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As I skulked around the unlit apartment, right hand clasping the hem of the blanket thrown around my shoulder ready to ward off any stray beam of sunlight, left hand clamped to my throbbing orbital socket covering my face from jawbone to hairline, I thought…
“Maybe the Phantom of the Opera just had migraines.”
spammer scammers, you are dumb. I suspect you could recruit more candidates for your scamtastic offers of degree completion and scholarships if you could teach your spambots that it’s not spelled univisertiy, uvernisity, or even uiniversity.
spammer scammers, you are geniuses. Today I received a scammy spam announcing an enormous cash compensation payable to previous victims of (unspecified) 419 scam, which presumably is designed to appeal to recipients who have already bitten a hook at least once. Phish in a barrel. GENIUS.
You know the party is really rolling when the lights go out!
Thanks to an hours-long blackout in my neighborhood, I’ll be postponing my next Sandwich Party update ’til Monday… at least. See you when the lights go on!
Lately I’m seeing undeniable signs of spring. Oh, I’m not talking about daffodils, Easter bonnets, or robins trilling on a budding branch, though those are heartening, too. Here are a few reliable signs that spring has sprung:
- Passover Coca Cola with the yellow cap. [Previously on macbebekin, though the images are stripped.]
- And, courtesy of Jagosaurus, a harbinger of spring in our nation’s capital: the appearance of the National Cherry Festival mascot… Paddles The Beaver. No, really: Paddles The Beaver.
Heads up, movie buffs: Mr. Videoport Jones (a.k.a., The Fella) and intrepid reporter Justin Ellis will be live-blogging the Oscars for the Portland Press Herald. The NXT Gal and I will be with them in the isolation booth, mixing cocktails and cracking wise. You can count yourself in on the Facebook event page, and tune in to the NXT Generation on Sunday night!
Though I’m not a big believer in New Year’s resolutions, I’ve arbitrarily chosen this month to reduce my caffeine intake. And for no good reason; I was, after all, restricting myself to a sub-lethal dose.
For about a week now, I’ve been having one enormous homemade cappuccino in the morning, not one in the morning and one in the afternoon. In real-world terms, this means I’ve gone from six-to-eight shots of espresso a day to about four shots. That’s a big change, and explains my recent silence here; without the nervous pounding energy of a near-toxic caffeine load, I don’t feel the urge to typetypetypeohmygodtype.
I’m sure it will return. I think.
Christmas came early ’round these parts!
A few weeks ago, I discovered The Alchemist’s Blog, where Alchemy Gen writes about food and its attendant issues with real thoughtfulness and verve. When I came to her entry asking for tips and tricks on hosting a cookie exchange, of course I waded right in, because who doesn’t like to give advice? Especially advice that lingers lovingly on sweet, sweet cookies and holiday fun?
And that brings us to the early Christmas: today, Alchemy Gen emailed to notify me that she’d be sending me a sweet cookie-making kit, complete with moveable type for embossing personalized slogans. I couldn’t be more tickled! I know for sure: next Christmas, I’ll honor family jokes..
[Note: Uncharacteristically salty language ahead!]
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Happy 40th birthday to Sesame Street! In celebration, I suggest you take a one-minute dance party and shake it to the pinball song.
“It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”
While the other kids are showing off their costumes and trick-or-treating for candy, Linus sits in the pumpkin patch and tacitly teaches us about hope, self-doubt, and humility.
Every year, Linus waits for the Great Pumpkin… and every year, Linus is disappointed. Yet he persists: he tries to sustain the wavering hope that this year something transcendent will visit him, will validate his years of sacrifice and trust.
Linus: Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He’s gotta pick this one. He’s got to! I don’t see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there’s not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see.
Linus is the Fox Mulder of the Peanuts gang: he wants to believe. I love you, Linus, even though you’re the sad puppet of a fundamentalist gourd-based religious faction.
Elli
Elsa
