Friday, January 15, 2010

"Can you make sure all my teachers are in there when you knock it down?"

Thursday, January 14, 2010

please pardon my asbestos dust

If my blog suddenly disappears, it does not mean I've had a nervous breakdown. That's what I assume about people who delete blogs and social networking profiles without warning. I'm trying to fix the comments. Still.

update: I figured it out. I hope to never talk about this again.

Fran Lebowitz: Reflections on Austen from The Morgan Library & Museum on Vimeo.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

haagen-dazs crisis

This clip illustrates how animals and people respond to moments of confusion and disorientation. It is also hilarious.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

abrasive poultry

Death Metal Rooster makes me laugh.

good news/bad news

Good news is I haven't seen a mouse dash across the kitchen floor in many months. Bad news is I found a dead mouse in the box fan in my bedroom. I wasn't planning on taking apart a box fan today or ever, but the world works in mysterious ways.

follow up questions:
Did the mouse die of natural causes?
Poisoned by my neighbors?
Why die next to a whirring motor and blade?
Did it jump into the fan while it was running and commit suicide?
Do mice commit suicide?
Did it commit suicide while I was sleeping?
Oh god.
No, I'm fine.

Sunday, January 10, 2010


Comments are gone. Haloscan cut its free commenting service, and I didn't re-up for $12. I'd rather buy a burrito and a six-pack of Icehouse beer. I'm trying to figure out how to get Blogger-brand comments back. I've made a pig's shitbox out of the HTML of the blogger template. Kind of like when an electrician looks at the wiring of an old building and says "It's a miracle this building hasn't burned down." The problem with knowing a little HTML is it's usually not enough knowledge to undo what you done did. And if you only read this blog in Google reader, never mind. Carry on. This is boring. I've just bored myself.

correction: I can get a burrito and a TWELVE-pack of Icehouse. Do you say twelve-pack of beer or do you say case of beer? Either way, you can't reply because there are no comments.

Saturday, January 09, 2010

arbitrary rating: the Damen Ave bus

Grade: B-

The Damen Avenue bus is the bus that stops service 10 minutes before you need it. And it's snowing. It's only 10:15pm. How could a bus on a main street not be in service then, I mean, right? I'll wait. I can wait. The bus will come. See! -- there's the Southbound Damen bus. That means the north bound one must still be running, right? Wrong. That's the CTA tease: when one direction is cut a full hour before the other. Waiting for the Damen Ave bus is like being stuck and abandoned in an elevator for 41 hours. Give up and take a cab. So much for saving money.

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

I'll believe it when I have to dig out the car

Rush hour snarl this, parking restrictions that, bend at the knees when heaving that shovel-full of snow, blah blibbity bloo. My favorite part of snow in the city? Dogs wearing snow booties. Not only is the dog wearing shoes, but its owner spent 5 minutes putting those shoes on the dog.

Other advice: don't chase your child through a wintry hedgemaze with an ax (see photo), or succumb to a fit of paradoxical undressing. It's embarrassing.

"And wear a hat." --your mom

Tuesday, January 05, 2010

"What is this? OMG? WTF? Squishy! MMMmmmm Tasty!" -- squirrel monkey

Giving Jell-o to zoo animals is a good idea. Next step is to put raw meat in giant blocks of Jell-o for the lions.

Monday, January 04, 2010

arbitrary rating: bathroom stalls lacking a hook to hang a coat or a bag

Grade: C+

I went to a friend's surprise birthday party at Medieval Times. I used two different Ladies Restroom stalls that evening. Neither had a hook to hang my coat and bag. But both stalls used to have hooks, as evidenced by drill holes in the door -- my deductive skills are tip-top because I just saw Robert Downey Jr deduct things while punching people in Sherlock Holmes. The drill holes in the stall were painted over. Medieval Times cared enough to repaint the stalls, but not to replace the hook so I wouldn't have to set my bag on the floor in possible pee spatter. Yes men, it's true: women can be just as disgusting. Look, I know it's the Middle Ages. The maintenance staff are busy crusading or barfing up a lung of Black Death, but all I ask for in life is a hook in the bathroom stall, a chicken leg to gnaw, and a paper crown on my head while I sip a $7.50 Newcastle and watch grown men with long greasy hair hit each other with swords.