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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

2004-10-27 ... 2:52 p.m.


1. We had a fire drill at work, and people walked SO SLOWLY in the stairwell that it drove me batty. Yes, it is just a drill, but can we strive for a little verisimilitude? CAN WE PLEASE STRIVE FOR A LITTLE VERISIMILITUDE? That would have been fun to scream out in the stairwell, too bad I didn't think of it earlier.

2. LT went out to get the mail yesterday and encountered a little old lady stealing our neighbor's newspaper. "Hey," said LT to the little old lady. "Can you put that back, please?" In a heavy Russian accent, the little old lady replied, "Yes, okay, no problem, thank you, sorry" and then took off down the street with the paper. There are limits to LT's sense of vigilante justice so he just watched her scurry away.

3. There are limits to LT's vigilantism, but there appear to be no limits to his etiquette quirks. I consider myself to be more observant of social graces than most, but he takes the proverbial cake. Just recently I was quietly bitching to myself about how some people on a crowded El train will refuse to sit down in an open seat, because apparently they will be getting off soon and they want the freedom and mobility of dashing out the door without the burden of raising themselves from a seated position first, even if sitting down in that seat would do us all a huge favor by clearing up some standing space. Then a few weeks later I end up riding the train home with LT, and as we headed further north and people got off, a seat opened up directly in front of where we were standing. I sat in it, because I am a delicate flower. More people got off, and soon the train was relatively empty except for a woman standing and reading at the far end of the train car. LT remained standing.

"You should sit," I told him.
"No, that's okay," he said.
I got curious about why he would not sit. He was embarrassed to tell me, but eventually it came out that he felt it was wrong for him to sit when a woman, who was all the way at the other end of the train, was still standing. I pointed out the separate public-transit etiquette that trumped his charmingly antiquated male-female etiquette, namely that most people do not come charging all the way through train cars to sit down unless they are really tired or have a long way to go, and that the seat right in front of you, when vacated, becomes yours. The woman was all engrossed in her book and probably didn't even notice the available seat anyway. LT still wouldn't sit down. So I am married to a feminist man who nonetheless still stands up when introduced to women and firmly believes that their need to be seated takes precedence over his, no matter what the circumstances, which is slightly exasperating but more than a little cute.


This week it was our turn to bring "snack" to preschool. The snack is more symbolic than it is about actual nutrition, as even toddlers could probably handle a whole ninety minutes of gentle play and finger puppet rhymes without breaking for food. As the only dad involved in the preschool, LT was determined to make those Montessori moms respect his ass, and he refused to wimp out with goldfish crackers or some other slacker snack. Monday he brought an elaborate fruit salad, and Wednesday he took a pumpkin cookie cutter and made Halloween shapes out of deli cheese. Oh yeah! You got served! LT may be unshaven and slightly hungover, but when he gets you in the Parenting Smackdown ring you are going to be crying for your mama! In a manner of speaking!

Okay, so preschool snacktime is not really a competition, and it is a sad commentary that at-home dads ever get the fish eye in the first place, but still. I am proud of him.

5. Despite having owned it for over a year now, I am still unfamiliar with all the features of my "new" cell phone. Just the other day I found out that it has a stopwatch function. Why? I DO NOT KNOW. I guess we could have a simultaneous long-distance foot race and then I could call you and say, "I won!" Or I could use the stopwatch for science, as I did just today! Everyone has heard the story that elevator "Door Close" buttons do not really work, and are only there to make impatient types feel like they are doing something. Well I and my cell-phone stopwatch are here to say: BULLSHIT. Of course I can only speak for my own office building, but holding down "Door Close" shaves almost a FULL SECOND off of the elevator trip. You losers can stop and smell the roses all you like, but I am going up! Or going down! And I will get there nearly a second before you do.

6. Nora has been doing a lot of fake-counting lately. She has the cadence right, but she just says "one, one, one, one, one" over and over again as she identifies each item. It is all very Zen. There is only one.

7. Last night I got brave and went to the "casual encounters" area of Craigslist, and clicked on all the ones with pictures in order to see the penises. Seeing penises out of context like that either makes me scream a tiny mental scream at how weird the penis is, or else I just start laughing. I am certain that is not the response the posters were going for, but there is something comical about a photograph of a man holding his penis out for the camera like a puppet. Hello! This here is my penis!

The penis-holding photographs never feature the penis-owner's head or face, which is odd. Maybe it is because we are supposed to be focusing on the penis, and the poster does not want us distracted from it. Or maybe it is because there is simply no way not to make a goofy face while clutching your penis for the camera.


I had a Google-search referral the other day for how can I get animals to fuck me? Although no expert on bestiality, I feel compelled to point out that, with animals, it's really more about fucking them than getting them to fuck you. It is not like you can just act all coy and wear provocative clothing and hope the goat makes the first move. I am just saying.

9. I am the last person on the planet to have heard about this, but gosh does it make me happy. More balloons! I am keeping the transcript up in my office to read whenever I feel a little down.

10. The world's most violent alcoholic was on my bus yesterday. I know that he was the world's most violent alcoholic not because of his actions, but because that's what he kept telling people. I wonder where that contest was held? Who would be brave enough to judge such a thing?

---mimi smartypants was a documentary, and the events happened in real time.


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