Slovenian Capital under siege!
Quick! How do you say, "Pic-a-nic basket," in Slovenian?
Showing posts with label Slovenia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Slovenia. Show all posts
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
The Moment for Slovenia
Remember how I want to go to Slovenia?
{Picture by B. Bajželj via Slovenia Tourism site}
The Moment, the NYT bastion of fashion and lifestyle, is going to Slovenia. All my dreams of a far-off gem, under the radar of the idylls of tourism, are gone.
{Picture by J Skok via Slovenia Tourism site}
On the brighter side, it proves I have a keen eye for the haute du jour.
And I bet the fishing's still good.
{Picture by B. Bajželj via Slovenia Tourism site}
The Moment, the NYT bastion of fashion and lifestyle, is going to Slovenia. All my dreams of a far-off gem, under the radar of the idylls of tourism, are gone.
{Picture by J Skok via Slovenia Tourism site}
On the brighter side, it proves I have a keen eye for the haute du jour.
And I bet the fishing's still good.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Drop In, Opt Out, Co-Opt
Once again, I have almost nothing to say.
No wisdom to impart,† no sex,‡ no knitting.§
[SUMMARY: This could be a long post.¶]
I don't have wisdom, sex or knitting, what do I have?
I can lick the pig.
I take comfort in the thought that no matter how bleak things get, I can usually scrape together enough bits for a respectable pig-licking.#
[SUMMARY: I have a dream...]
*************
First, remember how I wanted to go to Slovenia?%
The fact that there is a Slovenian Pig Stamp doesn't make me want to go any less.
*************
Next, in a long-awaited update to the office trash situation,†† we did finally get our "piggy backs"‡‡ for our trash cans. The trash portion of the system is smaller than a ream of paper. Apparently they haven't seen my trash after a yarn shipment.
[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]
Anyway, I've already thrown my kleenex in the wrong bin twice.
Further updates as the situation warrants.
*************
Now for the co-opt portion of our program:
This is not my story, but Mary Kay doesn't have a blog, so it's not so much *stealing* as it is giving an outlet for Mary Kay's wonderful world.
See, Mary Kay is a Drunken Knitter and shows up at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesday nights with some regularity, but she's a double agent.
A group of acedemicians, of which Mary Kay and her husband (The Professor) are members also meets at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesdays. So Mary Kay rides the fence, spending some time fiber-geeking with us and some time science-geeking with the other crowd.
So last Tuesday, Mary Kay had the most wonderful story, a story whose punchline has innumerable potentials.§§
See, a good friend of The Professor has a .45## in his house for protection.
Now is the time I introduce you to the concept of Ninja Monkeys: "Ninja Monkeys" is a blanket term¶¶ for any threat from assaulter to zombie that may beg the presence of a firearm.%%
So this guy became concerned about what might happen should Ninja Monkeys attack while he's in the shower. His hands would be wet. The gun might slip.
He did what any respectable denizen of the 21st century would do: he Googled aftermarket grips for his gun and came across a saying I'd like to have emblazoned across my boobs:†††
Tacky Even When Wet
And I want to translate it to Latin and use it as part of a coat of arms for the Drunken Knitters.
And Mary Kay and I started using it as a call and refrain@:
AntiM: Tacky...
Mary Kay: Even when wet!
[SUMMARY: Oh, the places you'll go!]
*************
I just cashed in a whole pile of Kharmic Green Stamps on titanium sporks.‡‡‡
When Dad took me to the Flyfishing Film Fest, they had a bunch of raffle prizes. I was totally hoping I'd win the titanium spork. Unfortunately, it went to the obnoxious, ungrateful wretch behind us, who (besides being loud through the whole event) did nothing but complain that he got a stupid titanium spork.
Some people don't know a good thing when they have it.
I decided it would be a funny and -- probably -- even useful gift for my father for his upcoming birthday, so I Googled it. REI has a flagship store really close to me, so I checked to see if REI carried such a thing.
Their online store has several.
As you may remember, Shane turned 40 recently.§§§ And Hinch is turning 40 soon. And I got it into my head that a titanium spork would be a perfect gift for a 40 year old guy. And I really want one too.
So I need at least four titanium sporks, an errand I haven't yet accomplished.
Let's look in on Hans.
Hans had his golf clubs stolen right out of his car recently. When his insurance company asked for receipts or photographic evidence that he'd ever actually owned golf clubs,¶¶¶ he found... he couldn't prove a damned thing.###
So he has to get an affidavit from a friend saying he golfs and had golf clubs.
