tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-343656172024-03-07T13:55:19.912-05:00JacquoffRandom rants and ruminationsMykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.comBlogger3855125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-44519208118424393342011-08-17T15:00:00.002-04:002011-08-17T15:17:29.210-04:00Overheard in the HollerDan: Did you fart?
<br />
<br />Michael: (nods)
<br />
<br />Dan: That's good. I was afraid you'd <a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/10308/saturday-night-live-oops-i-crapped-my-pants">crapped your pants</a>.
<br />
<br />Overheard by: Jack DumpseyMykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-53055053491114002422011-08-17T14:28:00.003-04:002011-08-17T14:59:02.148-04:00Come On Get Hoppé<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSB6k1oCG31nK97D1UOkOVab-_d2GBOYBIJL5BWbt5XlxRdWbGePcm0Hoc7YNt8xoGPznlgzFjRbr8uO-fH7jQJw926GaxyFy3MUVQcPDcBZMjqnhwWZkMfyr6up1AOkH6tXBLw/s1600/Westminster-Underground-S-004.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDSB6k1oCG31nK97D1UOkOVab-_d2GBOYBIJL5BWbt5XlxRdWbGePcm0Hoc7YNt8xoGPznlgzFjRbr8uO-fH7jQJw926GaxyFy3MUVQcPDcBZMjqnhwWZkMfyr6up1AOkH6tXBLw/s400/Westminster-Underground-S-004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641893974764551202" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Westminster Underground Station, London, 1937
<br />(E.O. Hoppé)</div></span>
<br />More of his work <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/gallery/2011/feb/13/photography-hoppe-portraits-in-pictures?INTCMP=ILCNETTXT3487#/?picture=371650779&index=0">here</a>.
<br />
<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:78%;">From Riley.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-77827910526521433882011-08-12T15:34:00.003-04:002011-08-12T15:49:05.636-04:00Today's Top Stories<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://news.yahoo.com/police-free-woman-pig-swarm-154417602.html">Police free woman from pig swarm</a></b></div>
<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/mobile/uk-england-somerset-14416809?SThisEM">Killer plant 'eats' great tit at Somerset nursery</a></b></div>
<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Riley and Karen.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-24499106162081346222011-08-12T13:47:00.004-04:002011-08-12T15:33:47.907-04:00Home Is Where the Hard-on Is<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://mashable.com/2011/08/03/best-wi-fi-names/">Hide Your Kids, Hide Your Wi-Fi:
<br />Mashable’s Favorite Wi-Fi Names</a></b></div>
<br />My favorite remains that of a friend's neighbor: Sweatpants Boner.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Derek.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-48021541399723204052011-08-12T13:34:00.001-04:002011-08-12T13:37:02.952-04:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://theoatmeal.com/quiz/baboon_dildo"><img src="http://theoatmeal.com/img/quizzes/generated/6_26_baboons.jpg" alt="How many baboons could you take in a fight? (armed only with a giant dildo)" /></a>
<br /><p>Created by <a href="http://theoatmeal.com">Oatmeal</a></p></div>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-50061828137182964032011-08-12T12:53:00.002-04:002011-08-12T13:17:57.460-04:00The Late ShowRecent favorites from <a href="http://sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com/">Sleep Talkin' Man</a>:
<br /><blockquote>"That's what I like about you. You're a reliable disappointment."
<br />
<br />"I am simply far too busy being passive aggressive to give a shit about you."
<br />
<br />"I'm tired of looking for the solution to this problem. Look for someone to blame instead."
<br />
<br />"There's a reason you're such an arsehole. You just don't have to keep telling everybody about it. People will work it out for themselves pretty quickly."
<br />
<br />"There are times when drinking the contents of the stomach of a ten-day-old corpse is a good idea. After hanging out with you, this is one of those times. Cock off!"
