TREACHERY IN THE HINTERLANDS
Those bastards!
Thursday, November 20, 2003
TOO BAD THE BOOKER'S ALREADY BEEN ANNOUNCED...
The newest installation in the nightmare collaborative novel I'm "writing" with a couple of friends, penned by yours truly (or, at least, by the half-dozen monkeys we keep locked up in the basement with a crash-prone Megtron(tm) PC and a copy of Xywrite) is now online.
In true post-modern blog style, the most recent installment's at the top, meaning you need to read from the bottom of the page up for it to make any sense. Except, of course, that it still won't.
The newest installation in the nightmare collaborative novel I'm "writing" with a couple of friends, penned by yours truly (or, at least, by the half-dozen monkeys we keep locked up in the basement with a crash-prone Megtron(tm) PC and a copy of Xywrite) is now online.
In true post-modern blog style, the most recent installment's at the top, meaning you need to read from the bottom of the page up for it to make any sense. Except, of course, that it still won't.
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
GUESS THE BLIND PEDESTRIAN PLAYKIT'S BEEN DISCONTINUED
I realize this makes me a callous, uncaring parent, but the names of these toys always make me laugh.
Hard to believe that a periscope could cause eye injuries. Or that toy nunchucks could cause "blunt impact." But mostly, I feel sorry for poor Ribbets.
I realize this makes me a callous, uncaring parent, but the names of these toys always make me laugh.
Hard to believe that a periscope could cause eye injuries. Or that toy nunchucks could cause "blunt impact." But mostly, I feel sorry for poor Ribbets.
Monday, November 17, 2003
Friday, November 07, 2003
METRO FOR RED-STATERS
One of the gazillion associations in the DC area has written a painfully retentive guide to the metro. "After one trip, you'll be a pro!" the breathless copy reads. Especially helpful -- the detailed instructions for purchasing a farecard, and I quote: "1. Put your money in the slot."
The only thing they forgot to add was not to get scared when the train goes under the Potomac, since it doesn't get wet. (I once worked at a newspaper where the publisher didn't quite grasp the concept of a subway, but that's another story for another day.) All I know, if I was thinking about coming to DC from the distant hinterlands, the level of complexity this suggests would have me out on the shoulder of 395, hitchhiking.
(Shout-out to DCSOB for pointing this one out.)
One of the gazillion associations in the DC area has written a painfully retentive guide to the metro. "After one trip, you'll be a pro!" the breathless copy reads. Especially helpful -- the detailed instructions for purchasing a farecard, and I quote: "1. Put your money in the slot."
The only thing they forgot to add was not to get scared when the train goes under the Potomac, since it doesn't get wet. (I once worked at a newspaper where the publisher didn't quite grasp the concept of a subway, but that's another story for another day.) All I know, if I was thinking about coming to DC from the distant hinterlands, the level of complexity this suggests would have me out on the shoulder of 395, hitchhiking.
(Shout-out to DCSOB for pointing this one out.)
Thursday, November 06, 2003
THE SMOKING GUN
I spent a few years living in Germany during my teenage years -- a few years which just happened to fall during the mid-1980s, so I missed quite a few cultural milestones. MTV? We'd occasionally get a videotape someone would bring back from the states, which would make the rounds of my friends until we had the 2 hours of music memorized*. Cabbage Patch Kids? Luckily, I missed that one until recently, when one of my daughters was given a vintage one by a great-grandmother. Smurfs? Well... actually, they came from Germany, though they were called something like "Schlumphs," which is precariously close to an unflattering German term for a young woman of questionable virtue.
But I digress. When I returned to the states, I had a lot of catching up to do, culturally. And one of the things I never quite got was the TV show Alf, which came and went while I was overseas. Allegedly. I summarily refused to believe that a sitcom starring a stuffed furry alien could possibly have become a prime-time hit, even in the 1980s. And yes, I had seen Knight Rider. It was huge in Germany. In fact, I accused many stateside friends of being part of a conspiracy to convince me that Alf was real, then chuckling at my gullible self behind my back. Even years later, I was never quite convinced.
Flash forward two decades. While visiting the in-laws last weekend, we stumbled upon this.
I'm through the looking glass, sadder and a bit wiser. Sadder, mainly, as had my kids not gleefully colored all over the sucker, I could have made a fortune on eBay.
(*) Back in the day, MTV aired short-form movies that were intentionally synchronized with popular songs of the time, called (I believe) "music videos."
I spent a few years living in Germany during my teenage years -- a few years which just happened to fall during the mid-1980s, so I missed quite a few cultural milestones. MTV? We'd occasionally get a videotape someone would bring back from the states, which would make the rounds of my friends until we had the 2 hours of music memorized*. Cabbage Patch Kids? Luckily, I missed that one until recently, when one of my daughters was given a vintage one by a great-grandmother. Smurfs? Well... actually, they came from Germany, though they were called something like "Schlumphs," which is precariously close to an unflattering German term for a young woman of questionable virtue.
But I digress. When I returned to the states, I had a lot of catching up to do, culturally. And one of the things I never quite got was the TV show Alf, which came and went while I was overseas. Allegedly. I summarily refused to believe that a sitcom starring a stuffed furry alien could possibly have become a prime-time hit, even in the 1980s. And yes, I had seen Knight Rider. It was huge in Germany. In fact, I accused many stateside friends of being part of a conspiracy to convince me that Alf was real, then chuckling at my gullible self behind my back. Even years later, I was never quite convinced.
Flash forward two decades. While visiting the in-laws last weekend, we stumbled upon this.
I'm through the looking glass, sadder and a bit wiser. Sadder, mainly, as had my kids not gleefully colored all over the sucker, I could have made a fortune on eBay.
(*) Back in the day, MTV aired short-form movies that were intentionally synchronized with popular songs of the time, called (I believe) "music videos."
Wednesday, November 05, 2003
THIS COULD BE ME...
Apparently this is where some journalists wind up during these trying economic times.
It certainly has a lot more panache than the Maytag box I've been eyeing of late...
Apparently this is where some journalists wind up during these trying economic times.
It certainly has a lot more panache than the Maytag box I've been eyeing of late...
Tuesday, November 04, 2003
THIS JUST IN...
... I have no life. I scored a 109.5 on this test. Pity me.
The most embarassing part, aside from the fact that I precisely remember the lyrics to a freakin' Toto song from two decades ago but can't recall what I had for breakfast this morning? I identified lots of songs generated by hair bands. Bad hair bands...
... I have no life. I scored a 109.5 on this test. Pity me.
The most embarassing part, aside from the fact that I precisely remember the lyrics to a freakin' Toto song from two decades ago but can't recall what I had for breakfast this morning? I identified lots of songs generated by hair bands. Bad hair bands...
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