This sounds so serious, but fear not today’s entry is lighthearted.
I’ve decided that my life is stagnant and that it needs to be shaken up a bit. “Out with the old, in with the new” (a statement which has meaning in my past, but that’s another story).
Sometimes You Have To Let The Man, Part Two
This morning I purchased an iPod. It’s not one of those new, fancy flash-based iPod Shuffles announced yesterday by Apple at Macworld, nor is it one of the hip U2 models that somebody I know just scored, but it will be sufficient enough to raise my “Coolness Level” from yellow to orange. The only thing I need to figure out is how it’s going to be able to play my cassette tapes…
Sock It To Me
A Rowan & Martin’s Laugh In reference you ask? No, actually a sock drawer reference. It amazes me how one event triggers another. After the t-shirt epiphany the other day, I started examining the rest of my clothing collection (and by collection I mean “clothes accumulated over the past ten years” and not “this year’s Fall collection”). Holy shit I own a lot of socks — far more than any one individual should. Granted, I own different socks for different occassions (as if this justifies my habit); I own socks for running, biking, hashing (they go all the way up to my knees), dressing up, cold weather wool socks, etc. Name an occassion, I’ll name the sock (which oddly reminds me of the movie City Slickers where Billy Crystal’s character is challenged to name a food and Ira or Barry Shalowitz (I can’t remember which) would come up with the perfect ice cream flavor).
You Say Cuss, I Say Curse
I had a good laugh last night watching a program called “Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares” on BBC America. The premise of the show is that Gordon Ramsay, a brash, foul-mouthed chef in Britain (is “chef in Britain” a contradiction?), has taken on the task of visiting small restaurants in order to correct their deficiencies — all in a week’s time. The tagline for the show is “If you can’t stand the heat you shouldn’t be in the f**king kitchen.” It makes me laugh that apparently even on “The Beeb”, at least the American version, you cannot say “fuck”, although “shit” is dropped often, as is “bollocks” (which essentially means “fuck up”, or refers to one’s testicles). Odd, very fucking odd.
And now for some ideas stolen from LiveJournal…
Current Mood – thick
Current Music – Sirius Satellite Radio Channel 26, playing Sonic Youth
Current Read – the owner’s manual to my digital camera