I also think a lot of people got them as Christmas gifts this year (just like me), as I'm spotting a lot more of them on my commute to and from work each day. If you're alone anywhere and you want to strike up a conversation, all you have to do is haul your Kindle out and someone will be asking you about it in minutes.
I like mine so much that I finally convinced my financial advisor that Amazon was a good buy right now... and, after she did the research and realized that not being back-lit makes it really easy on the eyes, she gave in and bought me some stock. (Which, BTW, is doing quite nicely.)
If what you want is a reader that you can use for email or simple web searches in a pinch, this is is the doohickey for you. If, on the other hand, you want it for gaming, music, videos, and the like, go get on the iPad wait list. Personally, I think there's plenty of room for both devices on the market. _____
Whoever wrote that lovely obit really knew loved that man. (No, I've never heard of nor met the man before. That first line just caught my eye as I went scrolling past the obits today.) _____
Via Dr. Helen, I tripped over this post questioning whether men are better bloggers than women. Author Susannah Breslin then slots female bloggers into three categories:
For the most part, I’ve found, women bloggers fall into three categories: “mommybloggers,” “ladybloggers,” and “women who blog like men.”
Phooey. (I love that word.)
Then she says,
I’m a woman who, more often than not, blogs like a man. Sure, I’ve sometimes been known to tread into the dreaded territory of “feelings” and “relationships,” posts I often regret having posted. I’m far more comfortable weighing in on topics and in ways I venture Wente would deem more “male”: current events, heated debates, racy subjects. I blog like a man.
That is the most sexist bunch of claptrap I've heard in a while, as it insinuates that if you engage your brain, you are acting like a man -- thus, if you feel or intuit, you are feminine (and stupid!); if you posit or use logic, you are masculine (and smart!).
Who believes that line of horse hockey in this day and age?
What the blogosphere needs is fewer Martha Stewarts and more Danica Patricks, more real debate and less positing women as the victims of a patriarchal society gone bloggy-wild, more men that blog like women and more women who blog like men.
Nah. What the blogosphere needs more of is writers who know and are comfortable with their own voice, regardless of age, gender, color or creed, and who are passionate about their subject(s). Really, it's those things that make a blog readable.
As for those three rigid slots she sees for women bloggers? I suggest she visit a BlogHerconference just once, and that would peel her eyeballs opened as to just how vast the borgaschmord of women bloggers is and how diverse their subject matters. _____
Meet Sweetie Pete, a/k/a "Speedo Gonzalez." (Yes, if you embiggen enough, you'll see the Speedo over the jeans.) I need a caption for this photo so that I can LOLerize it, have it printed in at least 8"X10" format, frame it and send it down to Mexico with Speedo and CancunAnne to decorate their new joint under the palapa, looking out over the beach.
I see articles like this that lament the lack of library staff and resources, music and art programs, etc., and I think of the Princess Mom, who was so busy and influential in my own grade school:
While she wasn’t a huggy, kissy mother, she was an involved mother – room mother, den mother, picture lady, she also helped start up and run our elementary school’s library.
Instead of bemoaning what the state isn't giving us, maybe it's time to bring back volunteerism and bring moms and dads back into the classroom on a regular basis, at least until life gets back to "normal" -- whatever that may become.
I know mom was really hurt when she got told, "Thanks a lot for all you've done and don't let the door smack you in the ass on the way out," when the library was up and running and the school district decided to bring in a "real" librarian to run the joint... but she also had the satisfaction of knowing that the library wouldn't have existed in the first place without her and the handful of other moms who conceived it, stocked it, organized it and ran it first (and would probably still be running the darned thing today, given the chance). _____
Easter is coming. Time for Peeps on Parade! (Stop back, as more photos are added daily.) _____
Ear Worm of the Day:
_____
I recently had a dream that included Rahm Emanuel and William Shatner doing a skit wherein they were both channeling smart-ass dogs (black & tan, short coats, Doberman mixes) and Becky (with a boyfriend 10 years her junior in tow) in the same night. While you wrap your head around that odd combination, keep in mind that wasn't as nutty as this... and I don't speak out loud like this.
While economically behind the rest of Europe in many ways, Macedonians use cell phones over land lines by a ratio of 5.47:1. TV knocks radio right out of the park, 76 TV broad cast stations to 69 radio stations. There were approximately 847,900 internet users as of 2008, and at least one of them found my blog. How cool is that?
My beautiful daughter's wonderful dad is retiring today, so I'm outta here... and off to his retirement party! How lucky I am to be able to share this with them! _____
To all those "mistresses," "escorts," "girlfriends," "porn stars," etc. who think it's okay to come crawling out of the woodwork to ruin people's lives in the name of making a buck -- I refuse to read a thing about you, won't link to articles about you and refuse to discuss you any further after this post.
