Multimedia Friday: Mean Kitty Song

Inspired by the scars on my hand from an encounter with my friend's overly playful cat, I decided to share "The Mean Kitty" song. Cat owners and lovers will probably find themselves nodding in bemused agreement, but regardless, it's an amusing rap and video.

More crafty goodness

It's fitting that the last post was about books, 'cause this one's about bookmarks.

Every reader needs bookmarks.

Never mind that in spite of numerous snarky or flowery or coffee-related bookmarks around the place, I still tend to grab a corner of a magazine page or a piece of napkin to mark the place in whichever of any given five books I happen to be reading. Nooooo, if you're the hoarding type like me, it's not enough to have said plethora of bookmarks. If you're the hoarding type and the crafty type and the type who's just this short of casting aside current crochet projects in a fit of boredom, your next logical step is to look up patterns to make more bookmarks.

And, if you're the crafty, hoarding, attention-challenged, always-in-search-of-a-new-diversion type, you will not be content to print off just one pattern. Or two patterns. Or even patterns for completely different projects that you will keep in mind for when there happens to be a really good yarn sale. However, your mission for the afternoon is bookmarks, and you eventually find, out of the scores of patterns on teh interwebs, a few that pique your interest and look both elegant and not overly time-consuming.

I only made one today. Second is in the works. But isn't this one purty?

I got the pattern here, if anyone reading this is into crocheting. There seemed to be a couple little glitches to the pattern, but I figured how it was supposed to go.

(No, this won't turn into a craft blog, I promise. It's just a phase.)

More books

Inspired by a temporary (I hope) writing slump and a friend's new book review blog...

Five books I've read since the last reading post:


5. New Sudden Fiction: Short-Short Stories from America and Beyond. I just finished this one tonight, about a month after I started it. If you're interested in contemporary short fiction, this is a good starting place--it's accessible, and I was only rarely tempted to skip a story. When I've read other selections of short stories, they sometimes felt too abrupt, but these stories are paced well and feel complete.

4. Kabul Beauty School: An American Woman Goes Behind the Veil, Deborah Rodriguez. I wouldn't have picked up this book if I hadn't heard the author speaking at a literary festival I went to. I was impressed with the good humor and (com)passion with which she spoke about Afghanistan, where she initially went to do humanitarian work and ended up opening a beauty school and finding a sisterhood within its wall. The book's not an in-depth study of the culture (indeed, her cultural blunders are a frequent motif), nor is it particularly literary. It is, however, heartfelt. It provides a human face beyond the news images of burkas and AK-47s.

3. Tree By Leaf, Cynthia Voigt. Sometimes it just doesn't work so well to try and visit authors favored in one's adolescence. That's all.

2. Re-Birth (or The Chrysalids), John Wyndham. Sci fi rec from my boss. Classic motif of the society suspicious of mutation, with religious fundamentalism and evolution tossed in for good measure. (No, it's not about my home state, Kansas.) Some cataclysm, likely nuclear, has set society back, and mistrust of difference has been codified into religion, with any aberration considered a Blasphemy against God Himself to be banished to the wild Fringe. Against this backdrop, the protagonist has discovered he has the ability to communicate telepathically, a difference that naturally incurs the persecution of both him and the handful of others who also have the ability. In their flight, they learn more about the people in the Fringe and the people from further beyond, who each present a different definition of what it means to be in God's image, i.e. normal. Perhaps it was the young characters and the coming-of-age aspect, but this had the feel of YA fiction. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, just an observation.

1. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, Robert Heinlein. Another rec from my boss. This one takes place in 2075 (I'm pretty sure), when the moon has, much like Australia, been colonized initially as a penal colony. Like America, though, the "Loonies" have started to bristle beneath the colonial yoke. Protagonist Man, a computer engineer, finds himself drawn into planning a revolution along with firebrand revolutionary Wyoming (who, in typical fashion, starts out as a strong and independent woman and ends up taking a back seat...), a has-been professor, and a sentient computer with a sense of humor, Mike. The politics are intricate, the society's customs fascinating, the technology impressive (seriously, the NSA has nothing on Mike's capabilities), and the humor dry ("Never explain computers to laymen," Man says at one point, "Easier to explain sex to a virgin."). In typical English-major fashion, I was intrigued by the protagonist's syntax. In short, there's a little something for every reader in this one, although I will give a heads-up: this was, for whatever reason, a time-consuming read.

