In the list of things lost, I can't find the rubber gasket that seals my blender. I remember washing it with the rest of the blender parts, but now it's nowhere to be found.
'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
Natter 43: I Love My Dead Gay Whale Crosspost.
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
My mother's off to do migraine research.
Go Mom! May she have an inspired plan.
Just crawled home. Since the boys were gone for the day my GF made me go to the mall to shop for much need business clothes. She being the shop till ya drop girl and me not having stepped in the mall for nearly 3 years. I survived. She took me for spicy Chinese food as a reward.
Home again I found Jon Stewart on Larry King. (never ever watch Larry) Jon is damn entertaining. Larry is very amused too.
Oh, and I've lost my beret. I've been forced to wear a touque. Since touques make me look like a muppet, no good can come from that.
OK, how about this? Everyone else should find their various things, ita should lose the migraine. It seems like a fair trade, no?
In Natter title news, Sundance channel just showed Heathers. Good times.
I lost my motivation and sense of purpose some years ago. I think I left them in the backyard of my old house under some bricks.
Wonder if I can find replacements on eBay...
How can we possibly live with only Tivo and Digital cable and the still vast collection of videotapes?!?
It's like you've become Amish! Possibly without the inbreeding.
Everyone here is asleep and I feel a little insane.
Tell me something happy.
Whales have learned to outsmart fishing fleets. [link]
eta:
ANCHORAGE, Alaska - Years ago, the sound of a boat sometimes spelled death for the heavily hunted sperm whale. Now, some of them have figured out, it means dinner.
Scientists recently figured out that sperm whales in the Gulf of Alaska zero in on boat engines to locate miles of fishing lines hung with valuable sablefish.
I got nothing, Allyson, sorry. Spring is coming? I might actually get a job after I graduate? And probably NOT as a pimp.
I think picturing Jesse in a pink marabou-trimmed ten-gallon hat as part of her new pimptress outfit is happy-making.
I have yet more headaches (maybe I should stop frequenting b.org since headaches might be some sort of contact infection from this joint...) and it's making it even harder to get to work on the dreaded resume writing. So maybe it's happy-making that you don't have to write a resume? Maybe?
I got nothing.