The sunset tonight was pink for twenty seconds, and then it dissolved into orange and blue. I know because I was outside — paying attention for once — my old softball glove on one hand and one of those pitted practice softballs in the other, readying to hurl it toward my brother, who was intent on hitting it over the bales of hay far behind me and into the pasture. He never did hit it…
I want to take it out behind a middle school and get it pregnant. I was just lamenting last night to Ay that I haven’t been to a single cookout this year, and just now my dad calls me to tell me that he’s loading up the truck with fifty pounts of ground beef, ten chickens, and two hogs*, but that I may need to pick up hot dogs on my way to Saltillo. Along…
Behold! Video in which B.Dill talks on the phone — from my apartment in Memphis — with his friends in New York who are (er, were) doing a live streaming webcast art project in which they held various conversations for 24 hours. Extremely meta from Lindsey Turner on Vimeo. Whoa.
[Scene: Walking through the courtyard into work, passing someone leaving the building.] Cheery co-worker: Hi, how are you?Me, smiling: Good, how are you?Cheery co-worker: Beautiful day!Me, smiling: You too!
I’ve been eyeing my bathroom soap for weeks now, wondering why the hell the manufacturers opted to prominently include the soap’s PH balance on the bottle. Almost like it might sway some frantic soap-buyer to pick Select Brand over some other generic crap — let’s see, they both come in cucumber melon, but Select Brand’s soap has a PH balance of 5.5!!!. I kept trying to come up with more useful things the bottle designers…
This song is my ringtone: This is the song I wanted but couldn’t get: Okay, carry on with your regularly scheduled lives.
This time last year I was recovering from foot surgery. The doctor’s bandaging was bothering me something fierce, so I had my mom, a nurse, re-wrap it. She infused the fresh wrapping with extra mommy goodness and it felt great. Well, better. In the year since this photo was taken, my mom’s hands have grown increasingly useless to her. She’s got carpal tunnel syndrome, and has had bouts with its symptoms that were so bad…
Well, just a new feature I found on a toy I’ve had for a month now. I was at my friend Ay’s house the other night — you might remember her as my samesexheterodate from a couple of weeks back (let’s just say we hit if off so well we skipped from first base to sliding into third by getting shooed out of the P&H for heckling open-mic comedians) — when she showed me the…
It might look like this: Click to enlargify. HT: Pajiba
Miraculously, they look and feel just like they do the day I bought them. I think perhaps we can credit genetic engineering. Still, I’m afraid to crack them open for the fear that it will be nothing but a maggot metropolis. So, they sit.
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