Random Thursday: In a Random Mood

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

Look what I found in a folder on my desktop when I was trying to find my original draft of chapter seventeen!

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How to make Sewing Fun Again

Just take the arc reactor out of the cryhole, blue line it, attach it to the bobbinator, and pop out the dilithium crystal so you don’t abuse the quaffle with the uppydowny or snap the snitch when you let ‘er rip with the flounce attachment.

Wow . . . that sounds way more suggestive than I’d intended.

Then again, it is supposed to be more fun, so . . .

(one of you sent me this—who?)

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Save the Death Bats!

Because pollinators are so very important to our ecosystem, the U.S. now has a National Pollinator Health Strategy.

I am 100% behind this, especially if we can get some government power (such as it is) behind saving bees and bats.

However . . .

. . . it occurs to me that while this fuzzy yellow guy is clearly a major contributor to the process of pollination,
not to mention absolutely adorable,
as many bats are,
he is also caked with pollen,
which makes him one of the deadliest creatures in the world,
to those of us with sinus problems.

The Ciiiiiiircle of Liiiiiiife . . .

(Cha Cha shared this on Facebook for serious reasons, which I subverted for a cheap laugh—unless you clicked the image to look at the National Pollinator Health Strategy, which would make me a marketing genius . . . and also feel less guilty)

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Sanford and Son were . . .  British?

That’s . . . weird.

I wonder if Elizabeth knew?

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Hey, Mike!

The man always had to have the last word, didn’t he?

If the rest of you want to know why I think Mr. Blanc’s gravestone is relevant, check this out.

And then do yourself a solid and go through the rest of Mike Allegra’s archives—
some of his stories have moved me to tears.

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Which Horseman of the Apocalypse are You?

Me?  I’m Procrastination.  Sorry I’m late . . .

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 I’d Tap That

But I’d fall down. A lot.

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Random Thursday: Random Ranting Iambic

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

It’s only fair: I did one on Bacon.

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I was going to make some kind of parallel
with the perils of downsizing without adjusting one’s expectations,
but that’s sort of the definition of Fitzgerald, so . . .

(Thanks for the reassurance, Andy!  Ook Eek!)

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Beautifully Written, but Still Statutory

I feel the same way about Romeo & Juliet that I do about The Giving Tree.

Since that little nerve is already starting to tick in my left eyelid,
I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

(Thanks, Kev–I needed that!)

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Who’s in Primary?

Lay on, Mr. Leibowitz.

And damned be him that first cries, “I’ve heard enough!”

(My husband sent me this to celebrate baseball season.  Huzzah?)

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If He Had . . .

. . . .we’d be using it right now.

Kind of frightening, right?

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If you ever encounter someone who wonders aloud why Shakespeare isn’t translated into modern English so people can understand it
inform them that Shakespeare actually wrote in modern English
and slap a copy of the Canterbury Tales into their hands.

After they ask you why you’ve given them a Dutch doorstop,
take another big linguistic step back
and hit ’em upside the head with a untranslated copy of Beowulf
and send ’em to the theater to see Midsummer Night’s Dream.

(I might be a little testy today . . .)

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To Edit or Not to Edit

You have to wonder . . .

“Bums in seats.”

Well . . . yeah.

Random Thursday: Random Acts of Espionage

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

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Sad . . . But True

And then I forget to take it out of my pocket before I do laundry
and immediately go back to feeling like a total idiot.

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Contractual Random Science Pun

(Thanks, Kev!)

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 Crying  U.N.C.L.E.

I’m pretty sure my childhood adoration of the Men from the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement is responsible for my current love for the Agents of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. originally aired the decade before I was born but I watched all the episodes in syndication and I even own some of the books, gleaned from dusty bookshops and flea markets.

I am permanently in love with David McCallum, who played Illya Kurakin, the pragmatic Russian counterpart to Robert Vaughn’s Napoleon Solo, who was just this side of too smooth and debonair.

And now, Guy Ritchie is making a movie, starring Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer.

Is that really going to work?

 Yeah.  I think it will.

(My husband tells me that MeTV is airing the original show on Sunday evenings, if you’re interested)

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Ever get the feeling that your life is the surveillance equivalent of counting sheep?

