I made the mistake of moving furniture in my bedroom, which led to me find that the carpet has changed color, so extensive vacuuming was performed -- like down on your knees, changing the bag, really rucking up the nap of the carpet to make sure you suck out all the dirt. A lot more work than I'd planned on performing in the bedroom today, but now I know in my heart that it's clean.

I always got the impression from that "I Feel Pretty" ad that they're being forced to sing it.

I didn't get the impression that they were forced, just that some people were remarkably unimpressed by the fact of pretty.

ita, Polgara told me the The Hump story.

a) HEE It must be your Karma or something.
b) Now I have the Fish Head song stuck in my head.

The Hump is insane, man.

The poor woman! To briefly retell:

Polgara was protecting her sensibilities by facing away from the bar where the wriggling and the dying happened, but suddenly a woman at the next table shrieked and shot her chair back.

As far as I could see, the fish head on their shared plate had slid towards her. Pretty creepy, and funny to watch her reaction.

A little bit later, though, the fish started wiggling its fins. You have to understand, this is less than half a fish, and it's been out of the water for a while--certainly long enough for the chefs to sashimi its rear end and serve it up.

The woman never scoots her chair back to the table, although she does try to eat. Her two (male) friends who'd laughed more at than with her when she first freaked started to look much more suspiciously at the food, and when the fish head started to open its mouth, they were pretty much side on with their askanceness.

I was crying with laughter, but Polgara and I were the only other ones even reacting.

For those of you playing along at home, here's Polgara's take on it.

Ahahahahaha!

Ok, so, we're sitting there at a table by the fire. After walking in and seeing them cutting a fish at the bar while it was still flopping, I made sure to pick a seat that faced the wall. Dinner was marvelously yummy, including the flourless chocolate cake, and we're sitting there chatting, when I notice serenada is staring at the table behind me.

You'd think I'd have learned not to click on her links, but no, I go ahead and turn, and sure enough, there's an enormous FISH HEAD on a plate staring at the ceiling. The woman at the table is obviously not thrilled, while the two men are amused. I turn back to the table with an "ew!"

Thirty seconds later, there are gasps behind me, and serenada kinda double takes. I look behind me, against my better judgment, and the woman has moved her chair back about a foot.

"It moved, didn't it?"

"Oh yeah. It slid right towards her."

But it didn't stop there. In the next five minutes, it widened its eyes, it waved its fins, and it opened its mouth three times wider than it was when it arrived at the table. It's bottom-half's innards were splayed out next to it in neat fillets while the top half was forced to watch.

And I laughed. I'm so ashamed. *sigh* Mostly, though, I'm just thankful it wasn't on *our* table.

So the chef substituted the Necronomicon for his usual recipe book?

I just watched this week's Justice--did the first episode end in the same way with a view of the crime?

did the first episode end in the same way with a view of the crime?

Yep. They will each week.

I wish Spydaddy well, but the show didn't really tempt me. Too brash.

I liked the first one enough to watch the second one, but the second one annoyed me a lot more. SpyDaddy yelled too much, rather than acting.