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Now playing: The (International) Noise Conspiracy - Guns for Everyone
via FoxyTunes

Crafty

Because I am in the mood to show off, I'll post pictures of one of my current (and most ambitious) projects. Previously, the biggest thing I've crocheted was my cape, which hits my shins and has about a 5-foot width by the bottom. My other projects were smaller things--baby blankets (the great thing about them is that I can start out with no intended recipient, and someone will be preggers by the time they're done), scarves (small, portable, funky yarns, and fast to work up), potholders and dishcloths (simple and functional, but boring), a recycled plastic bag tote (great way to recycle and start conversation, but harder on the hands)... I think that about covers it all. I'm only talking about crochet projects here.

This project, though, is more ambitious.

I'm making a blanket for a friend who's getting hitched this summer (one of 'em, anyway... must be something in the water). I figure the colors are common enough in decorating for it to be both functional and perhaps even fit with whatever decor they may have.

A closer shot; sorry for not thinking in putting a beige blanket against a beige couch. Oh well. Heh. View the pic in full size and you can see the few cat hairs my cat contributed, and I believe, one of mine.
I think I'm about 20 rows from being done with the thing. Lucky for me it's still cool enough in the evenings, 'cause this sucker's warm.

Next on the agenda: a video tape tote bag (my co-workers thought I was joking about finally putting those exercise tapes to use), a latch hook rug, learning to tat, and if I get desperate, I can always pull out the cross stitch project that I haven't completed in over 10 years...

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Now playing: Cursive - Bad Sects
via FoxyTunes

Petticoats all a-flutter

Nature can be shameless in a classy sort of way.

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Now playing: Leftöver Crack - Soon We'll Be Dead w/World/Inferno Friendship Society
via FoxyTunes

Keeping pace with the times

When the supervisor of the writing center initially mentioned the prospect of online tutoring, I think there was talk of revolt amongst several of the more outspoken tutors. Only one of them left, though, and that was due to a combination of factors. The others have grudgingly accepted that this sort of thing is inevitable.

This spring, we made online tutoring available to a select few classes just to gauge interest and feasibility. A few bites, but no huge rush. Online will continue to be available for intersession (intense, five-day a week, two-week) courses and the summer semester. I was the only one to agree to do online tutoring for at least the intersession period. How hard can it be? It's the sort of thing I've done as faculty--look at a draft of an essay, point out what works, and address a few broad areas that still need work. The Internet is a medium I'm very comfortable with. And best of all, it means no 8:00 a.m. conferences. Sweet.

Application? I've done one this evening for a speech class (it's the first day, so this student is really on top of things). In some ways, it is easier--I can re-read it a few more times, think out what I want to say, and revise it for clarity. As long as I'm within the 24-hour window, I can do it at my convenience.

That said, I noticed a couple draw-backs. For one thing, I can't see the student's face--I can't tell if I lost him/her at the second sentence. I generally ask throughout a face-to-face conference if what I'm saying makes sense; no use explaining how to pedal a bike if someone's stuck on balance. Short of welcoming further questions, I can't get that feedback, and it certainly isn't in real time. Another shortcoming is the overall lack of physical presence--I can't pick up a scrap piece of paper to doodle a rough diagram for organization or grab a handout. Maybe I'll talk to my supervisor about making the handouts available on Blackboard so we tutors can access them remotely and send on to students as needed. Finally, it puts me as a tutor in a more directive role--more teacher than "peer" tutor. It's less give and take, more my saying "this is what you should do" instead of "here's one way to do this. Did you see how it works? Now let's see what you've got."

At present, the way I spelled them out, the negatives seem more prominent. I'm not against online tutoring; in time, I think students will come to expect such services to be available online, and we should be able to provide. I just don't think online can (or should) fully replace face-to-face. Indeed, there are some conferences, like brainstorming/coming up with topics conferences, I just can't see taking place online, short of some sort of instant messaging capability. That might be one way of working around the limitations of time lapsed communication--an imperfect one, but a start.

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Now playing: Death Cab for Cutie - Grapevine Fires
via FoxyTunes

Softcore porn for housewives

Hey, did I get your attention with that subject line?

