No More Pluto????

I'm all for scientific progress, but this really throws me. I guess I'll have to teach my kids "My very energetic mother just served us nachos." So much for "nine pancakes". How sad. I like pancakes better than nachos. I wonder what this means for the solar system and astronomy in general? New classifications all around? Will we get any new planets? Aw man, now I'm going to have to actually look stuff up and read articles and stuff. I'm tired!

I'm cheeky. I'm wee. I was born in the year of the monkey. Coincidence? I think not.

Doon't worry it's not you.

Nobody ever knows what the hell she's babbling on aboot.

Priorities

"RUN LOGAN!"
"Hang on, I'm sendin' Rima a dirty text message."

I need to put a sign on my house that says "Warning: May contain nuts".

On an unrelated note, though I know your opinion may vary on that, I'm pleased that Craig Ferguson has finally solved my mystery of several "what the hell was I thinking?" clothing purchases. It's that atomic oatmeal thing. Of course, I realize that he was just writing fiction, but it does make sense to me. It's perfect Rima logic. It's exactly how I think. You have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm having a rough day.

JES!

GO JANKEES!

Why do they always wait until later in the season to not suck? You'd think they'd get it by now.

Weird Science

I've got a refrigerator experiment going. (By this I'm referring to a specific one that I'm doing on purpose, not the mysterious tupperwares in the back that I'm not going anywhere near and prefer to leave for archaeologists to deal with.)

Anyway, I bought some stew meat. I defrosted it but never got to use it. It turned brown like spoiled meat does, and I forgot about it for a couple of days and it was still all brown and nasty and ready to be tossed. When I went to toss it a couple of days later, it was red again. Not kidding. And almost two weeks later, it's still looking fresh as a daisy. So I'm leaving it there to see how long this will go on and what, if anything will happen next.

It's not supposed to do this is it? What did they do to this meat to make it do such a thing? This is scary. I'm buying organic from now on. It's like it's undead. I wonder if it's feeding upon the other stuff in the fridge to keep its youth. Maybe I should skewer each chunk with a wooden toothpick and put garlic all over it. If anything weird happens, I'll let you know.

Another Song Stuck in My Head

Sent from the future
Just to be a bastard
Mick Jagger!
Time traveling jerk!

Goddamit.

Shaking My Fist at Kristin!

I've had a song stuck in my head for days now and she knows which one. It's the one that was stuck in HER head for days and when she was in the elevator with Hugh, she sang it to his butt (and yes, I follow this logic completely) and he hummed along. Now it's stuck in my head, and very likely his too, which is probably a welcome change from his work songs, but I'm starting to be done with it now, thank you. Mommy, make it stop!

Another Good Name for a Band

Atomic Oatmeal.

Molecular Porridge sounds too fussy.

Weird Dream

I dreamed that my friend and I were at our local yarn shop and I was showing her some yummy Suri alpaca that I recently used and she decided to look around a bit. She tried to buy the shop owners' lunch until I explained that it was her lunch. Then she said "Oh we need new utensils" and tried to buy all the spoons in the cafe area. I managed to steer her back to the yarn.

Then when we were driving home, there was a story on the radio about how hard it is to get dogs to walk properly on a leash because they always insist on pulling to the left and we said yeah we always wondered about that. Later when I settling down to knit and watch TV, Craig Ferguson mentioned it in his monologue because it was the weirdest thing he had ever heard of and said that they did a secret video study and CBS had obtained footage, which he showed. And there on the hidden camera video were my dog and my friend's dog, roaming about, turning left into various places to get cheeseburgers and slurpees, and finally making a left turn right into the yarn shop to do some shopping! Craig made that "WTF?" face that he does. He's adorkable.

Strange Things Are Afoot at the Circle K...

The plumber pulled twenty bucks out of our toilet (but it still cost us 236) and my kids have been going around saying "Apply directly to your forehead!" The two are not related.

The Full Moon

Never a good day for me. It's the day I feel like strangling everyone, and unfortunately, people tend to give me reason to do so on this particular day. Oh, and the man left for LA again yesterday and took his toilet mojo with him. So now I get to plunge like the wind. I really do need to remember not to answer the phone or reply to my email on this day. (It's not that I don't enjoy ripping a deserving candidate a new asshole, but it stresses me out.) Tonight, I'm going to sit in my chair with a lot of chocolate and watch Craig. I shouldn't knit. I won't sleep either, which sucks because we have a morning appointment tomorrow that involves a bit of driving. It also requires my attention. I'm feeling rather tense.

