1. My stepmother doesn’t have the best of luck with cars. Her last car had the well earned nickname of “The Dingmobile”–and in fact had so many battle scars that a body shop employee, sent to evaluate damage from a rear end collision, had to ask “Which part, exactly, am I looking at?”. So it’s been a bit of a surprise that her current car, which she’s driven for more than five years now, has only suffered a few rock chips and the occasional scrape. Last weekend, a friend and I remarked that this car was, comparitively speaking, in very good condition. Well, we jinxed it. While having a flat tire repaired, a tire shop employee backed into her car, causing a few grand in damage.
2. Speaking of wrecked cars…I went to a demolition derby this weekend. It was held as part of the fair that’s going on. “Fair” in case you didn’t know, is from the Latin, for “gathering of really ugly people with orange hair and black roots wearing heavy metal T-shirts”. This is the sort of event that would seem to be a little out of character for me to be attending. As I relayed to a friend my evening plans, she stopped me short.
me: “I’m going to a demolition derby.”
her: “A what?1?!”
me: “A demolition derby”
her: “Well, why? Is it luxury cars or something?”
3. That same friend, who is an art teacher, relayed an awkward moment she’d had last week. Her students were working on drawings. As is her custom when they are working, she had music playing, and had chosen some Bob Marley classics. She was working the classroom, going from student to student showing them how to use the “blender” on their art. Now, I imagine some out there don’t know what a blender looks like, so here’s a pic (the white, unnumbered stick):
So her principal walks in, with a flabbergasted look that she can’t quite figure out until she drinks in the scene: she’s walking around a room with the tunes of Bob Marley playing holding this thing that looks like a joint behind her ear. She’s hoping he figured out what it was.
4. Going back to the fair…I saw the most heinous breast implants EVER there. This poor girl must have found someone to do them in their basement. They were so far apart that you could have fit a third one in there, and so high, it almost looked like a pair of shoulder pads. There is no way whatever she was born with was worse than what she ended up with.
5. I don’t guess there’s really a point to this mornings little inspirational poster. But if you must have one: Dick Cheney gives me the willies.