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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

2001-03-16 ... 19:17:02

Are we through talking about Eminem yet? I hope so. I just don't find his rap interesting enough to merit pages of editorials. What an idiot. Also, from the little I've heard, in the context of rapping about gay men and how he doesn't like them, he seems to rap a lot about how tight his own asshole is and how those gay men had better not get any ideas about trying to mess with him. In my experience, straight men (or gay men, actually, come to think of it) do not ordinarily go on and on about the tightness of their assholes. Perhaps Eminem protests a bit too much?

In much better music-related news, I heard through an e-mail list that Corin Tucker of Sleater-Kinney had her baby and named it (him. not it. I've got to stop doing that, I always seem to refer to babies as "it") Marshall, after her amp. Awwww.

Let's just roll with this music thread for a while. Everyone should stop what they are doing and listen to Q and Not U. I am now hooked. Also, Big Black was a very very good band. I liked them all right as a punk child, but on every re-listen I realize how scarily good and innovative they were.

Yesterday I saw a sign in front of a liquor store that advertised Boone's Farm wine, 2 bottles for $4. It is good to know that kids can still get wasted for cheap.

(The connection there was "punk child," which led to thoughts of what children/teenagers drink, which is often as not disgusting sweet wine that will make you puke in bright colors. Are you still with me?)

OK, now a story with the theme of "intoxicants." And it is vaguely Easter-related, so it's timely. The sister of a friend of mine (yes, I know it sounds like many an urban legend) once got severely fucked up on marshmallow Peeps. You know, those yellow stale things shaped like baby ducks? I always thought that no one really ate those, but she loved them. And for Easter one year her mom sent her a whole case of Peeps. Which is not just one box of a dozen, but 12 boxes of a dozen. So one night she's working/surfing/whatever on her computer, way past midnight, and she's bingeing on the Peeps. She conservatively estimates that she ate about 8 of the 12 boxes, which would be around 96 Peeps, over the course of a few hours. She started feeling really weird, tingly fingertips, difficulty breathing, chest pain, and blurry vision, and is all alone so she's freaking out, and it just gets worse, so she calls 911 for herself, and the paramedics come and they are being all rude and Chicago and in her face yelling "What did you take?" and she can only gesture weakly toward the Peeps.

It turned out that she was allergic to the yellow dye (hell, who wouldn't be in those quantities), so in a sense she really did OD on marshmallow Peeps. I'm sure it was very scary at the time, but now it just makes me laugh whenever my friend tells the story.

So be careful with those things, for god's sakes. Maybe you should just stick to beer. (Or Boone's Farm, for the younger kids.) You could nestle a six-pack in some Easter grass and it would make a lovely presentation.

---mimi smartypants


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