The misunderstanding-that-can-be-resolved-by-one-conversation thing annoys me in any show.

That comes up in discussion a lot on some romance lists I used to frequent. If your whole dramatic set up could be resolved in one conversation, and more, one conversation which any normal person would have, or a question any sane person would ask, it's not worth my time.

A Midsummer Night's Dream is my favorite Shakespeare play, but I have never seen a production of it that is really good.

The Milwaukee Symphony did a pretty good production in conjuction with the Milwaukee Ballet last year. Red Foreman was t memfault the one who gets turned into an ass. And I think the director was Q.

Red Foreman was the one who gets turned into an ass

Bottom.

KO asked the same thing, last night, Cash. (/Countdown likes carrots)

The misunderstanding-that-can-be-resolved-by-one-conversation thing annoys me in any show.

It annoys me IRL when one's job is on the line.

Oh dear. I promised a co-worker that I'd watch Dancing With The Stars tonight. She wants my take on Mario Lopez on a dance floor. (Truth be told, I wasn't really watching his feet. Boy has a nice ass, though.)

It isn't as painful as I thought it'd be but I'd rather be watching just about anything other than Jerry Springer right now.

I've probably seen A Midsummer Night's Dream 10 times, in productions of widely varying quality. The worst was one in which Puck was portrayed as a smart-ass executive assistant to Oberon. He was on his cell phone throughout the play.

KO asked the same thing, last night, Cash. (/Countdown likes carrots)

I want to hear that pill-popping gas bag issue a lavish fucking apology. Else the wrath of all Parkinson's suffering folks come down on his head.

So I had to scroung the remaining half bag of chocolate chips into enough for a half-batch of chocolate chip cookies. Only, something went wrong in the halving of the recipe. It's not bad, just...weird. Oddly textured but not unpleasant tasting cookies have resulted. I shoulda baked brownies instead.

Eighteen months after he lost his normal speaking voice permanently (according to doctors), Dilbert creator Scott Adams got it back.

The weirdest part of this phenomenon is that speech is processed in different parts of the brain depending on the context. So people with this problem can often sing but they can’t talk. In my case I could do my normal professional speaking to large crowds but I could barely whisper and grunt off stage. And most people with this condition report they have the most trouble talking on the telephone or when there is background noise. I can speak normally alone, but not around others. That makes it sound like a social anxiety problem, but it’s really just a different context, because I could easily sing to those same people.

That's fascinating. People who have a severe stutter can often sing just fine too.