By the way, for those who thought the first paragraph of yesterday's post vaguely familiar, I was more/less channeling Illyria's words in "Underneath" ("Angel" Season 5, Episode 17). Here's the relevant excerpt:

It's too small. It's too small. I can't breathe. I can't live with these walls. I can't breathe. There's no room for anything real. ... I should gut you where you stand. You challenged me. There's not enough space to open my jaws. My face is not my face. I don't know what it will say.

Ja!

A few weeks ago, at the local Main Street Festival, I signed up to be on the mailing list for the Northern Prince George's County Republican Club (NPGCRC). Now you all know where I stand politically -- independent; I evaluate the issues as they come and side with no party, though I tend to be left-leaning -- but I thought it might be interesting to read the group's e-mails and perhaps, time permitting, drop in on meetings from time to time. Also, I had to make nice with the reps so they'd let me have my photo taken with the life-sized cardboard Bush, which they'd kind of hidden away because people were attacking it and threatening it with death!

Anyway, I only mention this because the latest e-mail from the group urges recipients to e-mail Mark Whitaker, Newsweek's editor, and request that he demand that the persons responsible for running the Guantanamo Bay Quran flushing story resign from their posts. "No other industry can cause so much damage and not have to pay legal consequences," it reads. "This is the least that American's [sic] can expect for an article that caused the death of 17 people and caused irreparable harm to the reputation of the U.S. around the globe." (more...)

I've been pretty exhausted these last few days. Frazzled. Out of sorts. Can't take much more. I've been spending a good chunk of my time here searching the employment sections of craigslist.org and various NYC papers looking for positions in NYC. I put in for one at a local university the other day -- we'll see how that goes. But I'm suffocating in this life. I'm trapped in a box and the sides are collapsing and soon I'll be flat and there's no room for me to open my jaws. It's too much of too little and I can't bloody take much more. ANYWAY. (more...)

Indeed! Driven by my curiosity to know what about doggie treats drives canines crazy and my desire to sample a healthy, low fat, low calorie, peanut butter-flavored, packing peanut-textured morsel, I took it upon myself to taste test Pup Corn. The verdict? Read the article to find out!

Also, in A Crayon Haiku #30, we witness yet another example of poor advertising at work. Perhaps Wendy's meant to suggest the connection between hunger for food and hunger for... something else... that we briefly touched on in the previous entry? I dunno. 😛

Anyway, ENJOY! Ja ne, minna-san.

And now, a rare WESOTERIC post about relationships! YAY!

Having observed a number of dates via television shows and having read a number of failed date blog entries, I've noticed that one of the most prevalent reasons that an otherwise good date doesn't lead to a romantic relationship is that there just isn't that *spark* -- that sexual attraction, that aching desire to molest the other person and use his/her delectable body for one's pleasure and gratification -- for at least one of the parties. Even when the two parties really get along and hit it off personality-wise, the decision may be made during the second or even first date that the two should simply be friends rather than try to force something that just isn't there. That is, even in the face of a highly compelling reason to continue to pursue a romantic relationship, the initial absence of something so insignificant as conscious sexual attraction (note the italicized word; we'll come back to that later) is enough to halt any further attempts to make progress on that front. Because there's no spark.

I think this is a mistake. (more...)