<br />
<br />"How do blind people know they're done wiping? How?"</blockquote>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-32865691836454449452011-08-12T12:28:00.003-04:002011-08-12T12:49:26.442-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aDjhJQr35eIppdsp2X2JwpVgYuZGpoU2OV5X_J6G5Br7txmdcLw78YiU42B5w4jzaARX9_-7Bkozt9gGx24inpUse-A-zQacJI5756UQ2td3RfpcJMu96G5nPW0-ipyCgE82xQ/s1600/gc.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aDjhJQr35eIppdsp2X2JwpVgYuZGpoU2OV5X_J6G5Br7txmdcLw78YiU42B5w4jzaARX9_-7Bkozt9gGx24inpUse-A-zQacJI5756UQ2td3RfpcJMu96G5nPW0-ipyCgE82xQ/s320/gc.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640012005840727458" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><div style="text-align: center;">“Sorry, ladies, you must be this tall to ride this ride … and a boy.”</div></span><div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://gaycaptions.tumblr.com/">gay captions</a></span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-2464561411310921152011-08-11T10:03:00.006-04:002011-08-11T10:10:11.349-04:00The Wisdom of Forrest Gimp<div style="text-align: center;"><i></i><blockquote><i>Every Day with Michael</i> is like <i>Tuesdays with Morrie</i>, but instead of inspiring and uplifting, it bums you the fuck out.</blockquote></div>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-38121114694899029742011-08-11T09:58:00.003-04:002011-08-11T10:03:15.947-04:00Tit for Tat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZkmsxNad3RKAABxzVz7U3yV7GJuXtCYjn8-0T3m8cEGzAnYDNCZQAL0gQjYfQOEawr2M0-nOKYiath-SQhDmtfyEVY68V2otoOEaaDscPdEZNpwbKohZetqU7k62JWALZWklKg/s1600/statue+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFZkmsxNad3RKAABxzVz7U3yV7GJuXtCYjn8-0T3m8cEGzAnYDNCZQAL0gQjYfQOEawr2M0-nOKYiath-SQhDmtfyEVY68V2otoOEaaDscPdEZNpwbKohZetqU7k62JWALZWklKg/s400/statue+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639598366197638786" /></a>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-6383049196928073782011-08-11T09:52:00.002-04:002011-08-11T09:57:04.649-04:00Benched<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_e_A5UOLKTDJ4nWBtFEdLfVdA4Akt-BBYAAY9rR7-Q07GwrllTvnHdthKb5T1_-cfb-k2vlN_uh5NZEoHmTaNXY8YMEaapsoYLWvkt2fpqccClZipU2GNPVfy04Wb1lozsa7Mw/s1600/bench.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_e_A5UOLKTDJ4nWBtFEdLfVdA4Akt-BBYAAY9rR7-Q07GwrllTvnHdthKb5T1_-cfb-k2vlN_uh5NZEoHmTaNXY8YMEaapsoYLWvkt2fpqccClZipU2GNPVfy04Wb1lozsa7Mw/s400/bench.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639596807493252434" /></a>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-13445332838617524882011-08-11T09:17:00.003-04:002011-08-11T15:36:30.068-04:00On the Edge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca9oM-hGoydbSjZ9mJIR9kh9h7IUmm6noK5Ga4XWTNK_BEHdxcbiB2man3uP3USwSELcJ-nhqyaAVehb6gk2XacEQy1Af9Dvfy-RxnzxcMAIoYvcKh34d2Zs-8vifvzluW-bNmA/s1600/cascade.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca9oM-hGoydbSjZ9mJIR9kh9h7IUmm6noK5Ga4XWTNK_BEHdxcbiB2man3uP3USwSELcJ-nhqyaAVehb6gk2XacEQy1Af9Dvfy-RxnzxcMAIoYvcKh34d2Zs-8vifvzluW-bNmA/s400/cascade.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639684347872288370" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Photos by Tina.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-36261620438705054082011-08-03T15:22:00.001-04:002011-08-03T15:30:01.253-04:00Today's Top Story<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/07/17/the-price-of-typos/">The Price of Typos</a></b></div><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Clark.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-54159403653738036082011-08-03T15:06:00.003-04:002011-08-03T15:19:52.280-04:00'I Am the Mustache King'<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://pleated-jeans.com/2011/06/22/how-to-read-body-language/">How To Read Body Language</a></b></div><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.happyplace.com/4279/chart-shows-what-youre-telling-people-with-your-body-language">Source</a></span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-40677793380417449472011-08-03T14:23:00.003-04:002011-08-03T15:02:55.887-04:00Dig It<div style="text-align: center;">"Oh, <a href="http://youtu.be/PZgCJkgzW6k">that</a> is so f*@%ing heinous."