Grow a Pair

Today I saw a guy with a sticker on his car that said "Save our children! Defend marriage today!"

Ahem. If he (or anyone else with that sticker) really gave a crap about children, he'd put his energy and money towards an actual helpful cause. What the bumper sticker should really say is this: "I hate fags but I'm too chicken shit to come right out and say so, so I made something up!" Yup, that's about right.
I wonder what Wolvie thinks of people like that.
Oh. Right. I knew that.

Yes, I DO have a tartan!

The Jacobite tartan is the tartan of Galicia, Asturias and Catalunya and is believed to have originated in Barcelona. I have much ancestry from Galicia, which is where my family name is from. They are one of the seven Celtic nations and the one believed to be where the Irish came from. Actually, one of my Galician ancestors was an Irish immigrant. I don't know why I never thought to look it up before. My dad told me we had a tartan but I thought he was making it up. It's not as loud as my husband's, but not as pretty either. Ah well. Mine's nice for autumn, his is nice for winter. I'm so superficial.

Reality

So I was listening to NPR and they were talking about a recent discovery of a book that Archimedes had written and it had been erased and written over by a monk as a book of Christian prayers. So this rich guy bought it and wanted to have the text revealed but it was too old for the usual UV method so the people he had hired to do it decided they needed a particle accelerator. This was Uwe Bergmann's lucky day.

Poor Uwe Bergmann probably spent his entire youth busting his butt to be a scientist. He probably had dreams of new discoveries that would revolutionize the world and take his mind to new levels. In his dreams of tomorrow, he never thought about who would actually pay him to do this stuff. The hard reality was that a scientist studies whatever the person who is forking out the money wants him to. So he and his incredibly advanced skills of detection and discovery, together with a particle accelerator were hired to study spinach. Yup, spinach. There are people using particle accelerators to try to achieve teleportation and they're actually getting somewhere, but his benefactors were interested in the iron content of spinach. I don't know why, maybe they wanted to know if they could make a spinach robot that would be strong like Popeye and take over the world or something, but that's not important.

So this guy is probably bored out of his skull, using his bazillion dollar equipment and skills to study spinach for some eccentric wealthy person when he read about the Archimedes discovery and they were talking about trying to pick out forgeries and that somehow iron in the ink was significant. Man, the heavens must have opened and shone down into that guy's lab that day. He called up these folks and said that he was studying iron with a particle accelerator and could he pretty please leave his crappy job for their cool one. Lucky him, he got the job.

Can you imagine? All that potential and they're bound by whatever retard has the money to fund a study of dust bunnies or whatever that particular rich wackadoo is obsessed with. Oh man, what a life. THAT'S why there are mad scientists. Aren't there?

Pork. That starts with "P" which rhymes with "T" and that stands for trouble!

Last night my husband grilled the pork loin of the gods. It was so good. When he sliced it up, I said "ooooh, is that a smoke ring?" and Bobby, who was feeling a bit territorial yelled "HEY! Is that a fuckin' smoke ring?! Who authorized this?!" and then he wanted to fight. Hugh, ever the peaceful and happy guy, tried to calm him down while the rest just kinda stood back hoping for the brawl to begin. I later explained to Bobby that as head harem boy, Brian can do whatever he likes, as long as he gets my approval for safety reasons. He was not pleased with this, although he knows the rules. I haven't really met many people who don't get along with Brian. This doesn't bode well for Mr. Flay. The other harem boys are thrilled. They are so very mercenary.

Frightening

I was in the car today, listening to the radio and they were playing some really cool stuff like Aerosmith and Credence and then I drove through one of the funky zones in my area where they apparently have underground nuclear facilities in which they hide UFO's and do brain wave experiments, and the signals started crossing with another station that had on Rush Limbaugh! So I'd be happy and then Rush Limbaugh! EEEWWW! Of course, I finally changed it, but that was just horrible and confusing. My brain cannot register Aerosmith and Rush Limbaugh together. I'm lucky it didn't shut down! That could happen you know! The shock and all!