I tried reading a paperback romance the other day. Previously, I've only flipped through them, snickering at the poor dialogue and wondering how many synonyms for "heat" the author was able to find. I'm just not the demographic those novels--to use the word loosely--are meant for. They're meant for housewives who feel neglected and/or under-appreciated, if the wish fulfillment is any indicator. Relationships always work out, in spite of any seemingly insurmountable problems or Tragic Pasts. It's all about her--there's so much licking and teasing and fondling going on (or down?), it's a wonder they ever consummate their burning, burning love, but when they do, oh, oh, it's so worth it. Babies are always wanted and usually come along with the picket fence and a wedding ring. And goodness, but the women always have cute clothes to wear.

A few notes on this particular book (title and author omitted out respect), which I quit reading after about 100 torturous pages and instead flipped through:

• Do we really still use the word "loins" in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries? Moreover, do we do so when mentally flashing back to particular moments?
  
• Blue eyes are always piercing in a hero. I dunno, but if I were the protagonist, I'd kinda wish he wore sunglasses more to avoid any Medusa-like occurrences.
• And dude, what's with the chiseled jaw? They're a dime a dozen amongst romance love interests.
  
• "She wanted desperately to hate this man, but she discovered that a thousand anguished thoughts and four bitter years hadn't erased him from her savagely beating heart."
• Do blondes flip their "golden locks" around more than women with other colors of hair? 'Cause this one sure seems to do a lot of head tossing.
• Yay for adverbs. They don't just "say" anything; they say things "icily" and "calmly" and "dangerously" and "seductively," sometimes all in rapid succession.
• "She wasn't still in love with Chandler: she couldn't still be that big a fool." Um, actually...
• Unnecessary verbiage: depending on the body parts involved, "sensually licked" hardly needs to be stated.
• Yeah, it really turns me on, too, when a guy threatens to "break [my] pretty little neck." Oooh, you manly, manly, icy-eyed stud.
• "Callie felt the flames of passion begin to burn low in the most feminine parts of her body." Woo-ee, it's starting to heat up.
• "Claimed her?" What, like a homestead?

Recent reads

I keep lists of books I read in their entirety (if I toss a book aside partway, it doesn't count). Here are the last 5, in reverse chronological order, with commentary.

5. The Flash of Lightning Behind the Mountain: New Poems, Charles Bukowski. I've meant for a while to explore Bukowski's poetry beyond the occasional random poem or pop culture allusion. I enjoyed this collection, which covers a wide range of subjects from writing and poetry to social commentary to the women he knew to mortality. His style is very accessible and colloquial, if not a tad coarse at times. While a few poems seem to clunk along a bit, so many are filled with little gems of insight. I loved the poem "feeling fairly good tonight" for these lines:

Thou shalt not fail as a writer
because the very act of writing is the best protection
from the madness of the
world.

4. The Girl in Hyacinth Blue, Susan Vreeland. This novel traces in reverse order the ownership of a (fictitious) Vermeer painting, all the way back the painter and his subject. Along the way, the author explores the varying attitudes toward art and its role in everyday life, as well as how radically different meanings people can ascribe to the same piece of art. The book read like a series of short stories, and I clipped through it in an evening. It was interesting, but not earth-shattering by any means. Good escapist lit.

3. Messenger, Lois Lowry. Juvenile fiction (if it has chapters, it goes on the list). The reaction I seem to get re: Lois Lowry is something along the lines of, "Yeah, I know it's children's literature, but it's good." This is usually in regards to The Giver, a frequently challenged and thought-provoking book that can be read and re-read; I readily admit that I get more out of it now than I did the first time I read it. I'm digressing a bit. Sorry. I recently re-read The Giver and its companion novel Gathering Blue, and Messenger bridges the two and ties up loose ends and questions from the first two. Unfortunately, it ties up too many loose ends and almost, almost feels contrived. I might forgive this in another author, but Lowry set the bar high with the first two. Go read them instead.

2. Oryx and Crake, Margaret Atwood. This was one of the most disturbing, unsettling works of sci fi I've read in a while. And I mean that in a good way. As is the way with a lot of dystopic fiction, the pursuit of progress has backfired massively. In this case, genetic manipulation and the pursuit of perpetual youth have led to an extermination of the human population as we know it, leaving behind only "Snowman" and the childlike race he watches over. There's also a bit of a love story--triangle, actually--here, but it's the rise of enigmatic Crake that holds the narrative together. I highly recommend this one.

