’d like to thank Maureen Dowd for permitting/begging me to write her column today. As I type this, she’s watching from an overstuffed divan, petting her prize Abyssinian and sipping a Dirty Cosmotinijito. Which reminds me: Before I get started, I have to take care of one other bit of business:

Bad things are happening in countries you shouldn’t have to think about. It’s all George Bush’s fault, the vice president is Satan, and God is gay.

There. Now I’ve written Frank Rich’s column too.

I lurve him so much!

Rat-a-tat-tat

What do you post about when your life is boring? Why food, of course! Tonight I made Ratatouille Tian, which is a type of gratin -- a hot dish with a crispy top. (I don't know if that's the official definition, but it's mine.)

Assembly is kinda pretty. Colorful vegetables!

First, there is roasted diced eggplant:

Then a saute of onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, and herbs de Provence:

Into a pan with lots of torn, fresh basil and topped with sliced tomatoes and zucchini:

And finally, bread crumbs, Parmesan, and olive oil. And when it's baked, the top, she is crispy:

I'll let you know how it tastes.

Baby Got Bitumen?

Hands down, the dorkiest business name I've heard all day: Sir Lines-A-Lot. It is a " full service parking lot line striping and pavement marking company." Run by hip-hop fans, apparently.

Today

... is my mom's birthday. She would have been 81. Sometimes, when I see a white-haired lady with a smiling, gentle face, I'm sad all over again that I didn't get to see her that way.

Here she is on her wedding day, with her lovely smile and skinny groom.

Look Out for the Jackals!

OMG, you guys! Go see Mully's new stuff.



Christmas is com-ing (sing song voice).

Hateful Crap

I knew there was a reason I don't see movies anymore:

Warner Bros president of production Jeff Robinov has made a new decree that "We are no longer doing movies with women in the lead". This Neanderthal thinking comes after both Jodie Foster's The Brave One ... and Nicole Kidman's The Invasion (as if three different directors didn't have something to do with the awfulness of the gross receipts) under-performed at the box office recently.

Meanwhile, they misspelled Foster's name on the movie posters. Hollywood is awesome!

Let's Talk About Me(me)

Meme! Which I stole from Yummy Turtle. These are the top 106 books most often marked as "unread" by LibraryThing's users. Bold what you have read, italicise what you started but couldn't finish, make it red if you couldn't stand it, and star those you want to read. Make it green if you've never heard of it.

The ones with no special mark I am mostly indifferent to, or perhaps that's implied.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell* (It IS recommended by 50 Books.)
Anna Karenina*
Crime and Punishment*
Catch-22*
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Wuthering Heights
The Silmarillion
Life of Pi
The Name of the Rose
Don Quixote
Moby Dick*
Ulysses (Yeah, I don't see myself ever getting through this in any meaningful way. I want story, J.J., not a damn literary mission. God.)
Madame Bovary
The Odyssey (I own a copy but we'll see if it gets read. It's not really calling my name...)
Pride and Prejudice
Jane Eyre
The Tale of Two Cities*
The Brothers Karamazov*
Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies (It seems like nonfiction writing takes some serious hubris. I mean what about that subhead? Overambitious much? I prefer to let them sit for a few decades to see how well they age, before I expend any effort on them.)
War and Peace*
Vanity Fair
The Time Traveler's Wife* (A present from my sister-in-law. Thanks M.!)
The Iliad (See: The Odyssey)
Emma
The Blind Assassin
The Kite Runner* (At some point, I will pick up one of the frillion copies of this book for $.25 at a garage sale.)
Mrs. Dalloway
Great Expectations (A victim of high-schoool indifference, I will probably revisit. I'm all about the Dickens these days.)
American Gods
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Atlas Shrugged (She. Is. DeRANGED.)
Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books
Memoirs of a Geisha
Middlesex
Quicksilver
Wicked : The Life and times of the Wicked Witch of the West
The Canterbury Tales
The Historian
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Love in the Time of Cholera
Brave New World
The Fountainhead (I read a couple Ayn Rand, and I now actively campaign against her ridiculousness. Come join me!)
Foucault's Pendulum
Middlemarch
Frankenstein*
The Count of Monte Cristo*
Dracula*
A Clockwork Orange*
Anansi Boys
The Once and Future King
The Grapes of Wrath
The Poisonwood Bible
1984 (I'm pretty sure I've read this, but I may have it mixed up with Brave New World or Farenheit 9whatever. I better revisit.)
Angels & Demons (Wait, is this by the Da Vinci Code guy? If so, I will not be reading it. He made a fool of me once with his shite.)
The Inferno* (Maybe I'll read it. You know what they say about the road to hell. Hey-O!)
The Satanic Verses*
Sense and Sensibility
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Mansfield Park
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
To the Lighthouse
Tess of the D'Urbervilles*
Oliver Twist*
Gulliver's Travels
Les Misérables
The Corrections (I just finished this today. Seriously. I wouldn't recommend it -- Franzen is a cynical bastard and not in a good way.)
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (I tried this a few months ago and it didn't hook me, but I'll probably try again.)
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (Maybe I'll read this. Any recommendations? Should I bother?)
Dune
The Prince*
The Sound and the Fury
Angela's Ashes
The God of Small Things
A People's History of the United States : 1492-present (This is totally the medicine I think I should take but don't. I've even given it as a gift, fer crying out loud!)
Cryptonomicon
Neverwhere
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Short History of Nearly Everything (I actually listened to this audio book on a road trip. Awesome!)
Dubliners
The Unbearable Lightness of Being (God. It was interminable)
Beloved
Slaughterhouse-Five
The Scarlet Letter
Eats, Shoots & Leaves
The Mists of Avalon
Oryx and Crake
Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed
Cloud Atlas
The Confusion
Lolita
Persuasion
Northanger Abbey
The Catcher in the Rye
On the Road (I agree with Capote on this one -- not writing, just typing)
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Freakonomics: A Rogue Economist Explores the Hidden Side of Everything*
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
The Aeneid
Watership Down (I know this is about rabbits. I'm intrigued and also afraid.)
Gravity's Rainbow
The Hobbit
In Cold Blood*
White Teeth*
Treasure Island
David Copperfield
The Three Musketeers

