Sugar and Spice and Death and Gore

Have you ever noticed that sometimes you will come across several similar items while roaming around the internet? For me, it has been a string of things: first Star Wars (I couldn't swing a dead cat around here without it landing on something Star Wars), then the town of the job interview, and now candy Lord of the Rings.

Here we have the Lord of the Peeps: Fellowship of the Peep. Nothing says high fantasy like sugar bunnies.

Last xmas we got The Battle of Helms Deep in Karo-vision.

Now this xmas we've gotten The Battle of Pelennor Fields, in all its sugary fierceness.

And to finish out the group, an older site, Peep Research. Who knew Peeps were so academically inclined?

Self-Referential to the Max

Let us share a moment of silence for the demise of Le Mariage Royale, my favorite formalwear shop to fug on. Since Cindi Lauper and Björk can only buy so many evening gowns, it was a foregone conclusion that its days were numbered. But at least there’s a silver lining: the sewing shop next door has expanded into the empty space, so now you don’t have to anchor yourself to the front door before burrowing your way through to the button display in the back.

No one wants to hear this, but I must rant about it somewhere, so feel free to move on to the end now. Still here? Anyhoo, my favorite short-cut street has apparently become a favorite dog-walking street judging by all the piles of dog crap I had to dodge yesterday. Oh, and a drunk short-cut, going by the barf. I think it is time to start issuing dogs with diapers, like Hannah came up with all those years ago. I wonder how practical a head diaper would be, to be handed out at the door of the local bars when customers leave. Maybe with goggles attached?

I am not really big on the idea of New Year’s resolutions, because it seems that self-improvement should be an on-going thing. But when everyone else is talking about it, it is a good reminder that maybe the improvement is not improving at the rate I would like, and maybe I should reanalyze. So other people’s resolutions are ok, I guess. Poor John gets to hear me moan and groan about my deficiencies, so I won’t burden you all here, but I do have mini-goals I could share:
Take my iron every day.
Drink more water.
Spend more time each week walking, and not just in the course of my day. (I must point out, though, that my office is on the 4th floor of the English Department (78 stairs and 2 long hallways from the front door), and I go there 2-3 times per week. Our apartment is on the 3rd floor of our house (40 stairs), and our bedroom is upstairs in our apartment. So I have totally got stairs covered.)

And finally, I wanted to share this photo of the best dad in the world:



He actually didn’t volunteer to play Barbies—he had them thrust upon him by a very insistent Hannah.

Stop—Burgertime!

My grandfather always liked to get in on the ground-floor of new technology, so he was an early buyer of the Betamax video player and the Intellivision videogame system. When he moved up to the next new thing, we often inherited his old stuff. John still laughs at me a little for playing on a game system that had a disc instead of proper buttons. My all-time favorite game was Burger Time: A little chef runs around the screen trying to make the layers of a hamburger drop down while avoiding the evil weenies, eggs, and pickles. If you manage to drop a layer onto a bad condiment, there is a satisfying *squish* sound; AND you are armed with pepper that you can spray onto the baddies and freeze them temporarily.

I check the DamnHellAssKings site pretty often for updates and just noticed this new site linked recently: Videogamey. I was totally hooked when I saw the post "Walking Egg From Burgertime, Internal Monologue Of." *insert sound of breathless laughter*

Then tonight, Hannah found the SpongeBob version on the Nick web site. They call it Patty Panic, but it is totally Burgertime Nick-point-oh. At least Hannah will know the joy that is Burgertime, even if in a bastardized and commercialized form that I, a purist, will never stoop to play (while anyone is looking).

Save our earth

I am a big fan of The Rage Diaries and the interesting articles and commentary provided by Lisa Schmeiser.

In the same vein, I just came across this article at Arthur Frommer's blog (of the Frommer's travel guides):

Arthur Frommer Online: I got the strangest reaction when I recently suggested the adoption of a system for turning out lights in a hotel room

I secretly worry that the end of civilization as we know it will end with a crash and bang (and soon!), and I catch myself mentally cataloging the items in our home that we could eat for nutrition or burn for warmth. When I read an article like this, I don't know whether I should be relieved that someone is putting the word out or worried that no one is listening.