National Celibacy Day

November 2nd: No Dick, No Bush

Alternately, Votergasm

The Voting Song

Vote, vote, vote!
Vote, vote, vote!
Unless you are a potted plant,
'Cause potted plants can't vote.

They Also Accept Beads and Feathers for Real Estate

From here:

The Austrian people make our visit even more delightful with their friendliness and the warm welcome they give our balloons. They often gather at our landings, frequently wearing their splendid traditional dress.

"Aww, look honey... Cute little Austrians with their cute traditional dress..."
"Why yes, dear. Did you know they have a fully-functioning government, and have invented both fire and the wheel?"

On an unrelated note, here is a list of things on my bedside table:

Stack of partially-read books

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

If on a Winter's Night a Traveler

Fight Club

Coningsby

Year of Wonders

Summers at Castle Auburn

A Vindication of the Rights of Woman

Gulliver's Travels

Running with Scissors

The Secret Life of Bees

Detection by Gaslight

Fountain pen in case (no ink)
Carved Chinese box
Nano-Fictionary (storytelling card game)
Empty glass
Sharpie
Non-functioning cell phone
Pillar candle with stand
Contraceptive jelly
Fork
Thermometer
Q-tip (unused)
Movie ticket stub
Lighter
Center for Wooden Boats button
Bookstore frequent buyer card
Notebook
Mechanical pencil
Journal
Ballpoint pen

Bet! Bet! Bet!

There's this game I ran across somewhere: I shuffle my current playlist, and take the first ten songs that come up (excluding repeated titles or artists, and no skipping the embarrasing stuff), and write down a random line from each one. Then you all guess what they are.

The winner will be immortalized in the halls of Zeitgeist until I forget to renew my domain and it disappears.

1. Sweet sixteen ain't so peachy keen, no, it ain't so neat to admit defeat
2. Now she walks through her sunken dream to the seat with the clearest view
3. He thought he was still dangerous; paunchy, but dangerous
4. It looks a lot like engine oil and tastes like being poor and small
5. You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan
6. The king he called his sailors all: by one, by two, by three
7. You rhapsodize about beauty and my eyes glaze
8. Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind
9. Three sad semesters - it was only fifteen grand
10. From ballet class to a lap dance, straight to video

So have at it. I didn't click that "enable comments" box for nothing, people.

The Spice Must Flow

Yesterday, I discovered that my favorite spicemonger has a
book out! Since he is, in fact, the only spicemonger I know, I suppose that also makes him my least favorite spicemonger.

Amazon would like to suggest that I buy Herbs & Spices with Herbs & Spices by Jill Norman today, which just goes to show the importance of ISBNs. Or possibly of being an author who isn't named Jill Norman.

You'd think that was as spicy as a day could get, wouldn't you?

I live near a Walgreens. They have a big scrolling sign advertising their daily specials.

Spices 2/$1.00

I think the vital question here is: which unit of spice? I mean, what will my fifty cents get me? A single clove? An ounce of cinnamon? A container of Mrs. Dash? Spices were once valued as trade goods, you know. Can I turn around and redeem my spice-unit for, say, a goat? Jewelry? A nubile virgin of some sort? (How many sorts are there, do you suppose?)

'But surely,' I hear you saying, 'surely you can have no further tales of spiciness with which to regale us!' And there's where you're wrong.

After my driving-past-Walgreens adventure, I went to Fremont for my writing group, where Stephanie felt that her latte was far spicier than it ought to have been, and suspected her husband of putting pepper in it.

She said it was pretty good.