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 friday, april 20Dymo devil I broke down and bought a Dymo clicky thing earlier this week while waiting in one of those endless Walgreen lines. What can I say? I'm a sucker for the impulse purchase. The Dymo label maker is the perfect gadget for my "miss fiddle twiddle pick bang" tendencies. The sucker already developed a grating squeak as the dial is turned from letter to letter. Rub two pieces of styrofoam together and you'll get a pretty good idea of what I'm talking about. Click. Squeak. Click. Squeeaaaaak. Click. Squeak. Squeak. Click. Ka-chunk! What have I learned? I can't spell. My poor brain times out between letters and there are times when I've been left with long strings of gibberish. So far I've generated short phrases like "crescent fresh," "i've got laser eyes," "hope is the thing with feathers," "bite me," "i am jason kottke," "punk ass kids," and "i'm fucking lance arthur" on little bits of blue, yellow, red and orange tape. I was thinking of finding a wee spot in the neighbourhood to adorn with rotating labels, but I'm short on content. Got any bon mots, baby?
What does Meg know that we don't? Some days ago (3/22), she alerted us to the rumours that TiVo was experiencing difficulties. Just reading "Rumors persist that TiVo's going under" caused my stomach to sour. Life without TiVo? And now? Well, Meg is weaning herself from television altogether (4/18). "I've been observing No TV Week this week, just to see what it's like." Should we connect the dots? Is this it? Is the end in sight? "Why are young men still so convinced that size matters more than anything? And why don't young women think passionately about anything but boyfriends and marriage?" - What Goes Around Comes Around [via Dack] Canada too reliant on U.S. sperm, critics say. The day before yesterday? Bit parts. |
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