For some of the regulars here, our hobbies come up in conversation. We got craft-nighters, chicken-raisers, bikers, there’s some sort of crazy-ass weight-lifting going on. What else do we have represented here for hobbies?
Lurkers, you must have some great hobbies going on, care to share? Continue reading
Guess what today is? Lunchtime poll. What do you mean, “What’s the question?” Weren’t you there in class when I thought of it? Continue reading
Admit it. We all had someone we couldn’t wait to see featured in a Tiger Beat centerfold. Mine was Jonathan Brandis. Who was yours? Continue reading
(Intro note for youngsters: back in Days of Long Ago, it was the custom, each Christmas, to send pretty cards to people you didn’t like well enough to write letters to, or talk to on the phone regularly.)
Imagine for a second you walk into your local 7-11, WaWa, Sheetz or local drugstore. You, on impulse, buy a scratch off ticket. A special scratch off ticket that promises you one million dollars – tax free. Incredibly, you win! What do you do next?
You get one free slap. Who are you going after?
Facebook was first introduced in February 2004; it’s hard for some of us to imagine a time when Facebook wasn’t a part of our morning routine.
First it was exclusive to college students, then it was for high schoolers, and then anyone could join. Ugh! You can thank Zuck for the resulting and endless fiddling with your Facebook privacy settings so Mom and Aunt Lori don’t see your drunk beer funneling pictures from college. Also, I’d like to personally thank Mr. Zuckerburg for my Facebook statuses coming up at Christmas dinner. Duly noted was my excessive use of the word fuck.
Once upon a time, Mr Cornnuts and I went to a trendy Italian restaurant. My husband, a lover of anchovies, ordered a martini with an anchovy-stuffed olive. He took a few sips and the waiter came by to ask him how he liked it. Continue reading
In Hammett’s The Thin Man, Nick Charles describes a man as “pleasantly ugly.” At the risk of opening a Pandora’s box of Jezebellian outbursts on the subjectivity of beauty, I pose the question to you slores: what famous person do you think of as pleasantly ugly? Is “pleasantly ugly” just a cruel way of saying “unconventionally good looking” or is there a distinction between those two? (Pic via)
Once upon a time, long, long ago, young Delta Sierra attended university*. One noon-time, she took her sad little home-made sandwich (she was poor) to eat in the campus theatre, which was holding a very good programme of short lunch-time plays. Today’s play, quite by happenstance, was a dramatization of Shirley Jackson’s powerful and influential short story, The Lottery. It is a masterpiece of ever-mounting suspense, tension and ohmygodno.
History does not record whether or not DS went to her afternoon classes, or indeed what those classes were. But that moment of ohmygodno has stayed with her all her life.
She sincerely hopes you have had similar seminal moments.
* She graduated with a half-assed BA and a very nice MRS. Comment.