"Puppet wrangler? There weren't any puppets in this movie!" – Crow T. Robot
The other day, I accidentally broke my letter opener. So I bought a new one through the campus general stores. It’s a little thing, maybe two inches across in either direction, and can easily fit in the palm of my hand. Which doesn’t explain why they shipped it to me in a box twelve inches long, nine inches wide, and seven inches deep. Unless they were really worried it might break on the ride over here.
This is what passes for excitement here during the day.
I don’t take a lot of online personality tests — and I call myself a weblogger? — but this Firefly one was pretty cute. I’m apparently a 66% match for Zoë. Make of that what you will.
Neil Gaiman writes:
You know that thing you do where people tell you not to click on things and you do anyway and then you have an image that you can’t get out of your head, not even if you scrub it with wire wool until it bleeds? Well, this will be, for some people anyway, one of those images: it’s a toad mating ball. If you think you might want not to have seen it, then just don’t click on it.
Sound advice, that. Why, oh why, didn’t I listen?
Thankfully, Gaiman also shares a link to a Lileks article on Little Big Books, which is a pretty good read, even if the books themselves never were.
McSweeney’s offers daily reasons to dispatch Bush.
