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November 30th, 2005
10:53 am - pits & bieces: File under "Figure, Go"
eeka and I made a no-longer-illegal left turn last night and ended up on the Congress Street bridge, which has a long way to go towards being a real live bridge again, but at least you can drive across it. I miss the Tea Party Ship.
Later on, in Cambridgeside, we spotted the car with the vanity plate of LOL. Want to know which car in Massachusetts has the privilege of displaying such a license plate? A Ferrari. A yellow Ferrari. A canary yellow Ferrari with a LOL vanity plate. We had to run into Best Buy, find a disposable camera, and take pictures. Luckily the car was still there by the time we got back. I presume the pictures will be developed soon (eeka bought the camera.)
Also, if you ever go to a pet store with eeka, you will quickly learn that every single animal in the place, whether real or depicted in photos or drawings, is saying either "O RLY?" or "YA RLY" with a few chiming in with "NO WAI!!"
Today there were new Boston Glob thought bubble ads on the Red Line. Unfortunately there was someone wearing official T employee gear snoozing on the train near me, and I didn't have a decent writing utensil with me, so I could not add my own answers to these burning questions:What's happening in Davis Square tonight?
Well, I'm doing some laundry, watching Lost, and going to bed early. Why do you ask?
Do seventh-graders really need laptops?
Of course not. Do you really want to give your advertising guys more competition? The beauty of the second punchline is, of course, that any number of targets can be used in lieu of "your advertising guys" -- "yourselves", "the Herald", "the Metro" (or, if Adam Gaffin's reading, "The Dig." Hi, Adam!)
For the Steve Perry fans among us (and who isn't?) then this picture may be one of the best things ever, and wouldn't you want it in your room under your black lights.
Mr. Abbie, by the way, is still a big fat cat.
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goodness. that picture even got the sideburns right.
*sigh* this time, I think I am going to have to shoot the messenger. Hold still for me, you 80's pimpin' beeyitch. |
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