<br /><br /><iframe width="400" height="257" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PZgCJkgzW6k" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-19296584117019615172011-08-03T09:41:00.002-04:002011-08-03T10:08:01.742-04:00Too Close for ComfortOn her way to a party the other day, a friend dashed into Barnes & Noble to buy a particular title. She was accompanied by her mother, whose focus was elsewhere: <br /><blockquote>As we entered B&N, a woman at the front of the store was providing information on Nooks. I quickly walked past her, knowing the book would be among the new releases, while my mother approached the Nook woman and asked for help finding the book.<br /><br />"I've got it!" I called across the aisle.<br /><br />I then began walking to the cash register. My mother again began walking toward the Nook lady, who informed her that she couldn't actually ring up books. "You have to pay over there," she said.<br /><br />For reasons I still can't comprehend, my mother gave a low, throaty laugh, and said, "Oh, but we're attracted to YOU."<br /><br />Great. The Nook lady thinks my mother is hitting on her, I thought. <br /><br />I moved briskly to the cash register while my mother continued to chat up the Nook lady, who was 40 years her junior. I hastily collected my bag of books and my mother, then it hit me: The Nook lady probably thought my mother and I were a lesbian couple.<br /><br />Is there anything worse than being mistaken as having a lesbian relationship with your own mother?<br /><br />Yes, I realized a split-second later. Yes, there is.<br /><br />In her odd attempt at humor, my mother had told the Nook lady "WE'RE attracted to you." So the Nook lady probably assumed my mother and I were a lesbian swinging couple. <br /><br />Did I mention I drank A LOT at the party?</blockquote><br />Another friend replied:<br /><blockquote>OK, *I* find your mom really entertaining.<br /><br />My friend Christy and I went on a Disney Cruise together a few years ago, shortly after [my husband] died, with our twins (all ten years old) but without her husband. You get one waiter for the whole cruise, and he came over and introduced himself the first night, then expressed his amazement that we had four ten-year-olds at the table. Just as I was thinking "I wonder if he thinks we're a lesbian couple with quads," Christy nervously blurted out, "They're friends, but they're not all related!" and then she burst forth with some complete non-sequitur like "My husband couldn't come on this trip, but he really, really likes the Caribbean!" <br /><br />After the waiter left, Christy looked even more chagrined, then said to me, "I hope you didn't feel insulted. If I were going to be a lesbian, I wouldn't want to be a lesbian with anyone but you."</blockquote>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-5367335876849146862011-08-03T09:14:00.003-04:002011-08-03T09:33:03.266-04:00All in the Family<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://awkwardfamilypetphotos.com/">Awkward Family Pet Photos</a></b></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmvk-2QJFQb8MJI8MjxS6cmiqcI70H4wR9XpjszuO3HOwFQU-BZhmNR2CuLJfCZl4uoMShUrAaJT4hpUdP1aWKBj8P7SZf2Y583cd1SJBSzCMVxvzJ2Xv30qlp3zYNNfB6IH4Zw/s1600/app.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmvk-2QJFQb8MJI8MjxS6cmiqcI70H4wR9XpjszuO3HOwFQU-BZhmNR2CuLJfCZl4uoMShUrAaJT4hpUdP1aWKBj8P7SZf2Y583cd1SJBSzCMVxvzJ2Xv30qlp3zYNNfB6IH4Zw/s320/app.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636618112081144994" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2008844/First-awkward-family-photos-brace-awkward-family-PET-photos.html">Source</a>, via Peggy</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-73866976865757029432011-07-28T05:52:00.002-04:002011-08-11T09:15:11.890-04:00Five and TenFifteen years ago today, I met the man of my dreams. And though the expression is a cliché, the experience has been anything but.