Said friend is meeting him at REI.
I asked him to check and see if they have titanium sporks in stock.
Who knew the theft of Hans's golf clubs would turn out to be so beneficial to me?
Oh, yeah. I won't get a good parking space for weeks for all the Kharmic Green Stamps I've cashed in.
[SUMMARY: Somewhere a Buddhist rolls in his grave.]
*************
Oh, cripes. The boss just called and one of my clients%%% is flying in from Houston at 6:00 tonight and is staying at the Brown Palace. She wants to have a business dinner at 7:00 at the Brown to get a head start on tomorrows round of meetings.
Fuck.
Y'all know I love me some Brown Palace. What's not to love? It's elegant, well appointed, upscale, cosy, well executed, helpful, has the best spa in the city and they feed and water me about once a month.
But tonight is Drunken Knitting night. And I'd like to have more notice. And I have to go home and change and put on war paint. And I just don't want to.
This is what Ange calls a White Girl Problem.
[SUMMARY: You'll note it's still a problem.]
*************
UPDATE: Hans JUST came back and REI does, indeed, have titanium sporks in stock.
*************
Damnit.
With the Brown Palace field trip tonight, I doubt I'll have the time or inclination to offload my camera. I have such splendid out-my-office-window pictures too...
*************
Dang. You know it's a bad blogday when the footnotes outnumber the actual texts.
I better get laid soon or y'all will never have anything good to read again.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Duh.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I actually have been knitting. Some. But how many times can you see the same 4x1 red silk rib before you give up on me entirely?
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not long like my usual prolixity (look it up), but long like watched-pot-not-boiling long.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Heheheh. What do you suppose "respectable" means in terms of pig-licking?
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Oh, and I still do!
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I think I should get credit for the fact that the last office trash story was also under a pig-licking and I didn't try to make it a full post all on its own. I may get writer's block* now and then, but at least I keep office trash politics in perspective.
*FOOTNOTE WITHIN A FOOTNOTE: Thinker's block?
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Note the clever pig tie-in.
§§FOOTNOTE (dizzy... confused...): Can potential be plural?
##FOOTNOTE (numbers. We are talking numbers here.): Or a .44. Or a Glock something millimetre. Doesn't matter. For our purposes, a handgun. Can you tell I'm not much of a gun buff?
¶¶FOOTNOTE (why not just club them?): And one that might not be capitalised in anyone else's world.
%%FOOTNOTE (2 percent!): This was superfluous but so much fun. After all, I could probably do this whole story without ever saying "Ninja Monkeys," but why on earth?
†††FOOTNOTE (cross me again...): Not directly on my boobs, mind you. In fact, it would *have* to be on a t-shirt to be really funny, wouldn't it?
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Kinda like an adult beverage version of Marco Polo.
§§§FOOTNOTE (put a foot on the floor and it will stop spinning): You think I just took a total left turn, don't you? You may even think I've forgotten what story I'm telling. A good pig-licking always contains an element of surprise. Or confusion.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (one iron! three iron! five iron!): You'll love the fact that not only was his insurance agent the one who left his car window open so his golf clubs *could* be stolen, but the dink called him a couple of days later to ask him to go golfing.
###FOOTNOTE (triple pounder. With cheese.): Let this be a lesson: make sure you have a picture of you golfing. Even if you're drunk and have that smeary look on your face. You may be called upon one day to prove you had clubs.
%%%FOOTNOTE (3 percent!): I only have two right now, so every client is a big client.
No wisdom to impart,† no sex,‡ no knitting.§
[SUMMARY: This could be a long post.¶]
I don't have wisdom, sex or knitting, what do I have?
I can lick the pig.
I take comfort in the thought that no matter how bleak things get, I can usually scrape together enough bits for a respectable pig-licking.#
[SUMMARY: I have a dream...]
*************
First, remember how I wanted to go to Slovenia?%
The fact that there is a Slovenian Pig Stamp doesn't make me want to go any less.
*************
Next, in a long-awaited update to the office trash situation,†† we did finally get our "piggy backs"‡‡ for our trash cans. The trash portion of the system is smaller than a ream of paper. Apparently they haven't seen my trash after a yarn shipment.
[SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!]
Anyway, I've already thrown my kleenex in the wrong bin twice.
Further updates as the situation warrants.
*************
Now for the co-opt portion of our program:
This is not my story, but Mary Kay doesn't have a blog, so it's not so much *stealing* as it is giving an outlet for Mary Kay's wonderful world.
