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Updated: 02/18/05



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What's on the nightstand

"Neverwhere"
by Neil Gaiman

"The Hobbit"
by JRR Tolkien

"War and Peace"
by Leo Tolstoy (e-book)

stop sniffling

advil cold and sinus


Friday, 18 February, 2005

Today is Dad's 81st birthday! Woo hoo! Cousin Ron sent a cute e-mail already this morning:

Uncle Mark-

I was going to call you at midnight, uncle Mark, but I am falling asleep, so I will let that task be left to cousin Kay. Happy birthday! Yikes! 81? Now I have to find 81 expensive little gifts to send.

We didn't send 81 gifts, but I believe that Amazon has delivered a couple of trinkets. Hope you enjoy!

[Happy Birthday Dad.]

Speaking of birthdays, Jennifer said that her dad called her in the early evening on Wednesday in response to an e-mail she sent him. No mention of her birthday, she and John went out to dinner and returned home. The phone rang about 11:30. It was her dad, calling to apologize for forgetting her birthday. Her mom was yelling in the background, "We're the worst parents ever!" She said, "It's OK. At least Kay's Mom remembered my birthday."

[Heh.]

An update on the story about the nice girl from New Jersey who takes butcher knives on blind dates:

Bell Gowens said her sister had placed the knife in her bag Thursday night before embarking on a blind date.

"My aunt made her take it just in case," Bell Gowens said.

Fortunately, she said, the date went well.

["Fortunately." I'm sure the guy she went out with thinks so too.]

I'm always amused by the obscurity of some sports statistics: "He's the only quarterback to throw 2 or more interceptions in a playoff game when the opposing team missed their second field goal attempt." What with the cancellation [finally] of the 2004/5 professional hockey season, here's another one:

[T]he Boston Red Sox curse still lives, at least for hockey fans. When the Red Sox won the series in 1918, the following seasonís Stanley Cup playoffs were canceled because of an influenza epidemic. Then everything went along fine for 85 years, with the Sox losing and the Cup being awarded. But then, last fall, the Red Sox won another series and, sure enough, hockey fans must now again suffer a Cupless season.

[Gee, and here I thought it was the fault of the owners and players.]

So Iran says it has nuclear weapons. Russian President Vladimir Putin says they don't and he's going to "continue cooperating with Iran on its nuclear program." I suppose that's the same way that the Russians "cooperated" with Saddam in the Oil-For-Food scam. So we've got that going for us, which is nice.

But IMAO is on the job, with a primer of "Fun Facts" about Iran, including:

* According to the CIA World Factbook, Iran is slightly larger than Alaska. Who the hell do they think they are? Well, a few bombs should take care of that.

* Iran pretends to have democracy, but is really ruled by Iran's clerics. The advantage is, if you think you messed up on the butterfly ballot, it doesn't really matter.

* War with Iran would be an easy follow up to Iraq since they're right next to each other and all you'd have to do is change one letter in the war plans.

In the comments section of his blog, random m writes:

We should make a list of countries France likes, and publish it with Iraq at the top-crossed out. Whoever's second will scramble to disassociate themselves with France. Then the third in line will freak out when we move them to second.

For fun we could put Canada second, then say "oh sorry" and move them to eleventh. (It should be a top ten list.)

And Littl Stevie adds: "Bet the Iranian's are pretty damn scared of the "USS Jimmy Carter" "Attack" Submarine..."

["Kill the wabbit, kill the wabbit . . ."]

Between my coughing, Gary's upset tummy and the cat's nocturnal prowling, no one slept well last night. And unfortunately he/we are on call this weekend. Although as long as it is quiet, this might not be a bad time to catch up on sleep and not do anything.


Quote du jour:

"Ideas are like rabbits. You get a couple and learn how to handle them, and pretty soon you have a dozen."

-- John Steinbeck (1902 - 1968) US novelist

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