1. Straight Man, Richard Russo. Academic satire, recommended by a former prof. English departments, apparently, are a rich source for satire. The department chaired by Hank Devereaux Jr. is dysfunctional,--to say the least--paranoid, and petty. They are expecting budget cuts and are convinced their chair somehow has compiled a list of lay-offs. Hank's inability to give a straight, serious answer, as well as his contrarian nature don't help matters any. I... didn't really like this one. It seemed to lack the bite that fellow satirist David Lodge captured, relying instead on bodily humor and one-liners. Go read Nice Work or Small World instead if you'd like to see some real overeducated twits hoisted by their petards.

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Now playing: David Rovics - Anonymous / The Beggin'
via FoxyTunes

Sunday Scribblings: Telephone

I've been remiss about posting Sunday Scribblings the last few weeks. So this week's prompt, "telephone" compels me to write something.

When I was a graduate teaching assistant, my second semester, I had a really good class. They were enthusiastic and willing to debate anything at the drop of a hat, and I often found the 50 minute classes flying by. They were, obviously, very communicative--some more so than others. Much more so.

At the beginning of the semester, I took time to go over ways to contact me, stressing the importance of communicating with their instructor. Missing an assignment due to a family emergency was a whole lot different from ditching Friday classes because of Thirsty Thursday, but without communication, I couldn't know the difference.

One student was very diligent about informing me of his whereabouts and progress. Five minutes before class, I'd get a call, informing me he was in the writing center, making last minute changes or else he had had an appointment in another city and would be late. Late is late, and unless it was a school-sponsored absence or tardiness, it still went down in the record book, but bless his heart, he kept me informed of what seemed like his every move.

Here's the point where I mention one other relevant detail: I shared a phone line with three other GAs, and whoever was quickest on the draw would catch it. I, erm, often was not swift to pick up the phone. Willingly so.

After several such calls, a fellow GA finally asked if it was the same student who kept asking for Ms. Twit. I answered in the affirmative. She was, I think, somewhat in awe and definitely amused. I told her that the student must've had my office number programmed into his speed dial.

One afternoon, I was holding tutorials. Inevitably, the students who sign up for 8:00 a.m. tutorial slots show up at 7:45, and the last few afternoon appointments run 10 minutes late. My communicative student was, I believe, the last one for the afternoon, and I wanted to go and grab a late lunch.

He called, running late. I grudgingly agreed to wait, as it was the last day of tutorials, it wasn't exactly like he was a complete no-show, and I was/am a bit of a softie. Five minutes passed. A call. Something came up, he was so sorry, but he was back on track, again, so sorry, Ms. Twit, but he's on the way with the building in sight.

I decided to run down the hall and snag a couple Starbursts from the English department to tide me over until I ate (Starbursts, coffee, and Mountain Dew were about 50% of my grad school nutritional intake). When I got back, my fellow GA was trying to hold back a grin.

You just missed a call from your student, she told me. He wanted to let you know he's on the stairs now.

Yep, I'm pretty sure my office number must've been on speed dial.

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Now playing: Tori Amos - Marys of the Sea
via FoxyTunes

Subversion makes me smile

As a point of reference, the building behind and to the left is the Fox Newscorp building.

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Now playing: Keith Caputo - What Have You Done
via FoxyTunes

Multimedia Friday: Cover the kiddies' ears for this one...

I've decided to share my music again. The song I'm going to share is one that never fails to put a grin on my face.

I became a fan of Against Me! courtesy of Last.fm. Their music resides on the punk-folk spectrum, and vocalist Tom Gabel's got one of those gravelly voices I seem to like. They've got a healthy dose of politics in many lyrics, but they're also able to have some fun.

The song I'm sharing is "Unprotected Sex with Multiple Partners." I love the extended metaphor within the song; it's not about X-rated activities, per se. Here are the first few lines:

Everyone's a critic, but hey, they really respect your talent.
Have your manager call my manager, and we'll make records together.
At this level of success in entertainment, there are certain connotations.
It's a "you give, we take" relation.
No, the kids wouldn't understand it.

If you're interested in hearing it, I've uploaded it in mp3 format here. Again, comment if taking. And if I get absolutely no response or indication of interest, I'll discontinue my experiment in pir sharing music.

The grass is always greener

When I'm stuck in the rut of daily routine, I itch to do something different, go someplace else, do atypical things. And then I get my wishes. And then I get cranky, wishing for the familiar.

