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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

2002-01-19 ... 12:18 p.m.

Google reveals the deepest truths yet again. Mimi Smartypants has all the answers: how can I masturbate creatively? MY SITE IS NUMBER 4.

It pleases me to know that you people are not just content to masturbate the same old way each time. You are doing research. You are pushing the envelope of whacking off. You are opening the doors of perception, you are unleashing the right side of your brain, you are striving to differentiate yourself from the gray flannel suits of masturbation with original, ingenious, innovative monkey-spanking. Godspeed, comrade. Let your freak flag fly.

LT and I were supposed to have the plumber here to finish the rather surprisingly complex installation of the garbage disposal, and he's late (the plumber), and we're thinking, "We got up early on a Saturday and got dressed for a plumber, now where's the goddamn plumber?" So we call, and the dispatcher lady informs us that less than an hour ago the plumber fell and broke his arm and is on his way to the hospital right now. Oh. I feel strangely guilty for being annoyed, like I should send this plumber some flowers or something. There must be a special "Sorry You Broke Your Arm, Mr Plumber I've Never Met, Although My Husband Bonded With You Over the NFL and our Crazy Ancient 1920s Pipes" bouquet you can buy online. I shall check.

There's a place in Minnesota called New Ulm, and they have a glockenspiel that plays three times a day. Show of hands: who wants to road trip with me to New Ulm? I'll kiss you under the glockenspiel. We can say "glockenspiel" to each other all the way there. To see other exciting glockenspiels from around the world, select from the list below.

I always joke that all the cabbies live in my neighborhood (cosmopolitan multi-ethnic Devon Ave being what it is), but last night's cabbie really did live in my neighborhood. I'm warmly and toastily and comfortably ensconced in the back of the taxi last night at 3 am (why are you not surprised), and without any prompting from me he takes a very sensible route, and then once we get in my neighborhood I'm trying to guide him through the side streets and I say, "Right here is good, this is my alley" and he says, "This is my alley too. I live right there" as in, next door. So I got to meet a neighbor in a strange serendipitous way. Glad to know you, Amer!

Symptoms of low blood sugar: when you spend a good twenty minutes reading different glockenspiel pages online. I think I'm going to (boldly) go in search of food.

---mimispiel smartyglocken


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