Right back atchya, little buddy.

Dear Gulliver,

I too entreat you and your more-than-tinctures of holier-than-thou vicelessness (yep, I can make shit up too) will likewise not presume to come into my sight.  You make my flesh crawl, to again use your own turn of phrase.  Get bent.

Kindest Regards,

PS.  Yes, of course.  It’s entirely possible that I just don’t get it.  I probably should have read your tale with a hearty helping of Cliff’s Notes, or Spark’s Notes, or whatever the kids are using these days.  But thanks to wikipedia and the interwebs, I think it more likely that I get it just barely enough to know I despise how you say it.

PPS.  I bet your wife thinks you stink, too.


I hope that wasn’t your million-dollar idea.

Driving into work this morning, I found myself following one of those cars that’s extra loud on purpose.  I have no idea what this technique is called.  I assume it has something to do with the muffler, but for the life of me I can’t figure out WHY anyone would want to do this.  Hey, look at me!  My car is loud.  Isn’t that cool?  Aren’t I cool?  (No and no.)  Anyhow, the guy’s not driving overly aggressively or anything, but even though we’re in the fast lane and it’s pretty clear to me that the slow lane’s not going to allow him to advance past the cars ahead of us, he changes lanes and gives it a shot.  No dice.  So the fast lane, that I’m still in, is moving slightly faster than the slow lane (I know, right?  Shocking how that actually occasionally works as it’s supposed to!), and he ends up getting back in the fast lane right behind me.  I look back at him in the rear-view mirror and see his brilliant decal or sticker or whatever, placed at the top of his windshield so when you look back you see his most fervent wish:

Really, dude?  Does that work?  Because I think it really just makes you look like a really earnest dick, and probably you are.  I can’t believe that gives you an advantage, unless you have a middle-finger fetish.  For the record, I refrained.  However, this will not be the case should I see him again.  Dick.

Also good for fortune cookies

No thank you, Amazon.  I don’t think I need to coin a PayPhrase, I don’t come here that often.  However, please allow me to pause to laugh heartily at your suggestion:

Amy’s Complicated Passion


Sorry, still laughing. 

Ahhh.  Really, good one. 

UPDATE:  It gets so much better, even!  Other suggestions include, but are not limited to:  Conceivable Complicity.  Complicated Visibility!  Controversial Features.  Amy’s Best Impulse!  Amy’s Quick Heat.  Amy’s Lengthy Training!  VAST COIL?!  Okay, this may only be hilarious to me because I can somewhat see that the odd assortment of books and other merchandise in my cart and/or on my wish list actually sort of does suggest these terms, but Amy’s Delicate Property?  Amy’s Refined Position?  Amy’s Silvery Warmth?  You’re killing me here, killing me.  Widespread Attributes!  Amy’s Expensive Skills!  Maybe I am devolving even more than I realized, but I think trashy romance novel writers the world over ought to consider Amazon’s PayPhrase suggestion generator before they bother consulting a thesaurus. 

Grace in Small Things

  1. A new thing we can cook (risotto)
  2. Mushrooms
  3. That recipes exist and I can, uh, read them
  4. The way Dexter seems to think a snowball is the greatest thing, like, ever
  5. That 2009 didn’t kill me, and so must have made me stronger.  Right?  Wait.  That seems terribly unfair.  2009 definitely had its highlights (I’ve been out of the country!  Other than to Canada!), it just didn’t end on a super high note, so I’m not exactly mourning its passing or wishing it wasn’t over and done with.  May your 2010 meet and exceed all expectations.