"Life is shitty and it's not fair"
- Charlene Rasmussen, who knows
Friday, November 12, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
On the bright side, I'm actually reading a book...
"When the PR guy and his silly girlfriend went off to dance around the Midsummer pole in front of the general store on the other side of the island, he stayed behind with his herring and his aquavit in the cockpit of the M-30, shooting the breeze with his old school pal."
I know it's nitpicky (yes, like the "criteria" thing...you may be noticing a pattern by now), but while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo I'm hearing in my head the voice of the Swedish Chef. Somehow the translation manages to be loopy and dorky all at once, like my onetime German Lit professor who regaled us with a Book of Boners (apparently in, like, 1928, "boner" was slang for a joke or pun).
The silver lining is that, if I am complaining about a book, it means I am reading a book. This was my end-of-robotics-season gift to myself. And a book goofily translated into Euro-English is still better than just about anything I can think of.
I know it's nitpicky (yes, like the "criteria" thing...you may be noticing a pattern by now), but while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo I'm hearing in my head the voice of the Swedish Chef. Somehow the translation manages to be loopy and dorky all at once, like my onetime German Lit professor who regaled us with a Book of Boners (apparently in, like, 1928, "boner" was slang for a joke or pun).
The silver lining is that, if I am complaining about a book, it means I am reading a book. This was my end-of-robotics-season gift to myself. And a book goofily translated into Euro-English is still better than just about anything I can think of.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The toilet gods are angry.
So I'm lying on the couch (which never happens, but I'm sick today and trying not to be a total wreck for tomorrow's all-day robotics competition)(so I will have the necessary mental fortitude to deal with ten-year-old boys crying on my shoulders when they don't win)(which they have not a snowball's chance in hell of doing) attempting to be unconscious when I hear a loud ga-GLURG ga-GLURG ga-GLURG coming from the bathroom. Upon investigation, I find that all the water in the toilet has mysteriously disappeared. Feeling like the heroine in a campy horror B-movie (think "Alligator"), I reach over and flush the toilet, and a large geyser of water shoots up and splashes back down.
This is as far as the current installment of the indoor-plumbing saga has gotten, but I will keep you posted, unless I am eaten by a mutant sewer-dwelling reptile.
In other news, nothing I can say or do serves to convince Owen that God didn't intend boogers as an anytime snack.
This is as far as the current installment of the indoor-plumbing saga has gotten, but I will keep you posted, unless I am eaten by a mutant sewer-dwelling reptile.
In other news, nothing I can say or do serves to convince Owen that God didn't intend boogers as an anytime snack.
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