Start celebrating, America!
About
I am Scylla the rock. At least on my good days.
Five and a half years of additional archives available here.
Meta
Following
Bookrest by Lars Nilsson
I’d need about 5 or 6 to combat the perpetual pile of books on my bedside table.
Nah, you just need a cat. Bob has decided that he now sleeps on my nightstand, and every night while I’m sleeping he does a sweep and knocks off everything except my lamp and my giant alarm clock (and only because those are too big and heavy for him to knock down). Books, glasses, cell phone, hairbands, watch—every morning lately, I end up blindly fumbling around on the floor trying to turn off my cell phone alarms.
In all seriousness, though, I’d kill for one of those.
Yeah, I’m totally one of those girls who gets warm fuzzies and funny feelings when she sees a grown man (in this case, the leader of the free world) playing peekaboo with an adorable child.
Time to step it up, Rahm! Barry’s playing for keeps.
THERE IS NO GOOD WAY TO LEARN TO DISMOUNT.
Pogo sticks are the kinds of presents you give to the children of people you don’t like.
It looks like, “Here, I’m so thoughtful I bought a charming days-of-yore gift for your precious six-year-old.”
Really, though, it’s, “Here, asshole. Have fun paying the bills for three consecutive concussions.”
I've Been Absent Like a Comp Student who Failed His First Essay (Zing!)
Re: my performance evaluation as a graduate teaching assistant…
“It sucked and then I cried.”
Actually, that pretty much describes this whole semester.
Don’t go to graduate school.
It sucks and then you cry.
(Many thanks to Dooce for my new life mantra.)
I’m grumbly. Sue me. I work eight hours a day seven days a week for ten grand a year. It wears on you.
Telling Jokes Drunk
“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Elbows.”
“Elbows who?”
“Elbows. … Wait. … I don’t think I understand this game.”
Midnight Mathematics OR Three Hours Sleep, What Do You Expect?
Riddle me this…
Not counting right-side-out versus inside out possibilities (since that doesn’t matter so much to me), there should theoretically be a 50-50 chance of me pulling my shirt on with all sides facing the appropriate direction were I to pick up a shirt and put it on without examining its orientation.
So what is it about 3am trips around the house (e.g. for glass of water, for bathroom break after glass of water, etc) and the blind grabbing and pulling on of a shirt that ensures 100% of the time I’ll pull it on backwards. Even when I grab a shirt, try to trick fate by acting like I’ll pull it on but spin it around at the last second and THEN pull it on: it’s still backwards.
Not that it stops me from taking said trips around the house but my shoulder blades are becoming self-conscious about not filling out the extra fabric. They’re thinking about what the average shoulder blade cup size might be while my throat is wondering what it did to deserve feeling like sandpaper AND being choked; it never did anything to Shirt; what the hell, Man.
Ahem…
DOOEY SLEEPS NAKED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I had to say it.
So exciting! I loves me some Jeremy Blake/Theresa Duncan intrigue. I used to read Wit of the Staircase back when Duncan was still alive.
I wonder how these two will do. I like Van Sant; not such a big fan of Ellis. Queen of the Hipsters made me read Less Than Zero in high school and I thought it was just dreadful.
I wonder if their families have approved the project. I wonder if it will be critical enough, especially of Duncan. I hope we get some of the “Oh god we’re being followed by Scientologists” nonsense (featuring Miranda July!), of course, but I hope there’s some discussion of Duncan’s plagiarism and whatnot. (Who plagiarizes Wikipedia on their super-pretentious blog? Come on!)
Ooh! Who will play them? Blake will be easy enough, but will they choose an old enough actress for Duncan? They better not use somebody like January Jones (though I love January)…Duncan was forty when she died. Admittedly, she didn’t look it…but I still want an age-appropriate actress.
God, I’m nerding out and not making any sense. I’m going to have to start a countdown when this thing finally gets a release date. I just find this story so compelling and tragic; I can’t believe nobody got the film rights sooner.
Young Steve Jobs is one sexy son of a bitch, isn’t he?
Long, long ago, back in Supernouveau’s Blogger days, I promised I would one day post a picture of my cats. I never did it, so I’d best finally remedy that.
This is as close as Bob and Zooey will ever come to cuddling. Bob is on the left, looking much smaller than usual, as the picture is a couple of months old and he is very recently post-haircut here. Zoe is the demonic-looking grumpy cat on the right. She’s all puffed up for some reason, but really she is a wee thing.
Procrastinate, yes, break promises, no.
1 of 14
»