<br />
<br />I sensed right away that he was different, and by the time we were halfway through our first date, I was thoroughly hooked. Not only was he nice to look at, he was smart, funny, thoughtful, sensitive, engaging, and playful—practically a custom order from the Man Store. The appeal of those qualities is even stronger today. There’s no one I’d rather be with.
<br />
<br />Let’s be honest: it takes a special person to put up with me day in and day out. Throw in a progressively debilitating disease—in the first year!—and the odds get even slimmer. I marvel regularly at the good fortune of having someone who’s a partner in every sense of the term, at my side on sunny days and dark ones, through epic highs and lows and the rolling terrain of ordinary life, making the bad moments bearable, the dull ones fun, and the great ones even sweeter. I can’t imagine the experience without him, and I’m grateful every day.
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<br />Happy anniversary, Dan. I love you.
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBBaq-FMIpjI87Y93T5U2qv4E-DjwfCZocyYGagdjPjQoA5LTkehYdV3FHTuu16RMrBXX9JF4a0iNHG3kDkLxVBgmL4Yw57zwX_LL4MIK_OIiw4nNWG3ByQTFEY7EoGxKzQq7SQ/s1600/funston.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBBaq-FMIpjI87Y93T5U2qv4E-DjwfCZocyYGagdjPjQoA5LTkehYdV3FHTuu16RMrBXX9JF4a0iNHG3kDkLxVBgmL4Yw57zwX_LL4MIK_OIiw4nNWG3ByQTFEY7EoGxKzQq7SQ/s400/funston.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634153762407354818" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-size:78%;">Photo by Marty.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-10531321517058139482011-07-26T16:17:00.003-04:002011-07-26T16:38:35.508-04:00Today's Top Stories<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.benzinga.com/news/11/07/1794187/jesus-pops-up-on-walmart-receipt">Jesus pops up on Walmart receipt</a></b></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Europe/2011/0708/In-Belarus-one-armed-man-arrested-for-clapping?cmpid=ema:nws:Daily%20Auto%2007082011&cmpid=ema:nws:NTk2MDMwMzI0OAS2"><b>In Belarus, one-armed man arrested for clapping</b></a></div><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Eugene and Peggy.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-29899664492233943432011-07-26T16:04:00.002-04:002011-07-26T16:10:40.500-04:00Word of the Day<b><a href="http://www.baltimoresun.com/news/maryland/bs-md-in-a-word-0711-20110711,0,7007606.story">evaginate</a></b><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Riley.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-71336178603436745132011-07-26T14:52:00.003-04:002011-07-26T15:11:33.860-04:00Foreign RelationsA friend reports: <br /><blockquote>At 5 p.m. tonight, I found myself in Kramerbooks in D.C. with a woman claiming to be my 2nd cousin. She and her husband and their four children were visiting D.C. from Michigan, and they were very aggressive about seeking a meeting, despite the fact that we'd never communicated.... I fended off their requests to meet at my home, suspecting they'd be more difficult to extract than six wisdom teeth, and suggested the Kramerbooks meeting. I'm pretty sure they wanted to stay with us, as they mentioned a number of times that they were having difficulty finding a hotel. <br /><br />As I was driving to Kramerbooks, I received a text: "We're here! We're all wearing bright green t-shirts"<br /><br />Displaying inner strength even I didn't know I had, I kept driving.<br /><br />I arrived at Kramerbooks and told the tattooed, pierced waiter that I was meeting a group in the cafe. He sneered and waved me in the direction of their table. They were all blonde, hearty, and indeed wearing bright green t-shirts, including their 2-year-old daughter. What they'd neglected to mention was that these were custom t-shirts. The front said, in huge black letters: OBAMA. ONE TERM. The back read: HOPE... FOR A CHANGE!<br /><br />I choked down a glass of wine rapidly while they drank six identical milkshakes. Then [my husband] arrived. He couldn't contain his laughter when he saw the shirts. He promptly began urging the family to spend a lot of time walking around Dupont Circle that evening, if they wanted a "real D.C. experience," saying that it was a much more lively, interesting place than the typical tourist attractions. The sadist.