I love Memphis
Because of hijinks like this: (Via Lesley)
I’m not sure there’s anything funnier than watching cats try to catch and hold a ping-pong ball. On hardwood floors. Obviously I need a new video camera. (And a life!)
Because he writes stuff like this: Next time you hear some particularly moralizing speech, set your watch. You won’t have to wait long before the man who made it is found, crouched awkwardly yet ecstatically while the cistern drips and the roar of the flush maddens him like wine. Bloody brilliant.
[for Wednesday, Aug. 15] This image comes from The Male Mystique, this awesome book Sarah brought me when she came to visit last weekend. It’s chock full (whoops, almost typed “cock full,” hyuk) of these cheesy-ass ads from the ’60s and ’70s that could have served, as Sarah observed, as a general character composite for Ron Burgundy. (Parenthetically, this seems to me to be a perfect illustration of the technique used by Mystery, “The Pick-Up…
Seen today on the twelve o’clock news: A placard teasing the upcoming stories, in this order: • Paris Hilton • Breastfeeding • Scrap Metal
Or, as Amanda might say, I want to take this show out behind the middle school and get it pregnant.
[for July 6] Forgot my real camera. Forgot to take a real picture. So here’s a lovely crapphone view of my desk at work. I’ll let you guess what’s going on in that picture on my computer. See, Lesley had to come into town and distract me with lunch at the Pizza Cafe (which I lurve despite my general wishy-washiness toward pizza) and tales of her mother and her mother’s crazy cats; crazy garden-destroying wildlife;…
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