The unfamiliar has its advantages, though. Familiarity breeds contempt. If I lived in Chicago, I probably wouldn't find the sight of tulip beds in the medians of busy streets and at bus stops the least bit interesting.

And if I lived in another big city, chances are I could walk by an oasis like this 9/11 memorial park without a second thought.

And a sight like this might even bore me.
Being a tourist has its perks. I mean, I even got my annual sunburn early this year. But I haven't had a decent cup of coffee in about a week. Tomorrow, tomorrow.

Why I won't be switching to decaf any time soon

Scene: Hotel, about 9:30 a.m.

Dramatis Personae: Artist Aunt, Grandmother, and Yours Truly

Me: (putters around and sets up coffee in 4-cup machine)

Grandmother: (crochets)

Aunt: (calls desk to find out about airport shuttle)

Me: (messily throws belongings back in luggage and runs down to donut shop across the street, returning in under 5 minutes)

Grandmother: (appreciates donut)

Aunt: (munches on gluten-free cupcake)

Me: (notices coffee pot) Why's the water clear? I swear I put the coffee in.

Grandmother: Did you pour the water in the top?

Me: . . .Oh.

Grandmother and Aunt: (cackle hysterically)

Country mouse

I feel like a wide-eyed country bumpkin in Chicago. I regret now not visiting my cousin here before she graduated (the occasion for this visit), but on the positive side, she's planning to settle here, so I'm thinking another visit--one longer than 48 hours--is in order. There's so much to see, so many places I'd love to explore, so many people milling around. Everything's so awesome, and I can't remotely begin to take it all in. I interrupt myself and trail off mid-sentence at the sight of some novelty. Even the mundane makes me excited.

Public transport excites me. Yeah, I know it's strange, but one thing this tree hugger doesn't like is that she lives in a metropolis without enough population density to support a viable public transportation. In a day and a half here, I've ridden several taxis and a couple buses.

Even better, though, was traveling on foot. My grandmother and aunt, with whom I'm sharing a room (I've had quieter roommates... and they woke me with their yacking at 8:30 this morning...), were tired and wanted to head back early after dinner. I took them back to the room and grabbed my computer and a tote bag, to set off in search of souvenirs and better Internet access. Score on the first, and fie, Starbucks, fie on thee. But I'm getting ahead of myself. We've been around the area a few times, so my inner map was pretty decent, and I remembered where the Osco was, about 4 or 5 blocks away.

The plan was this: hoof it to the store, then head back to the Starbucks just catty-corner to the hotel. First part went off without a hitch. Found the souvenirs I wanted, bought some granola bars for the rest of my travel, and even decided spontaneously that I would purchase one of their $1 re-usable store tote bags as both souvenir and practical item. Local store's bag = boring. Bag from another city = exciting. I headed back, only to find out the Starbucks was closed. I could have just gone back to the room. I didn't; there was a Starbucks across from the store, which meant doubling back. Why not? The relatives were still at the restaurant, knocking back margaritas, and my roomies were probably asleep.

I went back by way of a parallel street. I knew if I got lost I could ask for directions, but mostly, I trusted my sense of direction. It's almost intuitive and rarely fails me. Bonus find on this route: a Trader Joe's store, which we don't have where I live. Souvenirs there: herbal tea and another tote bag. I'm an old woman at heart, OK? But, yeah, Starbucks. I avoid them like the plague at home, favoring my own local/smaller chain haunts on general anti-big business priniciple, but they're on nearly every freaking corner here, and I wanted coffee and Internet access that doesn't spazz out every few minutes. The coffee was decent for Starbucks issue, but the Internet would cost me. Forget that. I just walked around more. There were street musicians to see, aggressive taxis to avoid at intersections, beds of tulips to admire, tourists to laugh at (yes, I do see the hypocrisy of that. They were just all clutching their fancy cameras and huddled like sheep around their guide, who was telling them not to wander off... *shrug*)... I suppose the novelty would wear off, but this country mouse would like to live in a big city for a spell.

It was a wonderful outing. I am always amazed at how easy it is to be alone in the midst of so many people; indeed, the larger the crowd, the more solitary you are. Anonymity can be liberating, and tonight, between my adventuring and the brisk yet comfortable evening air and the sense of freedom of being able to get to the places I wanted powered by my own two feet, I was exuberant. Sharing it with a friend would have been nice, but it can be and was an exquisite bit of solitude.

