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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

2001-10-10 ... 5:30 p.m.

Mimi Smartypants' Fundamental Truth About Beer #59: Most non-European beer (Greek, Egyptian, Indian) pretty much tastes like Miller High Life.

OK, switching gears:


Good, unexpected thing about Italian class #1: The rare opportunity to be downtown at night, in the early-fall wind and no moon. Cityfront Plaza is right between the Wrigley Building and NBC Tower, and as I waited for the bus the other night Chicago just seemed so fucking beautiful that I felt wings in my brain. I feel so fluttery and hyperaware and in love with the world lately, like a small tactile animal, and I'm strangely pleased to be on this planet.

But since I'm also a creature of contrasts I realize that this feeling is in some ways a childishly poetic sentiment, and where do I get off acting like some K-Mart Walt Whitman running around in awe of everything, and don't I know there's a war on? And were the neurochemical tide to turn on this hypomania I know I'd be sitting here griping about how rotten and unpleasant the universe is, and how the city's relentless concrete and manufactured ugliness make me want to puke, and how people are inherently evil and have learned exactly nothing from thousands and thousands of years of human history. Someday I hope to be able to entertain both these sentiments at once, and not be flopped back and forth like a pancake between the two.

(Note to self: Never, ever, employ "pancake" as a simile again. We'll let it slide this time.)

Good, unexpected thing about Italian class #2: We learned how to say "Waiter, please bring me arugula without spiders." (It was a tongue twister designed to practice Italian r's.)

What the hell is this. These guys are going to be very embarrassed someday. Trust me. Ooooh, you're so scary, I'm scared! Help! Oh my, the scariness! Except not.

The Seattle Times has posted this unintentionally funny guide to turbans. I think they're trying to help in some way, but how? With racial profiling? It would have been cool if they had also included some helpful fashion advice. "Dear Seattle Times, I have a heart-shaped face. Which sort of turban would suit me best?"

Every time I hear the word "turban," I think of this bit from a long-ago Letterman episode.

And then of course there's the turban squash. I kind of want to buy one whenever I see them at the store, but what would I do with it? Wrap a bow around it and give it as a gift? (Not a bad idea, actually.)

Here I come, turban squash in hand, to your house.

---mimi smartypants


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