You are not worth my time.
You are beneath contempt.
By taking money in order to open your big yap and thereby harming people who certainly don't deserve it, you reveal yourselves as what you are: money-grubbing fame whores with no consciences.
I don't know why the media is giving you and your crass behavior a pass, but I don't and won't.
Crawl back in those holes you slithered out of and stay there.
The man told investigators he was "hunting werewolves and chuds" who, in many cases, take the form of humans. Based on this information, the officers took the man to Harrison Memorial Hospital for an evaluation.
In an effort to eat a little healthier, I bought a bag of Mariani Premium Mixed Fruit... and it's so delicious I went to their website and ordered this, this and this, too! The mixed fruit is really moist and chewy and wonderful -- especially the plums. (And since I usually loathe prunes, that I can type that without making an awful face is nothing short of a miracle.) I can't wait to try the rest. _____
My great grandmother always insisted you had to eat a peck of dirt before you die. Apparently she was onto something:
A little dirt may be good for the heart.
Analyzing data collected from thousands of children over two decades in the Philippines, researchers have concluded that a healthy dose of germs and pathogens during infancy reduced cardiovascular inflammation in adulthood — a precursor to heart attacks and strokes.
"It raises the intriguing possibility that higher levels of exposure to infectious microbes early in life may, in some way, protect you against cardiovascular disease," said Thom McDade, 41, an associate professor of anthropology at Northwestern University who co-authored the study.
Go read the whole thing. And back away from the hand sanitizer... _____
Oooh!
It's coming! _____
Giggle of the Day (inspired by my itty bitty buddy):
Even The Homeless Guy says I shouldn't give to panhandlers. Following me too closely, getting too close to my purse and whining about being hungry only makes me want to get away from you as quickly as possible. Telling me you're a former University of Chicago professor who personally knows Barack Obama? Dude! That's the biggest turn-off of all. Go. Away. I don't need the reminder that we're all going to end up in your shoes after bankrupting ourselves with the health care bill that just passed thanks to your hero.
Sincerely,
Omnibus Driver _____
Let the boys do their NCAA brackets. I'm doing the fashion fug brackets here, instead. Much mo bettah fun and far less stressful. _____
Let me get this straight. We're going to be gifted with a health care plan written by a committee whose chairman says he doesn't understand it, passed by a Congress that hasn't read it but exempts themselves from it, to be signed by a president who also hasn't read it and who smokes, with funding administered by a treasury chief who didn't pay his taxes, to be overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, andfinanced by a country that's broke.
I am sympathetic. However... here's the problem, as I see it: These kids are not being gunned down; they're gunning each other down. The problem starts in the home, and change also needs to start in the home. Standing in the street and praying in front of cameras won't fix anything; being present every day and parenting your own kids well will.
_____
I'm sorry, but $16 million would be better spent on teachers' salaries in this state right now. This is just one more example of governmental decision making processes that care more about pleasing "popular" agendas than actually fulfilling the mandate of educating children in this state. Oh, well. Dick and Jane may not be educated in Illinois, but, by golly, they'll be fashionably fit.
_____
The Illinois Democratic party moves on to the finals in Dem Lt. Governor Candidate Idol next Saturday. Too bad the voters can't vote online or text their votes for their favorites. Oh, wait! They did that already. Oops! My bad.
Maybe not, but a dear friend of mine who works for the IRS informed me Friday night that the IRS has been champing at the bit to begin hiring not hundreds, but thousands, of new IRS agents to do nothing but ensure that businesses and individuals alike are complying with the new law, and that hiring will commence immediately on passage of the legislation. [Update: Here's more proof.]
Mark my words -- we are about to get far more governmental intrusion into our lives and give up far larger portions of our paychecks than we ever thought possible.
Thank you, Mr. Boehner, for requesting a roll call vote. I want to know exactly who I will be working very hard to vote out of office in the next several elections.
[snip] The study did, however, come up with one icky way bigger models can be used to actually influence product sales: “if a normal-size woman sees moderately heavy images in ads for weight-loss products, she might feel overweight and be more inclined to buy a diet plan or gym membership.” Basically, use plus-sized models to make women feel bad enough about themselves that they spend more money on gym memberships and diet products. [The Cut]
What do you think? Do ads with bigger models make you feel better or worse about yourself?
When it's models like these, they just want to make me go shopping for one of everything in their catalog, because I know I'm going to look and feel wonderful... and that's good, because I'm already educated, unlike Dick and Jane.
_____
Yes, once upon a time I did PrincessIdol. No, this wasn't me:
(Stick with this. It gets really... um... interesting... around the 1:20 mark.)