See, Mary Kay is a Drunken Knitter and shows up at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesday nights with some regularity, but she's a double agent.
A group of acedemicians, of which Mary Kay and her husband (The Professor) are members also meets at Patrick Carroll's on Tuesdays. So Mary Kay rides the fence, spending some time fiber-geeking with us and some time science-geeking with the other crowd.
So last Tuesday, Mary Kay had the most wonderful story, a story whose punchline has innumerable potentials.§§
See, a good friend of The Professor has a .45## in his house for protection.
Now is the time I introduce you to the concept of Ninja Monkeys: "Ninja Monkeys" is a blanket term¶¶ for any threat from assaulter to zombie that may beg the presence of a firearm.%%
So this guy became concerned about what might happen should Ninja Monkeys attack while he's in the shower. His hands would be wet. The gun might slip.
He did what any respectable denizen of the 21st century would do: he Googled aftermarket grips for his gun and came across a saying I'd like to have emblazoned across my boobs:†††
Tacky Even When Wet
And I want to translate it to Latin and use it as part of a coat of arms for the Drunken Knitters.
And Mary Kay and I started using it as a call and refrain@:
AntiM: Tacky...
Mary Kay: Even when wet!
[SUMMARY: Oh, the places you'll go!]
*************
I just cashed in a whole pile of Kharmic Green Stamps on titanium sporks.‡‡‡
When Dad took me to the Flyfishing Film Fest, they had a bunch of raffle prizes. I was totally hoping I'd win the titanium spork. Unfortunately, it went to the obnoxious, ungrateful wretch behind us, who (besides being loud through the whole event) did nothing but complain that he got a stupid titanium spork.
Some people don't know a good thing when they have it.
I decided it would be a funny and -- probably -- even useful gift for my father for his upcoming birthday, so I Googled it. REI has a flagship store really close to me, so I checked to see if REI carried such a thing.
Their online store has several.
As you may remember, Shane turned 40 recently.§§§ And Hinch is turning 40 soon. And I got it into my head that a titanium spork would be a perfect gift for a 40 year old guy. And I really want one too.
So I need at least four titanium sporks, an errand I haven't yet accomplished.
Let's look in on Hans.
Hans had his golf clubs stolen right out of his car recently. When his insurance company asked for receipts or photographic evidence that he'd ever actually owned golf clubs,¶¶¶ he found... he couldn't prove a damned thing.###
So he has to get an affidavit from a friend saying he golfs and had golf clubs.
Said friend is meeting him at REI.
I asked him to check and see if they have titanium sporks in stock.
Who knew the theft of Hans's golf clubs would turn out to be so beneficial to me?
Oh, yeah. I won't get a good parking space for weeks for all the Kharmic Green Stamps I've cashed in.
[SUMMARY: Somewhere a Buddhist rolls in his grave.]
*************
Oh, cripes. The boss just called and one of my clients%%% is flying in from Houston at 6:00 tonight and is staying at the Brown Palace. She wants to have a business dinner at 7:00 at the Brown to get a head start on tomorrows round of meetings.
Fuck.
Y'all know I love me some Brown Palace. What's not to love? It's elegant, well appointed, upscale, cosy, well executed, helpful, has the best spa in the city and they feed and water me about once a month.
But tonight is Drunken Knitting night. And I'd like to have more notice. And I have to go home and change and put on war paint. And I just don't want to.
This is what Ange calls a White Girl Problem.
[SUMMARY: You'll note it's still a problem.]
*************
UPDATE: Hans JUST came back and REI does, indeed, have titanium sporks in stock.
*************
Damnit.
With the Brown Palace field trip tonight, I doubt I'll have the time or inclination to offload my camera. I have such splendid out-my-office-window pictures too...
*************
Dang. You know it's a bad blogday when the footnotes outnumber the actual texts.
I better get laid soon or y'all will never have anything good to read again.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Duh.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Trust me, this hurts me more than it hurts you.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I actually have been knitting. Some. But how many times can you see the same 4x1 red silk rib before you give up on me entirely?
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not long like my usual prolixity (look it up), but long like watched-pot-not-boiling long.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Heheheh. What do you suppose "respectable" means in terms of pig-licking?
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Oh, and I still do!
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I think I should get credit for the fact that the last office trash story was also under a pig-licking and I didn't try to make it a full post all on its own. I may get writer's block* now and then, but at least I keep office trash politics in perspective.
