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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

2004-02-19 ... 1:36 p.m.

I think Jack Black should battle Jack White on some kind of pay-per-view event. Or how about Conrad Black vs Curtis White? That might be even funnier, and certainly a lot more ideology would be riding on the outcome.

Although I usually wear black, and I check the box marked "white," I do not plan to battle anyone on Saturday. In some ways it would be cool if the reading were structured like a freestyle battle. A literal battle would not be cool at all, because I would lose badly---I have never met most of the other readers and have no idea how burly they are, but I know that I come up to about Louisa's knee. I still have only a very vague idea of what I am going to read, but probably stuff from 2003, and nothing from the book because that shit be old by now, yo. Besides, it would make me feel like a dork to arrive at a weblog reading with my hardcover book in hand, as if I were some sort of Author. Also, there will be props, and I plan to bring plenty of beer. If you have five bucks to spare, come say hi to me.

This week at work has been full of meetings. I barely have any time to sit at my desk and edit, drinking tea and chomping on gummi army guys. (Frankly, they are not as tasty as gummi worms, but I like staging the battles, and taking bites, and yelling, "AHHHH! MEDIC!" and "WHERE'S THE REST OF ME?" Okay, not the out-loud yelling, at least not at work.) Yesterday's meeting was one of those gigantic multiple-department things, run by one of our vice-presidents, and right before it started a coworker said, "I ran into him in the cafeteria today. His arms are really short."

"What do you mean, his arms are really short?" I asked. She replied that she meant exactly that: the vice-president's arms are proportionally too short for his body, and I said oh great, now I won't be able to stop looking at his arms. For the rest of my tenure here, every time I see this man striding around in his power suit, I am going to be thinking, "Hey, there goes Flipper." I sat next to the short-arm-information girl at the meeting and sure enough, we were both all tranced out on the vice-president's stubby little arms, and I kept her close to giggles for almost a full hour by periodically sticking my elbows next to my body and flapping the resulting deformed-looking appendages. Then, karmically, it was my turn to be on the edge of hysteria, during a series of PowerPoint graphs that showed rising amounts of money on the y-axis, and time on the x-axis. Whoever made this graph thought it necessary to put a big upward arrow, in the direction of more money, and label it with the all-caps word GOOD. More money good! Hulk smash! I don't know why repeatedly seeing that GOOD arrow cracked me up, but it really did.

Swallow what you're drinking and then view this inexplicable sweater-related site, complete with unhappy model in metallic gold spandex pants. I am not doing it justice, seriously, go there now.

Weekend Records and Soap is closing, boo. Sunday is the last day.

I would type more but I am all worn out from my sojourn to Bed, Bath, and BEYOND! It has the most heroic name of any home-accessories store in the world. LT and I are tired of stepping on Duplos,* so I went to buy some sort of basket or bucket to contain the living-room toys, and the added bonus of this purchase is that "putting things in a basket and then dumping them out again" is one of Nora's favorite activities. This floor-to-ceiling domestic wonderland of BB and B is a bit wearying, and I was further disoriented by the radio station they were playing. Is there a new station that promises "All The Terrible Power Ballads Of The 1980s, All The Time"? My errand took me through Jefferson Starship, Styx, Night Ranger, Toto, and many others and now I don't feel so well. I suppose every rose has its thorn. (Help! I've been brainwashed!)

*By Googling "Duplos" I found these lovely creative writing samples from children. Make sure you read the story about the guy on the Oregon Trail.

Other things I learned during lunch today: (1) Jewel's self-checkout counters do not verify your liquor purchase in any way whatsoever---the robot voice sternly told me "VERIFICATION NEEDED" but I just kept on keeping on with my purchase, put tonight's wine in the bag, and the robot voice soon gave up. Take note, all you underage drinkers. (2) A vanity license plate reading PUS N BTS will not make me think "Puss In Boots," as Mr. Mercedes Driver probably intended, but will instead make me all quizzical and nauseated---Pus? Butts? What are you getting at, dude? Please don't tell me you have some kind of infected-ass fetish.

---mimi smartypants socked it to you.


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