The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
Homeless Elbow
Two days ago in Boulder, my friend Ryan and his wife Cat were attacked by a homeless man with a club-- Ryan took a shot to the head before Cat wrested the club from the attacker and beat him with it-- she reported in the paper that her arm was sore from bludgeoning the itinerant . . . seriously!
Finned and Defused
I'm reading Marvin Minsky's The Society of the Mind (his treatise on intelligence, artificial and otherwise) and Neil Shubin's Your Inner Fish: A Journey into the 3.5 Billion Year History of the Human Body at the same time: I don't know whether I'm a very complicated robot or a very hairy shark.
It's Hard to Start Hamlet With A Hangover
If you have plans for the Super Bowl, make sure they're flexible-- because I sent an e-mail to the President of the Fox Network asking him to move the game to Saturday evening (I'm starting Hamlet on Monday and I don't want either myself or my students to be tired from watching the game).
I'm Above This Kind of Gossip
Apparently, the story that Mark Hamill got into a car accident and had reconstuctive surgery on his face between filming The Empire Strikes Back and The Return of the Jedi is an urban legend . . . not that I care or anything . . . but his face does look kind of different . . . but what do I care?
How Much Does a Coffee Filter Filter?
This morning I spilled the entire canister of coffee beans onto the kitchen floor (which isn't terribly clean, Alex and Ian are slobs) , but I swept up the scattered beans and salvaged them; a coffee filter strains out dirt and old food, right?
The Hassler
Eighteen consecutive missed pool shots (including a break that flew off the table and into the wall) are erased by one lucky jump shot.
Dave Rationalizes Violence in the Office
I'm starting to feel less guilty about punching Brady in the leg yesterday-- in fact, because of his history of madcap pranks, I'm starting to think that maybe he even deserved to get punched in the leg-- as just desserts for past mischief . . . despite his innocence in this particular shenanigan.
I Punch a Colleague For No Good Reason
Unfortunately, the title of this post is accurate, but there were donuts involved so I think you'll understand how it happened and empathize with me . . . I walked into the English office yesterday, ravenous, and I saw a full box of donuts on the table-- so I grabbed a Boston Creme and pulled up a chair-- pulled the chair right up to the table, in front of the box of donuts, as I wasn't planning on eating just one donut . . . I planned on sitting down and eating several donuts-- and the office was crowded so I wanted to be as near as possible to the donuts-- and then I went to sit down on my chair-- the chair I had just pulled up to the table-- but there was no chair . . . I had sat down on air-- the chair was gone-- and as I was falling I looked over my shoulder and saw my friend and colleague Kevin laughing hysterically and in that split second I decided that he had pulled the chair away (if you knew him, you'd know that kind of prank would be right up his alley) and instead of breaking my fall with my hand, I lunged and punched him in the leg-- hard-- and then I hit the ground; Kevin said, "Why'd you hit me?" and most people in the office were appalled by the violence, but my friend Eric approved-- because pulling a chair out from someone as they sit down to eat a donut is not only low-class but also dangerous . . . but as it turns out, he didn't pull the chair away-- the chair was never there in the first place-- in my excitement to eat the donut, I thought I pulled a chair up to the table but, apparently, I didn't . . . so Kevin was laughing hysterically because he had never seen a grown man sit on a non-existent chair, not because he had pulled it away, and so not only did I fall awkwardly in front of eight colleagues, but I also punched one of them in the leg for no good reason.
I'm Not Superstitious Anyway
If the Giants lose, I'll shoulder the blame (I was growing a Giants good-luck victory beard, but it got really itchy so I shaved it.)
To Drool or Not to Drool
I have to stop bringing such good sandwiches to work (e.g. ham, mozzarella, fried peppers, onion, lettuce, and balsamic dressing-- Catherine made me one yesterday and I replicated it today) because it's all I think while I'm teaching my morning classes, and when I think about food I salivate profusely, and salivating profusely is no way to teach literature.
Personification Poisons Dave's Mind
I am so pissed off at my new USB hard drive that I can't think coherently enough to write a meaningful sentence.
Do Not Be Tempted By The Plethora of Signs
Don't stop at Lake George if you need fuel and also need fast access to a bathroom-- the amenities are a long way off the exit!
If Bruce Were in Futurama
Tonight, we'll be racing the storm up Route 87-- it almost sounds like a Bruce Springsteen song, aside from the kids in the back watching "The Incredibles" on their miniature video screens.
Te ves sexy en ese bikini de metal . . .
I finally got my comeuppance for illegally burning DVD's I get from the library-- we sat down to watch "Return of the Jedi" only to find that the dialogue was dubbed in Spanish (not that it made much difference, I think the boys understood it just as well, and Princess Leia is still just as hot in her metal bikini).
Weather.com: Do They KNOW What 100% Means?
Despite the one-hundred percent chance of snow Weather.com promised, we are going to school today-- but I guess a Giants victory over Dallas and a snow-day would be too much to ask for.
Where the Fuck Do You Get Lunch on a Saturday in Princeton?
Who knew that both Conte's and Tortuga's Mexican Village are both closed for lunch on Saturdays?
Can We Get A Replay On That?
Ours was a house of vomit and and worse last night (but Catherine did make an amazing play at the vegetable market-- she saw Ian's mouth watering, and in one motion she grabbed a plastic bag, tore it off the roll, opened it, positioned it . . . and he upchucked into that instead of all over the avocados).
1/11/2008
Finally, relief from the worm that's been gnawing at my brain: the ramp for the new crawl space can go inside the basement!
1/10/2008
Last night, spellbound by his first viewing of the Star Wars Trilogy, Alex insisted that "The Empire Strikes Back" should actually be called "Darth Vader on the Loose!" (exclamation point his).
1/9/2008
I'd like to thank the U.S. Postal Service for getting me my movie on time-- "Street Fight" arrived today and now the rest of my week will be smooth and easy.
1/8/2007
I'm really counting on Blockbuster to mail me "Street Fight" -- if it doesn't arrive by Friday I'm going to have to teach.
1/5/2008
We met with the kitchen design lady the other night, and she showed us some very nice kitchens she designed-- but they were TOO nice, it made nervous-- if our kitchen is that nice, then do we have to start making the rest of our house nice?-- and where does it end?-- do I have to start dressing nice?-- driving a nice car?-- saying nice things to people?-- do I have to get that little skin flap cut off my eye-lid so I look nice? do I have to eat better food so my flatulence smells nice?-- where do you draw the line in the sand?
1/3/2008
Last night, Catherine asked Alex to turn down the volume on the stereo, but he turned the knob the wrong way and turned the volume WAY up; he then clapped his hand over his ears, screamed, and ran into the kitchen-- it was really really funny.
Why Are There So Many Televisions At The Gym?
Catherine and I went to the gym together on New Year's Day, and we put Alex and Ian in the kid's play area while we worked out-- it's a large open space with a indoor jungle gym and some of those big red and yellow cars that you sit in-- they were very excited, but when we returned, the lady had turned the TV on and this annoyed me because I wanted my kids to get some exercise, not watch TV, and because we never let them watch any TV, they get mesmerized by it, and essentially can do nothing else but watch the screen-- even if it's crap-- so the question is: if we do this again, can I ask the lady not to turn the TV on?
1/1/2008
My sentence per day completion rate is now one hundred percent for 2008, as compared to a pitiful 10.4 percent for 2007-- I'm also one hundred percent in 2008 for not losing my temper at the kids . . . as compared to a pitiful 6 percent in 2007.