*FOOTNOTE WITHIN A FOOTNOTE: Thinker's block?
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Note the clever pig tie-in.
§§FOOTNOTE (dizzy... confused...): Can potential be plural?
##FOOTNOTE (numbers. We are talking numbers here.): Or a .44. Or a Glock something millimetre. Doesn't matter. For our purposes, a handgun. Can you tell I'm not much of a gun buff?
¶¶FOOTNOTE (why not just club them?): And one that might not be capitalised in anyone else's world.
%%FOOTNOTE (2 percent!): This was superfluous but so much fun. After all, I could probably do this whole story without ever saying "Ninja Monkeys," but why on earth?
†††FOOTNOTE (cross me again...): Not directly on my boobs, mind you. In fact, it would *have* to be on a t-shirt to be really funny, wouldn't it?
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Kinda like an adult beverage version of Marco Polo.
§§§FOOTNOTE (put a foot on the floor and it will stop spinning): You think I just took a total left turn, don't you? You may even think I've forgotten what story I'm telling. A good pig-licking always contains an element of surprise. Or confusion.
¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (one iron! three iron! five iron!): You'll love the fact that not only was his insurance agent the one who left his car window open so his golf clubs *could* be stolen, but the dink called him a couple of days later to ask him to go golfing.
###FOOTNOTE (triple pounder. With cheese.): Let this be a lesson: make sure you have a picture of you golfing. Even if you're drunk and have that smeary look on your face. You may be called upon one day to prove you had clubs.
%%%FOOTNOTE (3 percent!): I only have two right now, so every client is a big client.
Friday, February 29, 2008
And If We Have the Pig, Shall We Not Lick It?
TTHFCIF
And if we have three pigs, shall we not go hog wild with the pig-licking?
Don't get too excited... that may be the most fun we have all blogday here. I may have just shot my wad.%
[SUMMARY: They don't make wads like they used to.]
*************
Spring Training!
I don't really have a whole lot more to say than that, but it may be the first time, um... ever, that I'm kinda excited about spring training.
[SUMMARY: The boys of summer... in February.]
*************
Guess what I did last night. No, really. I could make good money betting that you'd never guess.
The first part of the evening was wrapped up in eating,† which is a good thing. It's Denver Restaurant Week‡ and I managed two outings in honour of food: Monday at the Samba Room and last night at the Jewel of India. Excellent outings, both.
And if I may sneak in a little aside here -- we are pig-licking, after all -- if you've never had the carrot pudding at an Indian restaurant,§ it is really, really good. If you like carrot cake, you'll like hot carrot pudding.
Anyway, Kelley and I have had dinner plans for last night for a week or more, so that wasn't a surprise, but Dad emailing yesterday was:
Daughter,
I have an extra ticket to a fly fishing show at the Oriental (44th & Tennyson) tonight - starts @ 7:30.
My "date" got sick. If you have absolutely nothing else to do and could stand the thought of 2+ hours of fly fishing movies...I would love to have you.
love you,
dad
So, yeah. I went to a fly fishing film festival with my dad last night.
[SUMMARY: *THIS* was the big surprise?! I want my money back!¶]
*************
I never knew until last night that I want to go to Slovenia.
Slovenia, it turns out, is highly literate, sort of democratic, controls major transit routes, is extremely beautiful and very... high. Its highest point is only 2,864 metres above sea level,# but it starts at zero,†† so... tall.
It's just a little smaller than New Jersey, but judging by the pictures, it's all mountains. And trout streams. Just look...
Rafting on the Soča River
Photo by B. Kladnik
Unless you're just plain anti-outdoors, how could you not want to try this?
And they have big, fat fish. As Dad said last night, "Any fish with shoulders is a well-fed fish."
[SUMMARY: We may be licking the pig, but we're slurping the fish.]
*************
Speaking of sports,^ did anyone else see the Avs put together the Old Player Nostalgia Tour this week?
At least I'll get to wear my Foote sweater again.
[SUMMARY: Desperation smells... icy.]
*************
OK, I'm totally, horribly remiss.
Lia at the Fruity Sheep and Pam the Yarn Goddess both very kindly passed this You Make My Day Award to me about a bazillion years ago and I, ingrate that I am,‡‡ completely missed the boat, both in passing it on myself and in saying a big ol' thank you to those who say I make their day 'cause... well, it makes my day.
I know I'm probably the biggest dork in the world, but it really does mean something special to me.
