Recent license plates:

DNAGENE
LVLYLDY
4SIDPOO
DRKLADY
SIXNINE

With the exception of 4SIDPOO (?), this is quite obviously the best batch of plates of all time.

I’m out of pocket again today, but here’re some pictures that describe my Thanksgiving: (more…)

Dear Martha Stewart’s Recipe for Pumpkin Cookies with Brown-Butter Icing:

WTF? (more…)

Is there anything more boring than hearing about someone’s dreams? No? I didn’t think so.

Last night in my dream I went to the hospital to visit the Floon twins and ended up having a baby myself. Yeah, I was apparently 9 months pregnant and didn’t notice. Which is especially odd because my baby was 17 pounds. I named him Oscar. The baby looked really familiar and this morning I realized that he wasn’t my baby after all.

He was Finslippy’s son, Henry.

Again I must ask: is it worse to dream about blog people or soap opera people? Both are clearly pathetic. But which is worse?

This weekend included the following elements: standing by, amused, as Larry ate durian for the first time and confirmed what he’d heard about them smelling like rotten flesh and tasting just the same; cleaning the house with a methamphetamine-like fervor in preparation for our Thanksgiving guests next week; finishing a great, satisfying, amazingly researched book. (more…)

Monday:
DeGrassi Junior High:
Kathleen is a control freak with an eating disorder. Also, Joey Jeremiah is cute.

Tuesday:
Gilmore Girls:
Rory and Lorelai make up! I am teary and happy! Then, suddenly, embarrassed that I am so teary and happy over fake people reuniting.

DeGrassi Junior High:
Joey Jeremiah’s band, Zit Remedy, makes a video.
Note: this episode is saved on the tivo if anyone wants to come over and watch it.

Wednesday:
Top Model:
Kim gets in trouble for talking bad about everyone and cries. The photo challenge was that all six girls cram their naked selves into a phone booth and then pose. My favorite Top Model moment ever: Lisa farts in the phone booth. And then…gets booted off, even though she takes beautiful pictures and Jayla, the insane elf, takes oogly ones.

Lost:
Snaw…choo…snaw…choo…then, someone gets murdered, and then someone else gets murdered! And then time catches up with itself, sort of, and the previews for next week look really good. The previews always look really good. The previews are the best part of this show.

Martha Apprentice:
Dumb. However, it is possible that I am in love with Marcela.

DeGrassi Junior High:
LD has leukemia, Kathleen’s boyfriend beats her up, and Michelle and BLT continue their illicit interracial romance.

Thursday:

DeGrassi Junior High:
In a get-well-soon video for LD, a fledgling rap group struggles through a “song” about how cool LD is. The members include 3 black guys and KATHLEEN. I guess she had to do something to boost her self-confidence after that whole anorexia and really bad boyfriend thing.

Survivor:
Just when I think, this show’s going straight into the toilet, something happens and the game totally changes! And the paranoid Georgian got booted off! And when he did he made a plaintive, guttural howl of discontent! It made Gary Hogeboom laugh! And me scream! Between Kathleen’s rap and Jamie’s howl, I have a full and complete television experience.

I got home from work last night as the storm really started to pour down, made dinner and a cake (gorjus: it’s that pear cake you like), and was about to sit down and eat when I stepped in something on the living room rug. (more…)

I’m out of the office again this week, but here are some things that, if I did have the time to talk to you, I would tell you about in detail: (more…)

I was unreasonably angry that Top Model was a rerun last week, but man. Last night’s episode was well worth the wait. (more…)

I have successfully avoided much further contact with the insane Jon Donne, but he replied today for the third or fourth time to the last message I sent him a few weeks ago, so I wrote him back and asked what was up. Here is his reply, which is so . . . something it makes me want to pull all my hair out:

I just started training for the marathon last Saturday to raise money for leukemia and lymphoma. I will send you my web site so you can keep track of my progress if you want. And the girl I was having sex (before marriage) with just emailed me. That’s about it right now.

I’m pretty sure I can never talk to him again. This person is 34 years old and used the term “sex (before marriage)” in all seriousness.

In related news, Sex (Before Marriage) is the name of my new band.

I met Patience for lunch today and as we were leaving, I ran into someone I knew. It was, by far, the most excruciatingly awkward encounter of my life. (more…)

It’s not too late to participate in NaNoWriMo 2005. I just signed up. If you don’t finish, you can always justify it by saying you started late. Who’s with me?

I’ve apparently lost the ability to write more than a paragraph about any given thing, so here’s yet another bulleted list of various tidbits, including a brief DL update. (more…)

I’ve been out of the office (and out of town) the past few days, but I’m home for lunch and wanted to update, at least just to say hello. (more…)

I was reading in the new Smithsonian (I love that magazine!) that 35 years ago, Simon and Garfunkel and the Carpenters swept the Grammys. Now I know why I have that empty feeling: I was born too late.

In other news, I was driving home the other night listening to some truly wretched songs, like Rick Astley’s never-gonna-give-never-gonna-give-give-you-up and “Hit Me with Your Best Shot,” which I have determined is up there in the top 5 worst songs ever. (Number 1: “Ghostbusters.”) First of all, the music sounds exactly like it came from the Grease 2 soundtrack, namely the bowling alley song, “Score Tonight.” (Note: I have the Grease 2 soundtrack on vinyl and cd, so I should know. My record used to skip during the part where Johnny Nogorelli — Adrian Zmed! — slides down the bowling lane and screams aaaaaaaaaaah ah ah ah! and my friend Christi Edwards and I used to prank call people and let Johnny go aaaaaaaaaaaaah ah ah ah! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah ah ah ah! over and over. Good times.)

Secondly, the lyrics of “Hit Me with Your Best Shot” are crap. The song’s synopsis can be summed up thusly: You are such a slut! That’s hot! Wanna screw? And the line about the lipstick case makes me tear my hair out, because of course women don’t wear belts to cut notches in. Of course Pat Benetar must use her lipstick case — she’s a girl! — to indicate the number of sexual conquests she’s had. Unless the line is meant to be ironic and/or faux patronizing, in which case it is kind of okay.

The end.