Candy's out, because my mom is trying to lose weight. I'm not wild about sending flowers, but my mom loves plants, so I'm keeping that in mind. I'd physically go shopping and send her something, but after nearly dying over the weekend, walking more than two blocks is right out.

I don't know, man. Right now I'm just going to drink more coffee and try not to faceplant my keyboard.

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A perfect anniversary play. HAH!

It really is. Plus the ad has Kate in boxing gloves on the front (and a bethonged ass with "Kate" written/tattooed on it on the back), so we have a theme!

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Which boxing dummy, DJ? That's my kind of anniversary, BTW, if I were the kind that had anniversaries.

Can we ban online petitions?

"If the late former President Gerald Ford could find it in his heart to pardon the late former President

Richard Nixon after his mistake(s), we undeniably support Paris Hilton being pardoned for her honest mistake as well, and we hope and expect the governor will understand and grant this unusual but important request in good faith to Ms. Paris Whitney Hilton," the petition says.

I don't care about the good ones, I really don't. Call the Paris Hilton one the bad apple that ruins the lot, whatever.

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I got my mom a kick-ass gift this year. When she wnet through chemo a couple of years a go, a well-meaning friend bought her new everyday dishes, since she had insisted on keeping the old stoneware ones my dad picked out long after he died and they were all chipped up. Well, the new dishes were Corelle, which are fine, but rather flimsy and not grown-up enough for a 79-year-old woman who likes to have folks over to dinner a lot. She felt she had to drag out Great-Grandmother's Limoges all the time. I knew she wanted nicer dishes and that she would never buy them, as the ones she had were a gift.

So we gave her these. [link] A set for eight. I had a gift certificate, so it wasn't even that much. She opened tham last night and called to tell me it was the best present EVER.

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I, uh, don't get my mother stuff for Mother's Day. I do call, though. My sister may get her stuff, but I'm not sure which Mother's Day Jamaica observes.

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More old predictions for the future - a 1901 article in the Newark Daily Advocate (Newark, Ohio) with predictions (questions, actually) for the 20th century: [link]

What I find interesting is the large number that deal with gender roles, showing that the "woman's place" was pretty contentious then. And of course, there had to be at least one question about airships....

Will lovely woman do the proposing?
Will woman bosses run [politics?] as they now run the home?
Will the housemaid be a houseman?
Will horses be exhibited as curiosities?
Will politics be run on a philanthropic basis?
Will the Boston woman discover the north pole?
Will airships be provided for messenger boys?
Will men wear frilled shirt waists and women trousers?
Will the college girl carry a cane and smoke a pipe?
Will there be free lunch stands for women?
Will men go to church evenings instead of to the club?
Will the wife kiss her husband goodby before starting off to business?
Will rich noblemen marry poor American girls?
Will every busy man wear an illuminated collar button?
Will the automatic principle be adjusted to taxes so that they pay themselves?
Will there be a society for the extermination of noisy milkmen which will really [unreadable]?
Will pounds be pounds and quarts be quarts in weight as well in price?
Will women be compelled to flatten their pompadours at the theater so that men may see the play?
Will our beloved country still be going to the "demnition bowwows" and political orators howling for votes to save it?

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Can we ban online petitions?

I'll start a petition to ban online petitions.

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Can we ban online petitions?

I'll start a petition to ban online petitions.

Reminds me of this new Spinal Tap short documentary (for their appearance at Live Earth)

The vid opens on the set of Marty DeBergi's new film, "The Hills Have Eyes with Macular Degeneration." Hoping to get the band back together for Live Earth, Marty seeks out the members, now not talking to each other. Nigel is a ranch hand on a miniature horse farm, David runs a hip-hop production company, called Back Alley, in a former colonic irrigation clinic. Derek talks to Marty from a rehab center, via webcam, where he's being treated for Internet addiction. Marty, the affable lunk, manages to get the band talking again and to agree to reunite for the benefit.

[link]

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Which boxing dummy, DJ? That's my kind of anniversary, BTW, if I were the kind that had anniversaries.

This one, ita. [link]

I'm now trying to decide which horrid ex I should name him after. The one who got married without telling me? The one who dumped his previous girlfriend by picking me up for our first date (in her car) for a party he was supposed to be taking her to? The one who held my neck against the wall with a garden hose?

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Looks cool, DJ. I'd get heavier boxing gloves (14 or 16oz), though. Better workout. I have a friend who broke one of those in the store--he asked them if he could hit it as hard as he could, and they fell for it.

I've never gained anything by visualising someone I hated, hitting wise. But that and angry music are popular motivators at the centre, for both students and instructors.

I like hitting things. Hate doesn't make it any better, and since I'm happy doing it, I'm okay if my soundtrack reflects that.

I have been let do understand that I diverge on these points.

Annoyingly enough, the one call so far I've wanted hear the other side of? Not on speakerphone.

I take this personally.

Just found out my dress was gapping below the belt. I wonder if it was gapping on the walk in from my car...best not to dwell on it.

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