Well...guess we don't really use these things anymore, huh.

I think pop culture is headed for a genuine culture crash here.  Not clash, mind you, but crash, the kind with body parts and mangled, burning metal.

This crappy link is purportedly a collection of "Ghetto Fabulous Prom Pictures."  Which, okay, that is certainly time-wasting shit that exists on the internet.  But why does it look like an anime ( Read more... )

It's kind of weird to jump from having maybe thirty people a day reading your writing to 300,000.

A phone call that really happened at work:

CALLER:  Hi, I have kind of a weird cooking question?

ME:  Go ahead.

CALLER:  How many milliliters are there in a liter? [em. sic]

ME: ...a thousand?

CALLER:  Great!  Thank you!  Bye.

I read a lot of books when I was growing up (invariably by British authors) that made reference to kettles "whistling" or "singing."  It always sounded very cozy, but the sound is actually more of a soul-draining screech of death.

That is all.

If I don't know your snail-mail address, I can't send you Christmas cards!  Get that shit to me.

You can e-mail me at "myfirstname.mylastname (at) gmail (dot) com" or give me a ring or something,

Why is my brain so damn contrary?

I have a pot of soup on my stovetop.  It's a big pot, and I have to eat it all, because I'm leaving town tomorrow afternoon and I don't particularly want to find room in my fridge for a big-ass pot of soup.  It's good soup; I made it myself.  Fucking delicious.

But no, my brain wants ramen noodle soup.  With an egg ( Read more... )

I was just going to post it here, and then I went and turned it into a full blog post.  So if you wanted to see the real answer to the whole "twelve parsecs is a measure of distance not time" thing, just check out today's blog post.  And if you didn't even know what I was talking about, shame on you!

I'm all for reusable hippie alternatives to disposable products, but whoever made these "reusable paper towels" forgot that we already had a word for those.  They're called towels, and I don't particularly want to use mine to pick up cat vomit or whatever.  

It occurs to me that:

• I have not lived with my parents since the summer immediately after graduating from college.  
• I haven't needed to borrow money from them either, though Dad still goes "Happy Whatever, here's a couple month's health insurance money!" for holidays sometimes.
• I cook real food every damn day.  Like a full, sit-down meal for two (or ( Read more... )