Legend of Link

If you are not reading DCeiver like it's your new religion every Wednesday and Thursday to know all about LOST and how good LOST is and read his funny funny takes on LOST and then agree with him on everything he says about LOST, then you might have a plate in your head or something. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I'm just saying - you should probably be reading it.

Mantitoba!!!

The first picture used to illustrate this story is pretty awesome.

Black Keys Nov. 12, will you join us?

Where I resurrect old favorites, thanks to the Harriet Miers blog.

I've wondered the same thing myself, actually. Mostly becuse the guy in the picture looks EXACTLY like one of the Decker brothers who I went to high school with. Which brother? Doesn't really matter, they all had that same County Seat sweater.

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So, my Tuesday night was relatively excellent (AND educational!- "Hey, LJG, who are the people that like to have sex with mascots again?") I talked some smack with my rich friend Steph, compared men to types of cheese, and several Harp/lbs. of edamame were consumed, so now I've got that rumbling soy sauce/bloaty alcohol stomach.*

Listen - so do you think it's a reasonable idea to start an Oprah- Angel Network type thing for pass-agressive dudes who need guidance from a strong female someone to boss them around in order to get anything done???... nevermind. We'll just say this: Hot LJG and I, we have this business idea, see. We're captains of charitable ventures. Barbacks, bassists, natch. Law students need not apply. We are the mom-type you need, and get the tax benefits from IRSing ourselves as a non-profit. Now stand up straight, wash your goddamned hair for a change, get a real job, and stop hooking up with 21 year olds. You heard me. We're bossing you around for your own good.

Okay, the above explanation makes no sense, I know, but if you saw our diagrammed flowcharts on cocktail napkins from last night you'd be all over this idea. Send funding, stat.

In other news, I'm incoherent. I apologize.

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DOG UPDATE, NOT RAD EDITION:

What is not rad is going home for a quick lunch, to let the dog outside to poo and stuff, and to come into my house, and gawk, and to have my living room raise a bloody triumphant fist in victory as if to say "hey, look! I've just been through Dogeggedon, and I SURVIVED!" "Eye of the Tiger" was playing from the stereo.

Apparently, Angelic Brown Dog has been a quick study from Satanic Black Dog, and decided to go all "No-day-but-today-'Rent'-stylee" on my house this morning. The nice, new window treaments that were suffering from the earlier Black Dog Charlie Company Battle Royale are now officially dead; dirty, shredded, eaten, slashed to the point of no return. This fish is going to cost us thousands in pscychotherapy, by the time I walked in the front door he was exhibiting classic signs of PTSD.

Brown Dog has never before participated in a freak-out of this nature, usually his free time is spent napping, dreaming of squirrels and rawhide treats. So I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume someone was trying to break into our house through that accidental open window**, and my dog saved the day, and now he deserves a cape.

*This is how my girls roll. We are sans-NSO tix or whathav of the peeps pooing their horizontal pants, hanging on for dear life at the last rung of the social ladder- ladders, BTW, are hard to climb when actually made of rope (burning rope!), swinging from the bottom of the rescue helicopter that is the Internet. My girls, they roll much harder.

In case you haven't caught on, I'm really into not making any sense today.

** Open because our air conditioning is dead. You would think this wouldn't be an issue in OCTOBER, but alas.