Do your own list and let's compare. Is there anything here that you're appalled (Appalled!) I haven't read? I'm easily swayed. Seriously.

"A Self-Hurt Book"

Jon Stewart questions Chris Matthews' recipe for success. Awesomely!

Angry Bed Positions

Much crabbiness was dispelled this afternoon by some Mil Millington hilarity.

"The 'X' position is a declaration that both performers are convinced that they have God on their side and is quite often accompanied by abrupt, snatching attempts to achieve duvet hegemony and aggressive, warning displays of pillow straightening."

See also his 2006 Christmas letter. He is SO my Internet boyfriend.

Funny Lady

Apparently, the U.K.'s Daily Mail employs Catskills comedians, who, in turn, are still making jokes about women drivers. Oh, ha ha ha, yeah. Hilarious. Also hilarious: how we don't know anything about cars and are helpless in the face of shelves that must be assembled.

Dude, Henny Youngman is dead. Maybe you should stop ripping off his material.

Link via Jezebel

Oh No She Didn't

Some new evidence has surfaced in the case of the bigamous condiment. Hybrid Fat-N-Sassy has sent me this:



She had this to say:

"I didn't want to have to do this, but Mully provoked me by sending me a link to her honeymoon with Sunbutter blog. I simply can't allow her to go flourishing about, taking a sinful pride in her bigamous marriage with my husband. Attached please find a photo from our wedding, which occurred before Mully's false wedding to Sunbutter."

She signs herself "Mrs. Sunbutter."

Correct me if I'm wrong, but: Oh Snap!

Facelift

I had to change my blog template. I was afraid with that pink that people weren't taking me seriously. However, somehow the picture I uploaded to the header is blocking the blog description box. Stupid technology.

Prank Calls

Maria is masquerading as the baby Jesus. Turns out he has a lisp.

Twisted Metal

Here's some bridge-collapse aftermath for you. They are gathering the truss pieces on the riverbank next to the Washington Avenue bridge. I bike over the bridge on my way to work some days.

They seem to be arranging some of the pieces in the form of the structure:

It all seems so self-evidently flimsy in pieces like that. Like, how did it stay up for so long?

Pony!

I cannot believe I have a legitimate reason to share my most favorite bumper sticker with all y'all:

But I do! Meet Red Feather, newest addition to my brother's family. Here he is with Ben and Abby and Tess the dog:

It's every kid's dream! Except Kate. Her mother reports that she is pony-indifferent but excited that she can climb to the top of the ladder. Atta girl!

Someday...

... I'm going to have an orange kitty.



I might name him Cheeto. Or maybe Peaches.

Fin

Here's the missing ending to our condiment love story -- the wedding kiss:



The rest is history. Thanks for sending it, Boomer.

Art! Art! Art!

Mully totally hooked me up with one of her originals, and today I got it up on the wall. Dig:



It's called "Mule-Baby." I lurve it -- Thanks Mully!

P.S. to the artist: Why don't you have a blog devoted to your art? Where's the bunny love?

Proper Usage

Hybrid Fat-n-Sassy's last comment made me think of this:



Now you know.

Via BoingBoing

Sun Anyone?

I think I'm going to spend some of my hard-earned cash on a sunny vacation in February -- see if I can't stave off the mid-winter blues. Anyone want to join me? No kayaking experience necessary!