Seriously, I'd never do that to people.
_____
Programmed by elitists? And here I thought the Tea Party movement was full of booger-eating morons...
I have already entered a zero for the midterm for each of you who blew it off. If you want that zero changed into something else, be bloody sure you get that test taken before your time is up. After I place your test in the Testing Center, the rest is entirely up to you. If you don’t get yourself up there, the zero stands.
If you allow that zero to stand, you will need to present yourself to the registrar to withdraw from the class. You’ll also be required to pay back your financial aid.
Sincerely, Professor Had-It-Up-To-Here with the lot of you.
P.S. Students who showed up on the proper day get bonus points, which will be added at the end of the semester. Also? These students rock. They’re awesome, while you’re. . . . well, never mind. It was an antonym. I hope you had a good time in Cancun.
India! (Usually I try to do a greeting in the principal language of a country... but India has 61 languages: Adi, Aka, Angami, Ao, Apatani, Assamese, Balti, Bengali, Bhutia, Chakhesang, Chang, Dadri, Digaru-Mismi, Dogri, English, French, Garhwali, Garo, Gojri, Gujarati, Hill Miri, Hindi, Idu-Mishmi, Jeseri (Dweep Bhasha), Kannada, Kashmiri, Khamti, Khasi, Kokborak, Konkani, Konyak, Kumaoni, Ladakhi, Lepcha, Limbu, Lotha, Mahal, Malayalam, Manipuri, Marathi, Miju-Mishmi, Miji, Mizo, Monpa, Nepali, Nicobarese, Nocte, Nyishi, Oriya, Pahari, Punjabi, Rajasthani, Sangtam, Sema, Sherdukpen, Tagin, Tamil, Tangsa, Telegu, Urdu, Wancho -- I know because I went state by state (28) and province by province (7) to collect 'em all. Among the principal languages? English, Gujarati, Hindi, Malayalam, Punjabi, Tamil, Telegu and Urdu -- take your pick.)
Wagah is the only road crossing the India/Pakistan international border, and is famous for the "lowering of the flag" and gate closing ceremony each evening. It is fascinating, as the military uniforms differ little except for color and the marching and posturing has all the color and aggression of a cock fight:
Fascinating!
(Who knew that a daily spin through my site meter stats would turn out to be so much fun and educational?)
Why can I so clearly picture this guy falling out of the stoopid tree and hitting every single branch on the way down? _____
Once again Jihad Gene is off wrestling with the ruvly Kim's new blamboo flow. One of these days he's actually going to show up for the dance party that he started, by golly!
In the meantime, in his honor, "It's Friday! Let's Dance!"
I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a little "Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop."
"Cuff him! Arrest him! I don't care, that manatee is going down!"
"Green bananas. I've got lots and lots of green bananas. Really I've got lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of fucking bananas. Please somebody get rid of my green bananas!"
Fess Parker, one of my childhood heroes, not once, but twice over, has passed away. If you are of my generation, you knew the words to both these theme songs by heart, and you cried your eyes out to the third:
I received my census packet in the mail today. I filled it out and mailed it right back in, before I'd lose it or misplace it. I want to be counted.
I have used census data from the 19th and 20th century in my genealogy projects. It turns up some interesting facts: children that you didn't know existed (and probably died), relatives that moved to a town for a short while, or off to parts unknown. It tells a story of where a person was every ten years from birth to death.
I got to thinking about my own "footprint" on this Earth. Since I am a zero baby born in 1960 (we won't discuss the unpleasant event that's coming up this summer), it got me thinking where I was on each of those census years.
And he looks back and lists where he was in each of those years. Then he asks the interesting question:
How about you? What's your census footprint? Where where you on those zero years?
It's no secret that my own life has taken some *ahem* interesting turns. My own census footprint?
1960: A toddler, living with the Princess Mom and Darling Daddy in Parma Heights, Ohio. Beloved Brother was a year away from becoming more than just a twinkle in their eyes.
1970: An awkward 7th grader, living with the Princess Mom, Darling Daddy, Beloved Brother and Baby Sister and couple of Guinea Pigs at 1176 Londonberry Lane, Glen Ellyn, Illinois.
1980: Pregnant and not a clue how to fix things but really good at keeping my own secret, Zeta Tau Alpha house, Western Illinois University, Macomb, IL. Shelby, my Shepherd/Lab mix was also knocked up. Scaryville.
1990: Newly divorced, licking my wounds, saving my money and living with Darling Daddy, the Princess Mom and Scottish Terrier Besquith's Bonnie Beth at 933 E. Bailey Road, Naperville, Illlinois.
