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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

2002-05-01 ... 3:40 p.m.


1. Yodel me once, yodel me twice: I am encouraged/alarmed by the overwhelming---nay, clamorous---outpouring of e-mail support for me to wear a fancy red cowgirl outfit.

2. Also via e-mail: a spam-sender is offering me 72 hours of free unlimited psychic advice. I say you and I snort a bunch of speed, stay up, and totally take advantage of this. Another, unrelated spam-sender took today as an opportunity to tell (or is it warn?) me of the WORLD'S LARGEST COCKS. I didn't click and find out if they were limiting that to human cocks or if the whale penis (ten feet long, one foot in diameter---such are the useless facts cluttering up my brain)---is also included.

[penis museum!]

3. The Weather Words have been kind of lackluster lately (oooh, lackluster. That would be a great weather word), but today makes up for it with TEMPESTUOUS. Oh Heathcliff!

4. Today is May Day, the holiday of working stiffs like you and me! Not the holiday of movie stars! Not the holiday of Jack Welch or Bill Gates or Dick Cheney or Martha Stewart or Conrad Black! Not the holiday of fat steel barons with silk top hats and cutaway coats and dollar signs on their lapels! (Oh, wait. I think I'm getting my modern-day capitalists all confused with those from 1930s political cartoons again.) If you are new to May Day, this is nice and pithy. Put on your Mao suit and let's get down to the funky sounds of international worker solidarity. (Speaking of "funky" and "international worker solidarity," the lyrics to James Brown's "Funky President" are just perfect for today. Too bad I don't have a radio show anymore.)


I sort of sympathize. My neighborhood too is overrun with ice cream trucks, and in the summer they are either lingering in the street and driving me bananas or kind of zooming around and producing that weird Doppler effect. But what kind of name is "Hyacinth Yennie"? "Wilbur Troutman" is funny too. (OK, Mimi, that was uncalled for. Be nice.)

Oh good LORD. Color me astonished.

At this very nice web page, you can post what you ate for lunch, in case your friends are all sick of hearing what you ate for lunch. But why would you have friends like that? Fuck your friends if they can't take the details. (Also, that boxy-head guy is just about the cutest thing I've seen all day.)


Recently I had the truly weird experience of going in my purse for money and coming up with Indian rupees. I guess I hadn't used that bag since India. The incident reminded me of how drab US currency is.

Peeing absolutely has to be the last thing I do before I sleep. I'll be reading in bed, and I won't even have to go, but before turning out the light and getting serious about trying to sleep I will have to get up and at least make the token appearance at the facilities. It's like I have some sort of horizontal sensor for urine, and I have to trick it into shutting off.

More urinary ruminations: Some overachiever posted a sign in one of the office bathrooms exhorting people to keep the bathroom clean. To me, the office bathroom is certainly clean enough, but then again I go to a lot of rock shows and have traveled to India, so maybe my standards of comparison are not universal. Anyway, one of the bullet points on this sign (which included bathroom-related clip art and everything: someone around here has a great future in excretory graphic design!) was worded like this: PLEASE WIPE THE TOILET SEAT IF YOU SPILL ON IT. Which I think should be changed to either DON'T PEE ON THE SEAT or PLEASE WIPE THE SEAT IF YOU PEE ON IT or something like that, take your pick, but the word "spill" is definitely a poor choice, unless you are carrying an amphora of urine around.

---mimi smartypants loves her llama and her llama loves her back.


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