Nutty Love or How I Married a Condiment: The Mully Story

It's the oldest story in the world: Girl meets nut butter. Girl falls in love with nut butter. Girl drags her friends to South Dakota to participate in marriage to nut butter, drink.

The perfor.. er, festivities began the night before with the bachlorette party. Here's the bride with her sister, who is special:

We consumed much Sunbutter (the groom), and the bride, who's totally got a thing going on the side with tequila, made up a new drink by combining Jose Cuervo with champagne. The b. pronounced it "peppery" (it IS kinda cool, you should try it), and it came to be known as the Peppery Bitch. She will now be ordering it in every bar she goes to, because she is all about viral marketing.

On the drive across the state, we stopped in Wall so the bride and her maid of honor could strike sexy poses with fiberglass animals. That's how we roll in the S.D.:

For those of you who are unfamiliar with S.D. wildlife, that is a jackelope -- cross between a jackrabbit and an antelope. There were taxidermied jackelope heads on sale for a mere $69.99. Because on a S.D. vacation, you don't just visit another state. You visit an alternate reality. Woo!

You can also see a recreation of the poker game in which Wild Bill Hickock got hisself shot, complete with creepy mannequins:

But we did FINALLY reach Hermosa and held the blessed event. Here's the bride getting her hair done in the cowboy room by her maid of honor:

The groom's family was seated first. I thought they had a disapproving air:

The cowboy preacher, his beer, and his cigarette were in place along with the groom.

The flower girl exuberantly flung fragrant buds everywhere:

And the maid of honor and best man danced their way down the aisle:

At last, the bride walked the aisle to the tune of Glen Campbell's "Sunflower." Isn't she ravishing?

She clearly thinks so! The preacher got on with the service, which included some cowboy poetry on the subject of love. The congregation responded with resounding "Yipee-ty-yi-yays!"

Some people thought they could detect a telling bulge in the bride's abdomen, and speculated that this might be a shotgun wedding. But she was drinking like a fish, so we hope the rumors are untrue!

The bride's sister, Suspiciously Pleased, sang Annie's Song, accompanied by the best man, and then performed an interpretive dance. The congregants were visibly moved.

At this point, my camera battery died, which often happens while spending a few days with people who insist that you immortalize their every move on film. Perhaps Boomer can forward the photo of the bride and groom kissing. Our story hardly feels finished without it.

Swimmin' Hole

Part of my Labor Day weekend in the Black Hills of S.D. was spent in the local swimmin' hole with Boomer, Suspiciously Pleased, and J. Boomer is a super cute master of the rocks.



Meanwhile, S.P and I were recreating the famous men's synchronized swimming short film from SNL. "I know you! I know you!"

Don't tell me you haven't seen it! Here's an abridged version:

That. Never gets old.

Taped Over

OMG! It's the first ep of Maria's new season!

Business Time

There is much reportage to come about the long weekend, but I'll get you started with a bit we heard (and loved!) on one of the Sirius comedy channels. It's by an outfit called Flight of the Conchords:



Oh man. So good.

They Oughta be in Jail, Part II

This sounds about right:

Patients seeking an appointment with a dermatologist to ask about a potentially cancerous mole have to wait substantially longer than those seeking Botox for wrinkles, a study published online yesterday by The Journal of the American Academy of Dermatology said.

Seriously. Freakin' criminals.

The Great Minnesota Pig Pile

It was a crowded day at the Fair on Friday, but I managed to hit the high points, like the Creative Arts building (i.e. all the sewing, quilts, knitting, other needle arts, baked and canned goods -- basically the home ec crowd). The traditional and sentimental are favored by fair judges: oil paintings of firefighters labeled "The Brave and Unappreciated," the quilt in a traditional Scandanavian pattern, the crop art of a girl hugging her 4-H calf. So I'm always pleased when the entries get a little weird:

Dig that hem:

There's a red ribbon on that bad boy! I think that's a second tier award in MN State Fair parlance. (We did things a little differently in the S.D.)

I was also digging on this awesome knit (crocheted?) hat, complete with pearly ornaments:

That would look hot on my friend Betsy. I had the requisite fried cheese:

and then moved on to the Fine Arts Building, where the populace was all about the serious art:

Bring the art to the people, man! They can't get enough. But I'm biased: I buy all my art at the Fair. Which brings me, inevitably, to the crop art. Not the most exciting showing this year-- there was a large memorial to Lillian Colton and her work, though -- but I did enjoy this bit of oddness:

This one got the main prize and place of honor and deservedly so, I think.

