Effluvia

The Onion on the DiCaprio/Clinton affair. The next-to-last guy's response is priceless.

I want to see this, because the thought of Alex Kingston as a South African bad guy makes my stomach all fluttery.

She sounds a little goofy, but she's cute. Meet Ananova.

I've been listening to Orbital today, courtesy of a cool coworker. Earlier this week it was Groove Armada from the same guy. Both albums make me want to open a record store, just so I could play these albums in the background while people shop.

Courtesy of Beth - tell me about buying a house.

Arsenal is playing in the UEFA Cup finals. Go gunners!

Bygone Days
Uncensored!

75 YEARS AGO
April 21, 1925

A new school history of Tennessee by S. E. Scates, professor at the West Tennessee Normal, has been published.

Mr. Scates' previous work has included Watching Paint Dry and Accounting: The Whole Story.

Siobhanorama

Siobhan has gone home for the weekend. I'm sure, wherever she is, that she is doing interesting things and will tell us about them later.

Ride With The Chauffeur

I ate lunch yesterday at a Chinese place in the same loose string of strip malls and office parks I work in. I want to call in Red China - which is pretty funny - but it's actually called Red Sun Buffet. I ate a plateful. A kind of schizophrenic buffet, with moo goo gai pan and sweet and sour pork and french fries and jello. And soft serve ice cream. Something for everyone, I suppose.

Then shopping at Target. You know, you can get anything you need at Target. It's like Wal-Mart with better clothes.

I always get a perverse thrill out of checking out condoms through the line of the sweetest little old lady I can find. I know I'm not going to blush or stammer - hell, I'm getting laid - but it's fun to see what reaction I'll get. Sometimes they hesitate, then stuff it in an bag. Sometimes no reaction at all. One time a lady winked at me.

"Ah, you're a player!" her wink seemed to say.

I washed my car yesterday, and by god it needed it. I haven't really washed it since I got it, besides driving it through the thing at Exxon, and my dashboard was gray with dust.

I used one of those foam-brush thingies, which is only marginally satisfying. There must be some art to using one, 'cause I always tend to leave random streaks of dirt all over the car. I did an okay job yesterday, and I vacuumed, too, which the car seriously needed. Not that it really matters. Lately I've been parking next to an under-construction subdivision - a thin layer of yellow dirt covers my car every afternoon.

Sonya was home late last night, after having her nails done and buying us Chick-Fil-A for dinner. Unfortunately, she'd taken some drugs for an impending migraine, so she crashed shortly after arrival. Therefore I had a quiet evening at home by myself, assembling documents for a possible stab at mortgage pre-approval and doing some freelance work.

My coworker (whom I'll call Buck for the duration) and I continued our reigns as Kings of Slack today. We (joined by his wife) took a three hour lunch and saw U-571. Bill Paxton - the greatest! It was fairly entertaining. Movies set on submarines, as a rule, are good. It was no Hunt For Red October, but it was a good way to spend a lunch hour.

I went downstairs to get a loaf of bread after I got home today. I was wearing my Arsenal kit.

"Hey man," this great big guy at the store said, "that's a cool jersey. Dreamcast and Nike on the same shirt! Where'd you get it?"

"It's an English football jersey," I told him, "I got it in England. It's different - you don't see one walking down the street every day."

"Yeah, it's unique," he said, "I gotta get me one of those. Okay."

I didn't say it was an interesting story.

Tonight, Todd Snider at the Daisy. If you need us, the Wife and I will be rockin' on Beale Street.