Saturday, July 29, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Aside from Potato-Related Contexts...
Am I alone in thinking the expression "keep your eyes peeled" needlessly evokes a disturbingly graphic and unwholesome image in the minds of the vigilant?
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Please, Keep Your Comments To Yourselves
Sorry, that was just me lashing out with sarcasm. It's a defense mechanism.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Paddington, Don't Go.
I love you, Paddington. I want to buy all your books. I promise to write you that poem. There's just some other stuff I've got to take care of first. We'll get through this, Paddington.
My Art Professor, on Having His Neighbor Drive Him to the Hospital After He Broke His Hand as a Child:
"My parents were Christian Scientists, so thank God they weren't home."
Monday, July 10, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Puzzles, Part Four of a Three Part Series Told in Two Parts and an Additional Part or, The Additional Part
Yesterday I went to Denio's Roseville Farmers Market and Auction, not to see what was new, mind you, but to accompany a dear friend in need of a new pair of stolen Converse. However, while my friend Josh, who will remain "un"named, was pursuing his particular podiaic preferences, I happened into a nearby store that sold used books and really used books, and various items that probably have collectable value to people who save old q-tips and reuse Big Mac containers.
At first I thought I had gone in because it was hot enough outside to fire an ashtray in your hands, but once I got there I realized that it was fate. This store sold used puzzles.
My search for the perfect puzzle met with early resistance, as I had to step aside twice for the same elderly gentleman to shuffle by and because most of the puzzles promised little more than bald eagles or the daily life of the Amish for what would amount to days of puzzling efforts. But just as I was beginning to give in to the mounting tidal wave of despair, there called out to me from between the Eagle with Trout and Whimsical Kittens, "Zoos & Aquariums of North America" in all its 1000 piece glory.
The title of the piece sat just above a map in the puzzle's center, right where Canada would usually go, and a wise-eyed and aged Panda and his accompaniment of bamboo served to block out Mexico, while the United States of America shown proudly amid a halo of fierce and exotic animals. The border of the piece was a colorful display of zoo and aquarium posters, including the Waikiki Aquarium (home to endangered Hawaiian Monk Seals) and the Denver Zoo (one of the world's largest areas for monkeys and apes). I was pretty excited about paying the $1.75 for this bad boy.
Today I didn't have a whole lot to do. I did some reading, a little bit of moping, and a fair amount of sweating in bed and throwing up. I'm calling the doctor tomorrow. However, in the meantime I also did a lot of thinking about my puzzle while watching the second half of Jurassic Park on A&E.
As an experienced builder of used puzzles, I knew it would be a foolish waste of time to begin building the puzzle without confirming that all 1000 pieces were present. And so I counted. In less than an hour I had all four corner pieces accounted for, and probably 90 percent of the edge pieces in a separate bag, and then I began counting. With every ten pieces I would mark a tally on the bag and then watch a Velociraptor eat someone. After a while of this the raptors began opening doors and I decided I would rather watch Jeff Goldblum stutter than count and categorize scraps of cardboard, so I temporarily ended the count at 170.
Temporarily, that is, until I put the top back on the puzzle box. Temporarily, that is, until I noticed the sticker on the cover, the sticker marked "1 pc missing."
I set the box down, took a sip of water and glared at the box while Laura Dern stumbled around in air ducts and T-Rex decimated the main lobby. I turned off the movie during a commercial and never bothered to see the survivors off the island, even though Jurassic Park was on three times today and I watched the kitchen scene twice. I probably won't even care if Jurassic Park IV sucks. In my opinion, since things have become clear in the last couple of hours, the zoos and aquariums of North America suck.
At first I thought I had gone in because it was hot enough outside to fire an ashtray in your hands, but once I got there I realized that it was fate. This store sold used puzzles.
My search for the perfect puzzle met with early resistance, as I had to step aside twice for the same elderly gentleman to shuffle by and because most of the puzzles promised little more than bald eagles or the daily life of the Amish for what would amount to days of puzzling efforts. But just as I was beginning to give in to the mounting tidal wave of despair, there called out to me from between the Eagle with Trout and Whimsical Kittens, "Zoos & Aquariums of North America" in all its 1000 piece glory.
The title of the piece sat just above a map in the puzzle's center, right where Canada would usually go, and a wise-eyed and aged Panda and his accompaniment of bamboo served to block out Mexico, while the United States of America shown proudly amid a halo of fierce and exotic animals. The border of the piece was a colorful display of zoo and aquarium posters, including the Waikiki Aquarium (home to endangered Hawaiian Monk Seals) and the Denver Zoo (one of the world's largest areas for monkeys and apes). I was pretty excited about paying the $1.75 for this bad boy.
Today I didn't have a whole lot to do. I did some reading, a little bit of moping, and a fair amount of sweating in bed and throwing up. I'm calling the doctor tomorrow. However, in the meantime I also did a lot of thinking about my puzzle while watching the second half of Jurassic Park on A&E.
As an experienced builder of used puzzles, I knew it would be a foolish waste of time to begin building the puzzle without confirming that all 1000 pieces were present. And so I counted. In less than an hour I had all four corner pieces accounted for, and probably 90 percent of the edge pieces in a separate bag, and then I began counting. With every ten pieces I would mark a tally on the bag and then watch a Velociraptor eat someone. After a while of this the raptors began opening doors and I decided I would rather watch Jeff Goldblum stutter than count and categorize scraps of cardboard, so I temporarily ended the count at 170.
Temporarily, that is, until I put the top back on the puzzle box. Temporarily, that is, until I noticed the sticker on the cover, the sticker marked "1 pc missing."
I set the box down, took a sip of water and glared at the box while Laura Dern stumbled around in air ducts and T-Rex decimated the main lobby. I turned off the movie during a commercial and never bothered to see the survivors off the island, even though Jurassic Park was on three times today and I watched the kitchen scene twice. I probably won't even care if Jurassic Park IV sucks. In my opinion, since things have become clear in the last couple of hours, the zoos and aquariums of North America suck.
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