And check out Dolly's hair!:

I made a quick stop at the dairy barn on my way out but only one of the butter heads had been carved:

For those of you unaware of our tribal customs, the finalists in the Princess Kay of the Milky Way pageant (a.k.a. the dairy queen contest) each get their heads carved in 60 pounds of butter while the populace watches entranced. The ladies also get to take their butter busts home and, presumably, have a huge corn-on-the-cob feed at which their nearest and dearest roll hot cobs over their heads. Good times!

Angry Letters to Medical Administrators

I couldn't decide if I should post this, but ultimately decided that it was OK to let friends know that I get scared. This is about a visit to the doctor for a biopsy. The test came out clean. All is well. Warning to boys: Icky girl stuff to follow.


Dear Clinic Administrator,

I received your letter asking me to fill out the survey about my visit. However, the online survey wouldn’t accept my answer to the question about what could have improved my visit. Here it is:

I shouldn’t have had to wait for two weeks to get an appointment for a BIOPSY! That is a scary test to have to contemplate for 16 days. I realize this is routine stuff for medical staff, but it made me very anxious. In fact, it eventually caused an anxiety attack, complete with chest pains.

When my primary doctor called to tell me that I had an abnormal PAP smear, why did she make sure I knew the name of the test I needed so I could tell the person making the appointment? Why couldn’t she just order the test—as she would have for lab tests—so there was no possibility of me ending up with the wrong procedure? I saw a specialist in the same clinic!

The nurse that checked me in, weighed me, and so on should not have suggested that the test I was there to get was not the one that would normally be given to people who have an abnormal PAP smear. See anxiety about correct test above.

Though the person scheduling my test did not mention it, it occurred to me that it might matter that I would have my period on the test day. I called the nurse line and asked about it. She said it was fine and might actually be preferable. That was incorrect. When I came in for the test, the doctor said it was not optimal to have my period and there was a possibility that the rather painful test would have to be performed again, if the first one didn’t yield the necessary sample.

Why did I have to ask the question about my period? Why did the scheduler not know to ask? And further, why wasn’t I offered additional information about the test, what it entails, and what the results of my PAP smear meant?

The doctor seemed surprised and taken aback that I was upset. But I had been waiting so long! And maybe now I’d have to wait longer if the test didn’t come out right! Also, does no one you know get scared at the thought of a BIOPSY?

I had to wait another week to get the results of the test – why does it take so long? I spent almost an entire month worrying about this.

And while I have your attention: When I came in for my PAP smear, I was kept waiting in a gown for at least 30 minutes in an exam room that must have been colder than 60 degrees. Freezing!

Frankly, my terror at possibly having a serious disease was compounded by the idea of having to regularly interact with medical professionals who couldn’t care less about my state of mind or how it might be affecting my health. Glad to have dodged that bullet!

Regards,

Sassmaster

Girl!

I don't have much use for the TV show Scrubs, but I lurve that song "Poison" by Bell Biv Devoe. And Donald Faison, who plays Turk, is pretty cool. So this is a little bit of alright:

Fat and Not Crazy

Here's the excuse du jour for indulging in a can of Pringles:

Early Weight Loss in Women Linked to Dementia

Serial Polygamy

The winning question on 1 vs. 100 tonight pitted Larry King with Henry VIII: Who had more wives. Turns out it's LK with 7. Henry only pledged his troth 6 times.

It's biographical details like these that make me think I'm not moving fast enough. Shouldn't I have burned through 2 or 3 marriages by now? I guess it'd be easier to meet people if I was on television or, you know, a monarch.

Killer Bags

Plastic bags are a freaking scourge, y'all. Read the Salon article if you don't believe me.

I'm called to action: I'll make/find/buy a fabric shopping bag and deliver it free to anyone who asks for one in the comments.

Via Yummy Turtle

Get Ron Popeil on the Phone

Product idea: For all those people who are embarrassed to wear hearing aids, they should just build one into those cell phone ear pieces. No one would know the difference.



I kind of think those things are embarrassing, but to each his own.

Your Paws are Getting Heavy

Friends A. and C. in California can hypnotize their bunny Emily:



See if you can make her cluck like a chicken!

Never Meanin' No Harm

Look, I know it's way too early, but I had a moment this weekend picturing the Duke boys jumping the river where the bridge failed. The frame freezes with the General Lee in the air as we go to commercial. Roscoe lands in the soup and splashes mud all over Pres. Bush.

I know, I know. I'm going to hell.

Ancestral Antics

Click on image for larger version.

Dude! So I was dinking around on ancestry.com, 'cause you can make these cool family trees. Also, there is an absurd amount of infomation online about my material grandmother's family. However, having entered information going back six generations, I found that two of my maternal grandmother's grandparents were first cousins. Which makes her parents second cousins. Oy, those crazy Germans.

So. If you are aware of any pronounced peculiarities in my nature, you know what the problem is.