So here's my list of ten blogpeople who make my day:
Enchanting Juno
The Chairarmed Quarterback
Fuzzy Logic
Fey
Things Look Like Things
A Long Yarn
Comfort Sphere
Skull a Day
Affiknitty
Frank Notes
It's neither inclusive or exclusive, it's just a good use of blog resources.
[SUMMARY: Manners fail. Will charm save the day?]
*************
Speaking of bad manners... I really should go thank the boss's wife for the nice TV8 Vail calendar she sent me for Christmas.
[SUMMARY: What is wrong with me?]
*************
The Coral Room will be hosting a (drunken) spelling bee§§ on March 22 to benefit a friend with cancer. Her medical bills are astronomical, so they've¶¶ done several fundraising events to help out.
I'm looking forward to it even though I'm sure I've aced myself out of contention by telling everybody else how easy they're going to be to beat. It nearly ensures I will go down on a word like, "tapestry" or "impala."
My old friend Shane## put in the sound system at The Coral Room and was in there one night last week. Sue related this story to me:
Sue told Shane about the spelling bee and he said, "I'm gonna beat everybody. Oh, wait... is Marin going to be there?"
"Yes, she is."
"Fuck it. I'm not even coming then."
I've asked Sue to pass that on to my competition. Maybe I can psyche them out to counteract the hubris I've been spewing to the universe.
[SUMMARY: Makin' my own yin and yang.]
*************
I could go on and on,@ but it's Wahoo's Friday, so I'm outie. Happy Leap Day!
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Heheheheheh.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): OK, this isn't the part that may surprise you. I eat. You've seen pictures -- I eat pretty well.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Where all week, various restaurants have $52.80-per-couple meals. Get it? $52.80? 5280? Like "feet in a mile"? Like "Mile High City"? Trust me, if you live in Denverish or even spend a week here on vacation, you'll never again forget how many feet are in a mile.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which I would totally understand. I like carrots and it still sounded disgusting to me.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And here would be where I point out that I provide a free service here at the Rickety Blog and you clearly get what you pay for.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): 9,396' feet, which may not sound all that low if you're from, say, LA or New Jersey, but my living room is at 5,460' so I live by a different altitude standard.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Colorado's lowest point, by comparison, is 3,315', with a high of 14,440'. And its mean is 6,800', making it the highest mean elevation in all 50 of these United States. The state bird is the lark bunting and our motto is, "Nil sine Numine" ("Nothing without Providence"). Colorado is the only state to have rejected the Olympics, when 62% of voters decided hosting the 1976 Winter Olympics would cause too much traffic and pollution.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): Yes, we were.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): My mother raised me better. My father raised me better. Hell, if I'd been raised by wolves I would have done better than I done.
§§FOOTNOTE (corkscrews): I'm not sure that's how they're billing it, but I am reasonably sure that's how it will end up.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (club footnote): And by "they," I mean, "Sue and Mama Love," not The Coral Room in general.
##FOOTNOTE (pounded like a tequila hangover): You may remember Shane... right up there with Tommy on the eye candy scale.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Duh.
And if we have three pigs, shall we not go hog wild with the pig-licking?
Don't get too excited... that may be the most fun we have all blogday here. I may have just shot my wad.%
[SUMMARY: They don't make wads like they used to.]
*************
Spring Training!
I don't really have a whole lot more to say than that, but it may be the first time, um... ever, that I'm kinda excited about spring training.
[SUMMARY: The boys of summer... in February.]
*************
Guess what I did last night. No, really. I could make good money betting that you'd never guess.
The first part of the evening was wrapped up in eating,† which is a good thing. It's Denver Restaurant Week‡ and I managed two outings in honour of food: Monday at the Samba Room and last night at the Jewel of India. Excellent outings, both.
And if I may sneak in a little aside here -- we are pig-licking, after all -- if you've never had the carrot pudding at an Indian restaurant,§ it is really, really good. If you like carrot cake, you'll like hot carrot pudding.
Anyway, Kelley and I have had dinner plans for last night for a week or more, so that wasn't a surprise, but Dad emailing yesterday was:
Daughter,
I have an extra ticket to a fly fishing show at the Oriental (44th & Tennyson) tonight - starts @ 7:30.
My "date" got sick. If you have absolutely nothing else to do and could stand the thought of 2+ hours of fly fishing movies...I would love to have you.
love you,
dad
So, yeah. I went to a fly fishing film festival with my dad last night.