2000: Still happily divorced, living with my clowder of Devon Rex in my own condo at 6251 E. Sheridan Road, Chicago, Illinois.
2010: At peace, pet-less (unless you count the dust bunnies), living in my own apartment in Des Plaines, Illinois and thinking about moving back into Chicago. My daughter has been in my life since December of 2006 and I'm on the cusp of becoming a Nana for the first time. Life is good.
Elisson shows his census footprint here. What's yours? _____
Update: My daughter reminds me that she is a zero baby, and she's about to have a zero baby of her own!
I have been sick at heart for days over this story:
The video shows a Metra express train approaching the North Chicago station in a light morning fog as several people dart across the tracks. The horn is still blaring as Blanca Villanueva-Sanchez jogs across cradling her goddaughter.
Then Villanueva-Sanchez and the baby fall from view.
You know, sometimes you need to have it graphically clear why you need to obey railroad crossing signals. Go here and watch the whole sickening thing. Show it to your children. Show it to anyone you know who has ever run across a track in front of an oncoming train because they were afraid of being late.
If you insist on being recklessly stupid, at least don't involve a child -- not your own, and especially not somebody else's child.
I know I harp on this a lot, but, as the video above illustrates, it's never enough. Being a little bit late -- even being a lot late -- is not worth the risk. In this case, two families will never, ever be the same.
Right. I believe I'll see snow. But I'm skeptical about Martin being close to finishing ADWD. His last update to the book said he was close back in January of 2008. He's managed to get several other books published in the meantime, just not the Fire & Ice book I'm so damned anxious to get in my hot little hands. (Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!! He lives to toy with my patience...)
I play in a band, we're the best in the land We're big in both Chelsea and France I play one mean guitar and then score at the bar There's a line of chicks waiting for their chance So come on now honey, I'll make you feel pretty These other gals mean nothing to me Let's finish these drinks and be gone for the night 'Cause I'm more than a handful, you'll see
[Chorus:] So kiss me, I'm shitfaced I'm soaked, I'm soiled and brown in the trousers, she kissed me And I only bought her one round
I can bench press a car, I'm an ex football star with degrees from both Harvard and Yale Girls just can't keep up, I'm a real love machine I've had far better sex while in jail I've designed the Sears Tower, I make two grand an hour I cook the world's best duck flambe I'll take the pick of the litter, girls jockey for me I don't need these lines to get laid
[Chorus]
I'm a man of the night, a real ladies delight See my figure was chiseled from stone One more for the gal then I'll escort her home Come last call, I'm never alone I've a house on the hill with a red water bed That puts Hugh Heffnor's mansion to shame With girls by the pool and Italian sports cars I'm just here in this dump for the game
[Chorus x2]
Ahh, fuck it. Who am I shitting?
I'm a pitiful sight, and I ain't all that bright I'm definitely not chiseled from stone I'm a cheat and a liar, no woman's desire I'll probably die cold and alone
But just give me a chance, 'cause deep down inside I swear I got a big heart of gold I'm a monogamous man, no more one night stands Come on, honey, let me take you home
Ladies and Gentlemen (*cough* *cough*) of the ISU, get off your high horses and give the girl some room to grieve... and to do this tribute as a part of the grief process. _____
(This is the second time the NY Times has picked up my silly site meter posts, born of my amazement at where people are coming from to visit this blog, so I might as well make them interesting and informative for people besides myself!)
Well how's about that? Great Reader KIM Jong IL popped up to inflorm one and arh that Jihad Gene is still bidgee instarring blamboo flowing for the ruvly Kim.
"It's Friday! Let's Dance!" And let's do it to the Blamboo Bloogie for my pal:
Now... what's shaking your tiki today?
Billy Sweetfeets Gingersnap Norton is bopping to Monkey Farts.
Remember The Choo-Choo? Seems Vince Vaughn was shooting there a couple of nights ago... just a wee three blocks from the Depot de Omnibus. I'd get all excited about that, but he always looks like he could use a shower, a shave and a good night's sleep... and that's never been my cup of tea.
Ah, well... _____
Received from my dear buddy Mr. Bill, this made me howl because I actually own and rely on a talking alarm clock... but not like this one:
After closing time at the bar, a drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends.
He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.
“What's up with the big brass gong?” one of his guests asked.
“It's not a gong - it's a talking clock,” the drunk replied.
“A talking clock? Seriously?” asked his astonished friend.
“Yup,” replied the drunk.
“How's it work?” the friend asked, squinting at it.
“Watch,” the drunk replied.
He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound and stepped back.
The three stood looking at one another for a moment.
Suddenly someone on the other side of the wall screamed, "You asshole! It's three-fifteen in the morning!”
Here are March's reads:
