Quick hits

First, go read the comments from yesterday's post. The phrase "cube tooter" was used, and there's a story about an unapologetic farter in there too. Amazing. I laughed right on out loud, and that's not something that happens that often, because I laugh very loudly and sometimes frighten myself.

Anyhow, go read.

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The following is a total dash of nostalgia.

Burning Down the House. (a clickable link, yo, for I know not how to do the embeddening)

Man, I feel good now.

I've been re-listening to "More Songs About Buildings and Food" lately, and I must say that the band got better with time, with "Stop Making Sense" one of the best albums I've ever heard. The concert video is pretty spectacular too, if you like that kind of thing, which I do, which is why I said something about it here.

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I was shoppin' at the local Food Lion (rawr!) yesterday evening while the Things were at tae kwon do, and in the midst of a very focused cereal-buying moment I thought I heard the voice of God. It was deep, clear and booming, and it was telling me that I couldn't have that box of cereal because I was too sneaky at home...

Before putting the box of "Oats and More" back on the shelf (because, seriously, it's HEALTHY, God!), I looked around me, and espied a wiry redneck (I say that with love, y'all) gentleman and his three children in the same aisle. I hesitated putting back the cereal, because I didn't want to appear to be a waffler on cereals in front of a crowd...it's not like it's a life and death decision, the cereal.

And then God spoke again, only this time it came out of the mouth of the man: "Ya'll shuh-nt be able to git that there snack, because mama tells me y'all've bin nawty tuhday tuh her."

I admit I might have gawped a tiny bit.

It was an improbable voice. His body wasn't big enough to hold that voice. He wasn't really big enough to hold much more than a mellow tenor, and yet here he was carrying around the heavy burden of a voice of power, richly resonant, with layers of timbre padding a deep rumbling bass note. The voice was beautiful...and it belonged to this hard-worn man with three little kids who was just trying to buy some supper.

This, for some reason, made me happy. Little surprises almost always do.

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"Pirates of the Carribean" 3 totally rocks. It's way too long, but it still freaking rocks. That movie was the previous two evening's entertanments; I have no idea how people wer able to sit through the whole thing at the theater.

There were moments of real beauty, of extreme excitment, of heroism and humor, and an ending I did NOT expect. Completely worth the 4 dollar rental fee.

I know that y'all have already seen it, but I just had to throw in my two bits of review.

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Leg update! It's fine. No longer feels like the insides are going to come sproinging up to the outside, and I can walk reasonably well, there is minimal bruising, and I'm thinking of playing tennis this weekend.

Not bad for an old broad, I should think.

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And that's it folks. Duty calls, and I must go clean it up. Heh.