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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2003-06-24 ... 2:55 p.m.


Hey Uniball Vision Exact pens. I like you, but today I was chewing on one of your brethren, a sexy and smashingly hot-pink fine-tip, and suddenly I found that the little plastic end-piece was in my mouth. If I knew you had a tendency to come apart like that, I might chew on you more gently,* because being found in my office dead and blue as a result of pen-cap asphyxiation is a fairly embarrassing office death. But not as embarrassing as being found hanged in a closet wearing stockings and garters, which seems to be a favorite cause of death for Tory MPs. Hardly news anymore, just as it is hardly news anymore when some fundamentalist Bible-thumping TV preacher is found to be cheating on his wife. Much more interesting, although I cannot find it confirmed online, was something I read once, which was that Jim Bakker, of Jim-and-Tammy-Faye fame, had a series of nervous breakdowns (long before the infidelity and financial scandals broke) and once stayed in bed for several months drinking heavy cream. That unconfirmed factoid has always stayed with me, against my will, like bright yellow vs. runny brown mustard, or the thong being like a little subway car.

(Oh dear. Pen cap choking, auto-erotic asphyxiation, heavy cream, and underwear. Taken together, are these items proof that I have had several cups of tea? Part of a rockin' scavenger-hunt list? Ingredients for some amateur erotic fiction? The worst Christmas ever?)

*Not chewing at all, of course, is not an option. I am part termite.

Nudists irritate me. People CAN get nude without getting lewd, but much of the point is lost. Naked volleyball and naked camping seem uncomfortable (sunburn, poison ivy, dirt, thorns) and silly. Call me a hedonist, but if I get naked something fun, adult-oriented, and yes, hopefully lewd is about to take place. Unless I am just showering.

They look pretty crabby. Maybe they need a drink.

"On manipulation the mass of about 15 cm x 12 cm x 12 cm size came out of the vagina and it happended [sic] to be a brick." Oh, it happened to be a brick! Well, our work here is done.

The best part about this medical abstract is the title.

Quicktime movies of spiders preparing to GET IT ON!

I have to thank my friend who recommended Snake N' Bacon, and I have to second the recommendation. Maybe it was just the mood I was in, but the more surreal and repetitive the jokes got, the more I liked them. I like the way it is inked, too, and sometimes it is nice to read a collection of funny funnies rather than some ambitious "graphic novel." (I guess that is an accepted-enough term not to require scare quotes. Sorry.)

Yesterday I was all tired when I got home from work, but then LT and I rode our bikes down to Berwyn and Broadway, split a small feta-onion-kalamata olive pizza at Pizzeria Aroma (which LT likes to call "Pizza Smell"), and rode back. It was only about 3.5 miles total, but it did something to me. Woke me up, cheered me up, something. I took a bubble bath to wash off the road grime and then walked around making muscles the rest of the evening, and I told LT, "I feel like the Jolly Green Giant." I had not been on a bike in years: one small ride later and I think I am Lance Armstrong, making over-optimistic plans to ride to work (eleven miles one way) or down to one of my favorite coffeeshops for tea and scribbling (a more realistic eight miles one way, or maybe a little more since I am a scaredy-cat about traffic and tend to jog around on side streets). Yay for my tiny purple mountain bike. Yay for feeling fast and strong. I am still kind of clueless about shifting gears, and I tend to stay in one (semi-high) gear the entire ride, but yay anyway. I would like to attach springy antennae to my helmet.


This is kind of embarrassing, but simultaneously kind of cool. Earlier this year I was contacted by someone insanely groovy, who has ties to Chicago Public Radio and occasionally does a little thing where she asks "Chicago writers" to read their stuff on the radio. So I did. And it was all kinds of fun. Seriously, if anyone wants to pay me just to write stupid things and then read them on the radio, I would be happy to ditch this editing thing and change careers. "My" show finally aired, this morning, and I think by tomorrow it should be archived and you can listen to it online, should you so desire. Here is the link. I think you can listen to just the Smartypants part, if you are pressed for time, but I recommend enjoying the whole thing. Fair warning: it is only online stuff that you have read before, and I sound like a dorkalicious dork-u-tron (does anyone really like the sound of their own voice?), but if you had been longing for the Voice Of Mimi here is your chance. (You cute little stalker, you!) If you are in Chicago and have excellent hearing, now you can hang out at bars and listen for me.

---mimi smartypants spins you right round baby right round.


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