Today has been a bit of a random roller coaster . . .
• Got slapped down over a badly crafted comment over at Betsy’s;
• Received some great comments on a work-related writing project;
• Discovered my library books are overdue, which is ironic and embarrassing;
• Scored a free eCopy of Bill Cameron’s One Day from the ever-generous Alison Janssen over at Dead Guy (she’s giving away Anthony Neil Smith’s Yellow Medicine this week—go check it out);
• Realized I have the skin of a sixteen-year old and the body of a forty-year old, which seems both backwards and unfair;
• Sampled the world’s best garlic dressing for lunch and found my peppermint gum afterward—no, I don’t think this is related to my skin, why?
• Poked myself in the eye with the pencil I was trying to stick behind my ear;
• But it was the eraser end of the pencil;
• Received some shout-outs from various blogging friends (thanks, guys!);
• And finally admitted that my new athletic shoes have broken me in first. Talk about—say it with me—the agony of defeat.
I’m calling it even . . .
oooOOOooo
Small Victory:
Jane found the missing piece of her umbrella—she won’t tell me where—and I managed to reassemble it without loss of blood.
oooOOOooo
Today’s paper mentioned that Psychostick, a self-styled “humorcore” heavy metal band, is approaching our area on their Unleash the Dumb Tour. According to the article, their style is an irreverent counter to the typical anger-fueled metal stage shows.
Their single, “Flesh Eating Roller Skate Holiday Joyride” broke the top 20 on Billboard’s Holiday Chart.
So of course I had to check ‘em out.
If Weird Al Yankovic wrote for AC/DC, it might sound something like this . . . kind of a heavy Tenacious D.
I’m now humming “This isn’t a Song, it’s a Sandwich” (lyrics are here).
Definitely hearing the cheese today. . .
oooOOOooo
Slightly Larger Victory:
Finally reworked that one scene so there’s a wound, a blood trail, and little loss of dialogue or crucial information. Whew!
Now I can get on with my life, such as it is.
oooOOOooo
And just to class the place up a little, here’s Stephen Fry in a contemplative mood:
Earful of Cider 