It's just this little chromium switch, here... (derspatchel) wrote,
It's just this little chromium switch, here...
derspatchel

bits & pieces: Monday Morning What Fresh Hell Is This Edition

000. Hey, remember when you weren't supposed to give out your phone number online? Well, apparently, some fellow did it on YouTube and made the front page of boston.com. That's right. Your front page story for today is Man Puts Phone Number On Internet.

Now, admittedly, the guy gets props for actually talking to the people who call, even the skeezy ones; he says he is just doing it to be conversational. And it's kind of neat to consider how he's making a closer human connection with the Huddled Masses of the Internet (on the other hand, I remember calling the Mojave Phone Booth before it was ignobly demolished and chatting away happily with some random couple who were on their way back from Burning Man, and that was like in 1999) and thankfully the kid has free weekend minutes on his plan... but still? Man Puts Phone Number On Internet is front page news?

001. Well, let's take a look at Metro's offerings today. Hmm, hmm, okay, hmm, oh there's a nice interview with the guys behind Hot Fuzz, though the interviewer seems to have not heard the name of their television series correctly, for Mssrs. Wright, Pegg and Frost are repeatedly referred to as the creators of some British TV show called "Space" or something. (Hint: There's a D at the end. While you can understand that hey, maybe you may not clearly hear that D in a phone interview, or in a recorded copy of a phone interview, that doesn't excuse the fact that clearly no background research was done, not even a single lookup on IMDB. Oh! SpaceD! Better fix that before it goes to press!) But hey, Pegg gives a shout-out to Cynthia Rothrock, which can only put a smile on the face of Hong Kong action flick fans, as it did mine.

010. I read an upside-down copy of BOSTONNOW which was lying on the subway floor (rather, I was reading a right-side up copy of MONNOLSOB) just to see what some more of the fuss was about, but I had to stop when I saw the headline "Online Campaigning Seems To 'Click'" and realized I had fallen through a time hole and landed smack dab in the middle of 1997, when that kind of cutesy headline was almost encouraged. I had to stop, you see, because time travel can nauseate a fellow something fierce. Got a long way to go, guys.

011. In the Ernest Hemingway Baby Shoes Story vein, I saw a well-used cat scratching post/kitty condo out on somebody's curb this morning, waiting for trash day, along with a trash bin with a thing of cat litter and I think a bag of cat food underneath it. Yeah, that's what I thought too, and I felt quite sad on my way to the T.

I know all too well the heartbreak that comes with getting rid of certain physical effects after a death of a loved one. We cleaned my great-grandmother's house out after she died in 1989, and I remember helping clean out the kitchen and finding the familiar blue tin of Danish sugar cookies she always kept around for us kids. And I knew exactly which cupboard I'd find it in, too.

It's also tough with beloved pets. I remember watching my father after the death of his dog Maggie, as he stood in the kitchen staring at her collar and dog tags, shaking them just slightly in his hand to hear their familiar jingle. I also remember cleaning off one of the pantry shelves recently and finding the special canned diet food and food-feedin' syringes that I'd taken home with Martha on the night before she died. I remember bringing the medicine and food home with grim determination; I had learned how to mix the food with warm water and hold her just right and feed her with the syringes. She left us before I could really work on it. On the other hand, when it came time to bury her, I wrapped her in the same maroon towel that we'd lined the cat carrier with on the day, eight years previously, we brought the kittens home. It was hers by right, really, and I would have never been able to wash the towel and use it again.

At any rate, I had briefly considered taking the kitty condo and bringing it back for His Nibs, who does indeed need a castle from which to lord over his fiefdom, but the thing had been well-used and well-loved and if it smelled too much like another cat, there's the possibility that Mr. A would've gone territorial and marked his property accordingly. (He's actually very good about not doing that, and he loves his previously-trashpicked scratching post, but I can't take any chances.) Besides, I just didn't have the heart to.

100. I'm pretty sure there's some delicious Doctor Who snark coming up at some point in the future. All I'm going to say is that I am going to attempt to explain and justify as many plot holes and problems as I can with last Saturday's episode (which violetisblue has brilliantly dubbed "Guys And Daleks") and not have to resort to "A wizard did it." Explanations involving parallel universes and other dimensions have not been ruled out yet, though.
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