This week, someone put superglue in the light switch slot and the toilet paper dispenser locks in the men’s room at one of our library branches.
Admit it—you just smiled or snickered a little. Everyone I’ve talked with has had the same involuntary reaction.
It’s an act of vandalism and disrespect, and taxpayer money is going to be wasted replacing the locks and paying for the extra electricity until a city employee can pick the glue out of the switch. We’re lucky the joyful jackass didn’t think to put any on the seats or the stall doors.
But I snickered, too.
Because the combination of bathrooms and superglue, for whatever deep, psychological reason, is comedy gold.
oooOOOooo
Just to carry the typewriter theme as far as I possibly can, it’s true that the last company that still made manual typewriters ceased production around April.
The article in The Atlantic is here.
Let us observe a period of silence. If your mind drifts to eight-tracks, VHS tapes, floppy disks of all sizes, vinyl records, and cassette tapes, that’s all right.
If you have to ask what any of those things are, get thee to a dictionary, young whippersnapper—and you can look that up, too.
oooOOOooo
I’m proud to announce that I’ve redeemed myself from my failure to solve Jeff Somer’s Final Evolution puzzle and found a new favorite Time Suck.
John McDonald over at Making Light—where I lurk in silence because I’m clearly not in their league—offered three mini-puzzle games that are also chapters of a story set in a noirish, nightmarish, urban Wonderland:
Alice is Dead 1 Alice is Dead 2 Alice is Dead 3
Warning: these are not for kids. The humor is dark, there’s some graphic violence, and the mental instability (of the characters, not the player, thank you very much) appears to be growing as one goes further down the Rabbit Hole.
I did mention that it’s noir, right?
The games themselves are fun and just frustrating enough—and the little ‘voice’ that narrates, offers, advice,and tells you not to annoy the spider, is both wry and Zork-like.
I budgeted twenty minutes for the first one last night as a pre-writing activity, and just made it. I tried the second this morning, but need a little more time . . .
oooOOOooo
. . ._ _ _. . .
My husband rarely reads my blog, so I’m going to risk asking for your help in the comments:
His birthday is this Monday and I don’t have a clue what the kids can give him. They’re making him cards, but they want to give him something he can unwrap. My MIL and I went halvsies on his new laptop a few months ago for a very early gift, so I was thinking a carrying case or lapdesk or something.
My kids think this is boring and have suggested a few things that I’m sure he’d love, but none of them are possible or probable—though I cannot deny that the man is worth a new car, the woman he married has a tighter budget.
The man himself shrugs when I ask him, as has been his tradition for the 22 years I’ve known him, so that’s no help. At all.
We’re going shopping Saturday.
Any and all ideas are welcome!
oooOOOooo
Pigeon Update: one scene revised so I could proceed to the two scenes completely and sent to First Reader on Tuesday (I think—it was either really late or very early).
Thirty days to go. If I think of it as a Nanowrimo schedule, it doesn’t seem half as scary—or scary for different reasons.
Onward!
Earful of Cider 