Operation Flush Em Out

I am in the bathroom stall at work. On top of the toilet paper dispenser there is a green plastic soldier who seems to be crawling toward me stealthily and painfully. With his belly flat on the ground and his assault rifle held aloft he can use only his feet and elbows to propel him forward. I don't know where the rest of the platoon is, but he seems determined to carry out the mission alone. I anticipate the toilet will be a US territory by dawn.

Postcard

A young friend of mine who is a funnier writer than I am sends me this email message, an excerpt of which I am quoting here entirely without her knowledge or permission. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone.

"i'm in norway. so that's truly where the cool kids are. and the babies. and the large stacks of meat. and the cheesecakes with neon yellow grape studded jello. and the bracelets about christ. see what i mean? tomorrow we go to the graveyard and the mall. yesterday was my grandpa's 80th birthday party. highlights included my 9-year-old cousin singing a pop song about jesus, and a rather elderly man giving an exceedingly long speech about sheep (and no, the sheep were not a metaphor)."

New knowledge

A woman came to school to speak about her work in Zimbabwe. Here are two things I've learned.

1) Many men in Zimbabwe have exciting names. Among them, Jealous, Xmas, July, Doubt, Aloicious, and Blessing.

2) If you have a garden in Zimbabwe, it is likely that elephants may wander in to snack on it. This sort of puts the wandering deer of my childhood into perspective.

Yeah right

I was reading a little article today in which the author references numerous exotic foodstuffs. Among them were truffles from Pierre Herme. "Hmmm," I thought, "I like Paris. I like chocolate." So I went to the website, which features a video of a Pierre Herme runway show. I admit that the idea of gorgegous, expensive desserts having their moment to "do that little turn on the catwalk" has some appeal to me. However, having no legs of their own, the desserts must be carried--in this case by half-naked zombie-like models. Every so often these creatures take a little dip of mousse or what have you and lick it from their fingers with maximum sultriness. I laughed aloud. Whatever fantasy they may wish to inspire, one thing we can all be sure of is that these girls do not spend a lot of time eating dessert. Their asses are pretty much on full view and they are not asses that are familiar with Pierre Herme's oeuvre.

Later in the video the man himself shows up. Ah ha. Now there is someone who looks like he knows his gateaux.

Yesteryear

I'm telling you, I just can't get enough of old time radio.

Philip Marlowe says, "As I drove back to Hollywood, I tried to figure it out, but I had about as much to work with as Gypsy Rose Lee after the third encore."