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The Woman From SPY

Melissa McCarthy is a good actress, but her script sense is hit or miss.

I think it has potential . . . maybe?

Random Thursday: Eternal Random of a Spotty Mind

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

If you want coherent awesomeness, back up to yesterday’s post and read what people who are capable of coherent awesomeness have to say.

You want a look at the bits and pieces that shuffled themselves to the surface of my aching brain in time to be tossed into a post while I squinted balefully at the screen through one of my ever-delightful sinus headaches, read on.

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She Trifectaed that Verbiage

Word(s).

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For the Knitters who Cook

Or vice versa.

Please note that this doesn’t work quite so well
if your household includes a gerbil,
as the gerbil will hold prior claim to every, single cardboard tube
in the house during the course of its lifetime.

Just ask my kid.

(My husband sent me this—I think he may be warming up to my stash, if you know what I mean.)

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It’s a Con!  It’s  Trap!  It’s a Time Suck!

Physicsgames.net is a great place to
lose a few hours
learn about the valuable, practical applications of physics in a fun way,
like popping little gluey guys  as they slide into a series of distillation beakers
(Yeah, I don’t know either—must be a physicist thing).

Or building Fantastic Contraptions.

In this game, you take wheels, rods, magnets, and other objects from the top of the screen . . .

to build a contraption in the blue workspace that will deliver the pink ball to the goal space . . .

Like so:

Sometimes you can even keep your contraption from falling over.

And I do mean you—I never managed it.

But it was a lot of fun trying!

Let me know which level has you cursing my name.

That’s how I like to keep score.

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But then again . . .

At first, I was bouncing in my seat saying,

“YES!!! Tolkien, Prachett, Lewis, Doyle!”

 

But then I thought, “Stephen King. Clive Barker . . .  Anne Coulter.”

And then I had to go lie down with the covers over my head,

clutching a copy of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’s Magic.

Any thoughts?

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Similar Enough

A few people I know (Hi, John!  Hi, Katya!  Hi, liligriff!)

are currently tackling the Silmarillion,

which may be a book I’d want to live in

(see above)

but not necessarily read again

(unless insomnia becomes a problem).

But my friends are made of sterner stuff,

and to help them along their epic . . . Epic . . .

I’m offering them someone else’s cheat sheet.

You’re welcome!

Random Thursday: Holiday Notes and Some Random Flashes of Urim

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā): the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s been sent by friends or has otherwise stumbled upon this week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as sitting down and creating actual content.

Chag urim sameach, y’all—and Merry Last Week of Frantic Shopping For That One Impossible Person You Pulled For the Family Exchange.

Have a random mixed bag o’ holiday!

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Turnabout is Scientific Play . . . Or Something

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Sugar Plum Jamming

Dads + Holiday Jumpers + Dubstep =
My New Favorite Christmas Commercial

The music is available for downloading, somewhere, too—check the YouTube info.

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Handel with Care

Last year, our church choir attempted to sing the “Hallelujah Chorus”
at the Christmas Eve service.

We worked really hard, learned those parts—
even brought in a couple of stunt sopranos.

This Christmas Eve, we were going to give “For Unto Us a Child is Born” a try.

But then we were told that instead of singing,
the choir will be voicing the lines of the children
performing in the Christmas Pageant Sermon,
which is titled,”The Best Christmas Present Ever”.

Sunny and I are a Cabbage Patch Kid.

I can only assume that the Chapter Office of Westminster Abbey
placed a call to our church secretary,
requesting that we not set Handel spinning in his grave again this year,
as it quite disrupted the midnight services over there.

We’re very, very sorry.

Just out of curiosity . . . Where is Bach buried?

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No, YOU light the shamash

Menorasaurus Rex.

Get ’em right here.

(Thanks, Watson—I’m saving the rest for next week!)

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It’s Not Just a Gig, It’s An Adventure

Seems the  Sideboys vocal ensemble
had a few “problems” with their sheet music at the 2010 U.S. Navy Band Holiday Concert.

Remember men:
The only easy harmony was the last one.