The French tongue, a mixed bag as always: it provides me both with my pan-national Favorite Surname (Thibodeaux) and pan-national Least Favorite Men's First Name (Thierry). How to determine the true value of a language that gives us both, the triumphant victor and the vile offender?
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Monday, January 17, 2005
Here is what will soon be hitting the streets labeled a "Dodge Charger".
Here is what "Dodge Charger" has meant until now, until this.
Huh. You know, I think later I'll scorch some sugar cubes with a butane lighter, stick them on top of some dollar-store boxed flan mix, call it "creme brulee" and try to sell it. Apparently this sort of approach is good business.
Here is what "Dodge Charger" has meant until now, until this.
Huh. You know, I think later I'll scorch some sugar cubes with a butane lighter, stick them on top of some dollar-store boxed flan mix, call it "creme brulee" and try to sell it. Apparently this sort of approach is good business.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
A "fantasy", now, that involves something one hasn't done, right? I'm trying to make sense of another (sexually suspect) billboard. For Coldstone Creamery, it displays some sort of dusky-complected ice cream cake and invites the viewer to "Fulfill Your Chocolate Fantasy". Does this billboard assume a reader who has never eaten anything containing chocolate, or is something other than chocolate being referred to?
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Ever watched a game with a Broncos fan, orange and blue team socks pulled up to knees, who before the game's start crouched in a corner with head in hands attempting to personally psych out the opposing quarterback, saying he doubted it would work but wasn't "prepared to rule it out"? I have, now.
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Perhaps the least stomachable aspect of being laid out on the couch with some sort of Third World flu: commercials for places like IHOP and McDonald's featuring food that glistens. *Stop that glistening*.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Rain brings the ants out in the East Bay. Yesterday afternoon, before obliterating a small cadre of scout ants, I noted that one of the leaders was bearing most of the body of a fallen comrade. "Wow, they still do that?" I thought. Can you follow my imbecilic line of thinking there? For a second or two, I was basically thinking, if not in these words, "In today's callous, ill-mannered world, it's nice to see that ants still look after their dead." I humbly submit this as the most absurd anthropomorphization in human history.