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12 September 2013 @ 09:17 am
How long do I have to listen to the alarm before it is justifiable to go outside and shoot my neighbor's car?
29 June 2012 @ 03:57 pm
Last night we finished series 1 of Downton Abbey. In my dream, Mrs. Hughes was frustrated because the glyptodon His Lordship had hired to replace Gwen (it happened to be on the lawn the morning she left) kept knocking over occasional tables with its tail while helping the other chambermaids. Soon after, Cutter and the team show up in their open roadster to corral the creature and return it home. Politeness ensues.
08 June 2011 @ 09:43 am
Yesterday morning, The Bunkie packed her own mid-morning snack for school, a baggie full of Marshmallow Froot Loops. I thought she'd packed a bit much, and offered to put some back. She agreed, but as I walked back to the kitchen, her voice followed me, "Don't put back any marshmallows, or I'll sue!"

I answered, "For what? 'Alienation of Confection'?"
Current Music: Patti Smith - Free Money | Powered by Last.fm
01 June 2011 @ 08:57 am
At the grocery store this weekend, I saw something new. On the Domino sugar bag, it said, "Now! Certified Carbon-Free!" I turned to the Bunkie and said, "I hope not!" She laughed, and said, "Sugar's made of carbon, right?"

I could only imagine a bag full of H! and OH! feeling all superior.
Short form: Neil Gaiman, one of my favorite writers, is called a "pencil-necked little weasel" by the Speaker of the Minnesota legislative house for taking a large speaking fee to give an hour's talk at a suburban library. Speaker Matt Dean's mother makes him apologize for name-calling.

Slightly longer form: Gaiman often speaks for free, but his "hire" rate is quite high so that he doesn't have to say "no" over and over when, really, he'd rather be writing. The suburban library had a pile of restricted funds that couldn't be used for anything but bringing out speakers, pretty much, so they paid his normal rate (after he made sure the money would just go to waste), he had a great time, they had a great time, and he donated the after-agent fees to charity (which, apparently, he does quite often, as he is no longer the starving writer he once was, but remembers it clearly). Dean is an idiot who doesn't have his facts straight.

Really long form: Just read Gaiman's blog. Still good prose.

Carry on.
22 December 2010 @ 10:42 am
SC was discussing her "Seekers" book, where the grizzly was thrown out of the den by its mother after its brother Toby died. Aelf said, yeah, that trope shows up a lot in fanfic. So I chimed in:

Sherlock: Mummy always did blame me for your death.
Mycroft: And I'm sure she'll be right.
Current Music: Glass Hammer - Something's Coming | Powered by Last.fm
18 November 2010 @ 07:55 pm
Aelf has dug herself into "Sherlock" fic, and has found the "Sherlock is a vampire, John is a werewolf" sub-genre. The other night she said she was waiting for Mrs. Hudson to turn out to be a ghost.

"Tea?" I said, in my best Mrs. Hudson voice.
19 October 2010 @ 08:39 pm
Cross-post from cycling comm: http://community.livejournal.com/cycling/449445.html
26 September 2010 @ 07:32 pm
If Darling Wife (that's Aelfgyfu) can do it, then so can I. She announced her frustration with yet another homonym fail; when I came up with the punchline, she said, "Why don't you write it?"

So here goes. White Collar, but you don't need to know anything.


"Moz." No surprise.


"Is Neal here?"

"I refuse to answer--"

"Yeah, I know. Never mind. If he comes in while I'm asleep, tell him I'm here." Peter headed for the bedroom, removing his jacket.

"Don't. And don't say I didn't warn you."

"It's just for a few hours." Tie, shirt, shoes.

"Your neck."

A creak, a sigh; ratcheting, followed by a heavy thump. "What the hell?"

"It's your own fault. You knew Neal had a discriminating pallet."


Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.
Current Music: John Coltrane - Blue Train (Alternate Take) | Powered by Last.fm
31 July 2010 @ 02:19 pm
I got home from a long ride (thirty-some miles) last week, rolled the bike in the front door, and Aelf stepped over for a kiss and then backed away. I dropped into Isaiah Mustafa's "Old Spice guy" voice, and said, "Ladies, does your man look like me? Of course not. But he can smell like me: just make him ride ninety minutes in hundred-degree heat!"
Current Music: Wynton Marsalis Septet - Citi Movement | Powered by Last.fm