ME: Do you want a LifeSaver?
HUBBY: I have you!


"When it absolutely, positively...uh...forget it."

"Honey, I found your bike!"

"What? I didn't hear anything about the buses not running!"

Round up the usual suspects. Medium sized breeds only.



Hubby was on the phone with one of those automated things that asks you questions before giving you to a representative. So he was yelling things into the phone like "SAVINGS." "MARCH FIRST." And then all of a sudden he yelled, "GET LAID, YA C---SUCKER!!!" and hung up.

He said it was because the system asked him, "What would you like to do next?"

This has been blogged with his permission.


On porpoise

ME: At the hotel, you can see dolphins swimming from your balcony.
HUBBY: You can see dolphins swimming?
ME: Yeah.
HUBBY: They're called porpoises, by the way.
ME: Maybe we can sit on the balcony and eat tuna and watch the porpoises.
ME: What's worse, that I said that or that you're laughing at it?
HUBBY: I think they're both pretty bad.


Kevin Smith responds to the hubbub

From his blog, silentbobspeaks.com:

Lots of folks still telling me to stop crying and lose weight - as if that’s what this was all about. Easier to tell the lie about the whiney Fatso than the truth that someone at Southwest fucked up. “Sure, someone fucked up, Lardo” You’re saying. “You and your fat gut! This is YOUR fault because you’re fat!”

Once again: I know I’m fat. The point of all this? I’m not too fat for Southwest Air, yet someone deemed me so. *sigh*


My mom called to tell me it's gotten really slippery out. She wants me to call her when I get home to let her know I'm ok.

Awwww. I love moms.
Been a while since I've gotten one of these

Thank you for giving us the chance to consider “Curtains Up” for publication in
The Missouri Review. Though it does not fit our current needs, we appreciate
your interest in our magazine and your commitment to quality writing.
We wish you the best of luck publishing your work and hope you’ll consider
sending us more in the future.
The Editors



It's gonna snow on Wednesday. A lot.

Finally updated the Blog of my Barometer. It was so neglected.


Wheee, my ship may have come in!

I got this in the mail today:

Seventeen television networks and studios and seven talent agencies have agreed, subject to court approval, to settle age discrimination allegations in connection with the hiring and representation of television writers age 40 or over...for a collective payment of $70,000,000. The settlement defines two classes -- persons age 40 or over who have previously written for television, and other persons age 40 or over who have been interested in writing for television.

Okay, so I'm not 40 or over, and I was a lot younger back when I sent in a few spec scripts...but isn't it funny that even people who wanted to write for TV may be included in the settlement?

The 24 networks, studios, and agencies "deny that they discriminate, but believe it makes sense to end the litigation, which has been pending since 2000. The court did not decide which side was right."

Hey, I want some money just 'cause I didn't have any contacts in TV or film when I got out of school. Why should the privileged get those jobs? Darn it, give me my two dollars!


J.D. Salinger

I'm late in posting about him. Since he's one of my favorite authors, I should post about his death. Really, I have little to say that hasn't been said. I love the way he writes, and of course, his characters. It's a very unique style that can't be imitated, but can be learned from. The sense of detail and non-rushed-ness of the descriptions of goings-on, especially.

I won't comment much on his personal life, but some of it defies explanation. The success of his books, and the fact that he made so much money off of them, is what allowed him to live the way he wanted, and yet he would likely begrudge other writers for publicizing their works in order to even have any hope of selling enough of them to make a few bucks.

He lived to a ripe old age, and of course I would love to read any of his works that he's been hiding all these years. People who knew him have estimated that he had between 2 and 17 manuscripts locked away. More recently, someone said he was merely writing about health issues (he was into all kinds of homeopathic remedies), so maybe it's nothing exciting to read. But the fact that he was reclusive for that long would indicate that he must have been writing SOME fiction. What else could he have been possibly doing with all that free time in his secluded house? Eat, walk the dog, read the papers, read books, watch old movies...he had to have done some Salinger-type writing.


"You didn't post anything today on your blog." -- The Hubby

And...now I have.