[SUMMARY: *THIS* was the big surprise?! I want my money back!¶]
*************
I never knew until last night that I want to go to Slovenia.
Slovenia, it turns out, is highly literate, sort of democratic, controls major transit routes, is extremely beautiful and very... high. Its highest point is only 2,864 metres above sea level,# but it starts at zero,†† so... tall.
It's just a little smaller than New Jersey, but judging by the pictures, it's all mountains. And trout streams. Just look...
Rafting on the Soča River
Photo by B. Kladnik
Unless you're just plain anti-outdoors, how could you not want to try this?
And they have big, fat fish. As Dad said last night, "Any fish with shoulders is a well-fed fish."
[SUMMARY: We may be licking the pig, but we're slurping the fish.]
*************
Speaking of sports,^ did anyone else see the Avs put together the Old Player Nostalgia Tour this week?
At least I'll get to wear my Foote sweater again.
[SUMMARY: Desperation smells... icy.]
*************
OK, I'm totally, horribly remiss.
Lia at the Fruity Sheep and Pam the Yarn Goddess both very kindly passed this You Make My Day Award to me about a bazillion years ago and I, ingrate that I am,‡‡ completely missed the boat, both in passing it on myself and in saying a big ol' thank you to those who say I make their day 'cause... well, it makes my day.
I know I'm probably the biggest dork in the world, but it really does mean something special to me.
So here's my list of ten blogpeople who make my day:
Enchanting Juno
The Chairarmed Quarterback
Fuzzy Logic
Fey
Things Look Like Things
A Long Yarn
Comfort Sphere
Skull a Day
Affiknitty
Frank Notes
It's neither inclusive or exclusive, it's just a good use of blog resources.
[SUMMARY: Manners fail. Will charm save the day?]
*************
Speaking of bad manners... I really should go thank the boss's wife for the nice TV8 Vail calendar she sent me for Christmas.
[SUMMARY: What is wrong with me?]
*************
The Coral Room will be hosting a (drunken) spelling bee§§ on March 22 to benefit a friend with cancer. Her medical bills are astronomical, so they've¶¶ done several fundraising events to help out.
I'm looking forward to it even though I'm sure I've aced myself out of contention by telling everybody else how easy they're going to be to beat. It nearly ensures I will go down on a word like, "tapestry" or "impala."
My old friend Shane## put in the sound system at The Coral Room and was in there one night last week. Sue related this story to me:
Sue told Shane about the spelling bee and he said, "I'm gonna beat everybody. Oh, wait... is Marin going to be there?"
"Yes, she is."
"Fuck it. I'm not even coming then."
I've asked Sue to pass that on to my competition. Maybe I can psyche them out to counteract the hubris I've been spewing to the universe.
[SUMMARY: Makin' my own yin and yang.]
*************
I could go on and on,@ but it's Wahoo's Friday, so I'm outie. Happy Leap Day!
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Heheheheheh.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): OK, this isn't the part that may surprise you. I eat. You've seen pictures -- I eat pretty well.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Where all week, various restaurants have $52.80-per-couple meals. Get it? $52.80? 5280? Like "feet in a mile"? Like "Mile High City"? Trust me, if you live in Denverish or even spend a week here on vacation, you'll never again forget how many feet are in a mile.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which I would totally understand. I like carrots and it still sounded disgusting to me.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And here would be where I point out that I provide a free service here at the Rickety Blog and you clearly get what you pay for.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): 9,396' feet, which may not sound all that low if you're from, say, LA or New Jersey, but my living room is at 5,460' so I live by a different altitude standard.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Colorado's lowest point, by comparison, is 3,315', with a high of 14,440'. And its mean is 6,800', making it the highest mean elevation in all 50 of these United States. The state bird is the lark bunting and our motto is, "Nil sine Numine" ("Nothing without Providence"). Colorado is the only state to have rejected the Olympics, when 62% of voters decided hosting the 1976 Winter Olympics would cause too much traffic and pollution.
^FOOTNOTE (careted): Yes, we were.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): My mother raised me better. My father raised me better. Hell, if I'd been raised by wolves I would have done better than I done.
§§FOOTNOTE (corkscrews): I'm not sure that's how they're billing it, but I am reasonably sure that's how it will end up.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (club footnote): And by "they," I mean, "Sue and Mama Love," not The Coral Room in general.
##FOOTNOTE (pounded like a tequila hangover): You may remember Shane... right up there with Tommy on the eye candy scale.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Duh.
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