<br /><br />My cousin then asked me if we had met the president "or the former president, as I like to call him," she giggled. <br /><br />"Yes," I responded. "My brother-in-law worked on the transition and we went to one of the balls."<br /><br />Dead silence.<br /><br />She then asked about my older brother.<br /><br />"Oh, [he's] doing great," I said, happy to change the subject. "He's married to a wonderful woman. She's from Pakistan, and they're living in Japan now."<br /><br />"Is she.... Japanese?" my cousin asked hopefully.<br /><br />"No," I said. "She's Pakistani."<br /><br />"I see," she said, taking a restorative sip of milkshake. "It all sounds so.... exotic!"<br /><br />As we left Kramerbooks, [my husband] swept me up in a joyous hug. He had previously complained about having to go. "It was so worth it!" he gushed, as we watched our relatives head out to experience a "real D.C." night.</blockquote>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-48686570273995339082011-07-26T14:44:00.002-04:002011-07-26T14:49:19.047-04:00The Wisdom of Forrest Gimp<blockquote style="text-align: center;">As the shell is to the snail or the turtle, as the RV is<br />to the retiree, so my wheelchair is to me.</blockquote>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-3953072485367600192011-07-26T09:51:00.007-04:002011-07-26T10:09:21.749-04:00Off Time<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mike-bender/awkward-family-photos_b_893655.html#s305851&title=Joyride">Awkward Family Photos:<br />Vacation 2011 Edition</a></b></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpPjlGRSJ7BUGUPZMil_q2IrUr6m8JDgUwSS5CK_tLE87H1gn8uUoaqmZogZi6vOcdsH6nDDn0Guxk5oOkYItbpRYCYQlkL3aLd0UBaw-tLAD0QfgkVELBnpFzhOdK5H8_rLQoQ/s1600/slide_32585_306009_large.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpPjlGRSJ7BUGUPZMil_q2IrUr6m8JDgUwSS5CK_tLE87H1gn8uUoaqmZogZi6vOcdsH6nDDn0Guxk5oOkYItbpRYCYQlkL3aLd0UBaw-tLAD0QfgkVELBnpFzhOdK5H8_rLQoQ/s320/slide_32585_306009_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633659021732927522" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">From Derek.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-9737273621506898012011-07-22T13:16:00.000-04:002011-07-22T13:20:59.747-04:00Word of the Day<b><a href="http://www.worldwidewords.org/weirdwords/ww-cri4.htm">criticaster</a></b>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-86440359888967140732011-07-22T12:55:00.002-04:002011-07-22T13:12:32.127-04:00Sedaris in China<div style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/jul/15/david-sedaris-chinese-food-chicken-toenails">Chicken toenails, anyone?</a></b></div><blockquote>I'm used to standard butchering: here's the leg, the breast, etc. At the Farming Family Happiness, rather than being carved, the rooster was senselessly hacked, as if by a blind person, a really angry one with a thing against birds. Portions were reduced to shards, mostly bone, with maybe a scrap of meat attached. These were then combined with cabbage and some kind of hot sauce.<br /></blockquote><span style="font-size:78%;">From Derek.</span>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34365617.post-83453811832277459582011-07-22T12:12:00.002-04:002011-07-22T12:51:40.167-04:00Simper FiA double feature from <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/czg123#grid/user/2A9D6BFCC78EDB71">Randall</a>:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"How <span style="font-style:italic;">does</span> he <a href="http://youtu.be/zb8L7uqPBcI">do it</a>?"<br /><br /><iframe width="400" height="257" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zb8L7uqPBcI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />"Oh, look! It's <a href="http://youtu.be/alrOwDNb_y8">military candy time</a>!"<br /><br /><iframe width="400" height="257" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/alrOwDNb_y8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>Mykljakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16424591136015039760noreply@blogger.com0