Wolfram: Why is it that when you go into a supermarket only having to pee a little, and you're only there to buy 3 freakin' items and you get to checkout and notice there's only two checkouts open which isn't so bad since there's only two people in line in one and three in the other, so you get in the two person line but you couldn't see that at the head of the line was a very nice and personable youth-challenged individual who is having a very pleasant conversation with the cashier about using only half a rain check and meanwhile your need to pee has gotten worse, but fortunately the conveyer has moved enough so you can squeeze your stuff behind the third person's stuff, while the happy shopper at the front of the line is now conversing with the manager and then, naturally, writes a check for the entire purchase, and that's when you notice that the person ahead of you is doing two separate transactions, which the cashier didn't notice until too late, and hahaha, no problem we'll just void the transaction, and your bladder is getting bigger, and you are starting to get just the teensiest bit annoyed, and finally the two transactions are done, and the cashier takes this opportunity to switch in her cash drawer and tell a few jokes to her friend up at the manager's desk, meanwhile a third lane has opened but since you are at the head of your line you can't switch, and it's finally your turn and of course the credit card strip is so worn that the cashier has to type it in manually and you get your groceries and head for the door but there's a cute little girl whose pushing the shopping cart ahead of you and her mother and aunt are helping her park the thing, and now you have all your stuff so it's too late to throw in the towel and find a restroom so you try to think dry thoughts as you finally make your way out the door to your car and load your groceries and get home and take your groceries to the door, to find that your wife has forgotten to unlock the door for you and you put down the groceries and fumble for your keys, cursing and muttering, and of course the cans fall out of the bag and off your stoop and you just don't care anymore and you burst in the house and finally take care of business?

Not that this happened recently or anything.

I don't know why it makes me laugh so. Bon bon in Natter:

My parents' cat Fred doesn't understand the point of fetch. He waits until it's about time for everyone to wake up in the morning, puts his favorite ball in his mouth and screams like a motherfucker until someone takes it away from him. You throw it, and then he ignores it and trots off. And the next morning the cycle starts anew.

Nutty's Natter:

I think that clinical insanity is an unfair advantage

ita on Great Danes, but also setting up billytea --

They're lazy as all hell, and if I get one I don't like, it won't live that long anyway.

Did you point out that the same would probably be true of a husband?

I don't know why it makes me laugh so.

Possibly because the idea of a cat actually deigning to play anything, let alone play Fetch, never mind the screaming? Comedy gold.

(Did I explain the fun out yet--because that's my gift. Sure, it's not as cool as saying death is my gift, but the end is the same.)

In Bitches:

Cashmere: Thanks to Connie, I can discuss this here. DH wants to take a picture of Owen in a roasting pan, naked, surrounded by potatoes and carrots. Is this wronger than a thing that's wrong, parental photography run amok or a way to make Anne Geddes swallow her own tongue?

billytea: Susan should do it! She can title the picture "Annabel Lecter".

Oh, fine, make *me* look like the reason this came up.

edit: Oh, wait, yeah ...

Another Cut from Scola's Greatest Hits in Natter:

Rock Sta Tom Scola:

Tea, on the other hand, rocks. Plus, it's an antioxidant.

Right now, I'm so antioxidized, I can put out fires just by looking at them.

I sense a new E! special in the works.

P-C in Literary:

I'm almost done with Wuthering Heights. You know what would make this book better? Zombies.

tommyrot in Natter:

I bought an R.D. Laing book, the novel of Solaris and a book for Gus called "No Touch Monkey! and Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late."