Seriously?

My aunt told me the Wi-fi access was 10 bucks at this hotel. I silently scoffed in derision. What place would charge for something that could be gained for free at the nearest McD's or any of the 5 Starbucks locations within a stone's throw? Turns out this one does. Hmph. I found another connection. After all, I had to update my blog. I'm tired, though, so I'll just post a few of the pictures that I was able to snag from the moving train.

Nifty method of travel, the train, but it's time-consuming. It has its perks, though, like leg room. No seriously, I took a picture to prove that there's still such a thing in contemporary methods of transport.
And this next one I just thought was nifty. Can you spot the smoke against the clouds?

If the clouds weren't a tip-off, last night saw a lot of storms and bad weather. Lots of rain, but a smidge late for April showers, methinks.

You see a lot of these in the Midwest:

Finally, we got here, where I will be for two hectic days before going off to another big city:

Wanna play a game of "name that skyline?"

Neither here nor there

Travel messes around with my head. I'll be out of town, though not without Internet access, until next Thursday. I've been so scatter-brained today, it's not funny (unless you've interacted with me and found my ADD-esque qualities to be amus--ooh, where'd my kitty go...?).

So random bullets of crap:

• I made a list. I, perpetually unorganized Twit, made a list to stave off the conviction that I'm certainly forgetting something.
• Scratch used book stores. Thrift stores are the shit as far as cheap books are concerned. I was pleased to find books that were not just churned out en masse to fulfill desperate housewives' fantasies. And cheap, too, so I can go there with impunity. On the other hand, I can go there with impunity. Hmm.
  
• I'm pretty sure I am forgetting something.
• A vast bulk of my nutritional intake today consisted of coffee and snickerdoodles. I got a lot done. Connection?
  
• My luggage makes me laugh--several cords for charging things share space with scissors and a started crochet project. And a couple books. Wouldn't want to run out.
  
• My laptop bag's kinda funny, too--three books and a notepad will reside next to said laptop. I suppose this means I am successfully able to bridge the gap between hyper-technologization (Ha! I apparently coined a word) and tradition?
  
• I misplaced my list, so I'm not sure if I'm forgetting something on the list or if I'm forgetting something I forgot to put on the list.
• I should be heading out in approximately 6 hours, which means I should be awake in 5 and will likely not sleep for another 2.
  
• I forgot what I was going to say for this bullet point. Which reminds me...

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Now playing: Thrice - Kings Upon the Main
via FoxyTunes

Worth the wait?

Regardless of where you live, you've probably seen this story sometime on some local news station: a big rock act is coming to town and tickets just went on sale. Or maybe it's Christmas time, and big box chains have just received shipments of whatever overpriced toy is the hot item for the year. Or maybe a famous author just churned out a new installment in an overhyped series.

Whatever the event or product, it's not really the point of the story. The story is about the poor saps who camped out the night before or else simply lined up at ungodly early hours. It's going to be an amazing concert, and I can't wait--I just want to get the best seats. We've been here since last night, but it'll be worth it. Totally. I laughed at those shmucks. What on earth could be worth standing in line for hours for, let alone one hour? From my throne of superiority, I looked down upon them with derision.

Turns out I just never found a cause worth my conviction. Until tonight. I stood my ground for... ice cream. Hey, for 31 cents per scoop, wouldn't you?

The line sprawled a good four shops down, and like most lines, it was a scraggly, sprawling affair--were the people actually lined one by one, the line would probably have extended to the next block. They were a rowdy bunch, too--couples with their pooches, parents with kids who were getting antsy with impatience, groups of med students (the only people I've ever heard discussing gonnorhea and syphilis in public), and assorted people standing around texting or talking on their phones (one girl had even brought her handheld Nintendo). Luckily, there were two public safety vehicles keeping an eye on things, as well as the cops who circled around. I understand their reasoning; after all, people might've engaged in fisticuffs if the shop ran out of chocolate ice cream, and there was that shooting at the intersection two weeks ago or so...

I'm pretty sure ice cream wasn't involved in that incident.

But ice cream, especially inexpensive ice cream, is totally worth the sacrifice of chancing personal safety and dignity and an hour to obtain. I get the conviction now.

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Now playing: Muse - Thoughts of a Dying Atheist
via FoxyTunes