Friday, February 10, 2006

The Olympic Opening Ceremonies

Why am I watching this? It's 10:30 Mountain Time, I started watching around 6:30, and I have yet to think any of this is a very good idea.

At what point did the Olympic Opening Ceremonies become...

Oh, @#$%. It's Yoko Ono. Seriously. That woman makes me want to turn against peace. In fact, Yoko One makes me want to throw bricks at all shortish widows of former Beatles. She really knows how to milk John's legacy, doesn't she?

Okay, back to my point (I'm ignoring Peter Gabriel and his floating piano stand). When did the Olympic Ceremonies become a jumbo discount Cirque du Soleil? If you went from the bizarro ceremonies at the Olympics, you'd think that all people cared about in the host country was ancient history, ugly clothes and modern dance. Where the @#$% do they find all the acrobats, dippy dancers and silly costumers for these things? I'm sure most of Italy is watching this and is collectively slapping their forehead.

My theory: The wealthy backers of the Olympics bring the Olympics to town for the sole purpose of employing their underachieving children who got a useless degree and are now living in the basement waiting for their "big break".

I guess people pay to see stuff like this all the time. After all, people pay to see Cirque and all that stuff. There's something to watching people dressed in tights zip about that really appeals to upper middle class folks in search of culture.

Oh, here comes the torch. Flame on!

Passing thought: Why do the Americans use a Canadian company to make their winter gear for the ceremonies? Those outfits are dumb.

This torch thing is taking a while. Did you see Sophia Loren? She looks like she's slowly turning into gold. Why was Susan Sarandon there? I like Susan Sarandon, but, what was that..?

Whoa. the Olympic Flame looks like it should have Sauron's eye looking out of it. It's creepy.

Ah, well. No Katie Couric to ruin it all for me like she did the Summer Olympics. And every other thing she's ever managed to worm her way into. Just Costas and Brian Williams giving us the play-by-play of which country hates which other country as they entered the arena. Never thought you'd those Danish athletes looking over their shoulder, did you?

Well, now I have to sit through a lot of figure skating. The hardest part about that is not making comments upon what a fine figure some of the lady skaters make.

Oh, f'ing sweet. It's f'ing Pavarotti. Whoa. Dude, I can tell you're using "Just for Men". Wow, he's good. This is the first thing that's impressed me yet.

I guess I'll watch the luge. I like anything involving hurtling down a hill at very dangerous speeds with a high chance of a bone shattering wipe-out.

Pavarotti is wearing an f'ing cape. He's a total ruler. Man, that guy rocks the house.

That torch is totally freaking me out. Who was that? She was cute. I'm going to find out she's 15 and get in trouble.

Fireworks! SHAZAM!

Wow, that's way better than the fireworks in Chandler.

Young prosecutors, real consequences, only one thing counts... CONVICTION.

You know, when Steanso was a young defense attorney, I seem to recall him saying that was exactly the problem. Oh, well. He totally sold out and works for the system now. Way to become a tool of The Man.

Who the hell is Mary Carillo? She has a nice, tenor voice.

Anyway, I don't use the word "fruity" lightly, because I usually don't like the connotation. But, Leaguers, these Olympic openings seem to get fruitier and fruitier. Just watching the montage here at the end is making me realize that I will never get back the last four hours of my life. I am hard pressed to believe that if the show that I just watched wasn't tied to the Olympics that a single person would have watched it from beginning to end.

I also am totally baffled by the Bode Miller deal. He just doesn't interview well. What's the story here? He's a 20-something that drinks on the weekend? Stop the @#$%ing presses! Why are people turning on this guy? He's the first person I've liked in the olympics who wasn't a Russian female figure skater. He also keeps telling the press he doesn't care for them. Well, they LOVE that, Bode. Ah, well. I still have no idea what his sport is.

Ah, well. I just want to give a final salute to the guys who intentionally set their heads on fire and skated around the arena. That's dedication, Leaguers.

And an extra shout out to the poor balding bastard who got thrown off the Skeleton Crew for using Propecia. That poor guy just wanted to reduce the shine for a while longer... The anti-doping agency is dumb.

Oh my GOD, my local network sent their dumbest Scottsdale bimbo to the Olympics for local coverage. Ughhh... I can take no more.

Seacrest out.
I can only point you to this story from The Beat.

Apparently Disney and NBC/ Universal have come to some sort of odd swap that trades my favorite fixture of Football Sportscasting for Oswald the Lucky Rabbit.

Yes, it seems Al Michaels is being swapped for Walt Disney's beta-version of Mickey Mouse, which was owned by Universal.

With this item and the story on NPR today about the potential for the IRS to begin taxing awards won in games like World of Warcraft that now appear to have real financial value, I can only feel like the boundaries between the real and the imaginary are at last collapsing in a way which will really suit my lifestyle.

Man, I would give my left arm to be swapped for QuickDraw McGraw. That would be so @#$%ing cool.
I know what ice cream treat The League will be enjoying this summer. The Superman Homepage has a blurb on an upcoming Superman themed ice cream treat from Nestle's.

Read here.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Worst Idea in the World Files

Wow. I HAVE to assume, despite the reliable news source, that this is a joke.

Randy sends this along.

Jamie is sitting behind me shouting "How?" "Why?"

I can assume that if your career plans involve a well secured brass pole that you might find a use.

Ladies, one day you may be a sweet 'ol granny. Just keep that in mind when you decide it would be awesome to have your boob playing Outkast.

I do wonder: How does one recharge the device? If a little gel causes cancer, what's a leaky battery going to do?

I can't wait to be able to download "Boot Scoot Boogie" to my pace maker and have "Enter Sandman" as part of my "male enhancement" plans.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Real-Life Superheroes File: Mr. Silent

In case you missed it a while back when we discussed Real-Life Superhero Mr. Silent, you might want to check this out.

Anyhoo, go through the comments section. Mr. Silent takes some time out of his busy schedule to drop a "howdy" to The League and explain a bit about himself.

This is THRICE that someone commented upon has popped up to put in their two cents after I made a post. I'm pretty darn excited by this incident as, well, Mr. Silent is a SUPERHERO. As you know, The League supports superheroes, but it's not often we get one chiming in.

So, thanks, Mr. Silent! Keep up the good work. We appreciate all that you do.

Now, let's be careful out there.
Your results:
You are Superman
Superman
80%
Robin
57%
Green Lantern
55%
Supergirl
53%
Spider-Man
50%
Batman
50%
Iron Man
50%
Hulk
40%
Wonder Woman
38%
Catwoman
35%
The Flash
30%
You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.
Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz
Judy and Dick are here, kicking it in-law style. So don't expect much in the way of posts until the visit draws to a conclusion.

And I want to say, I just knew folks were going to jump all over the giant rabbit. I received the pic from a co-worker, and I'm still not sure what the story is.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Monday, February 06, 2006

I just find it interesting that Danish filmmaker Lars Von Trier's new film condemning American culture is quietly opening in the US while the Middle East has gone batshit over a Danish cartoon.

You know, The League took a year of Danish in college. Seriously.

1) I dropped Spanish after the first day as the teacher refused to speak any English. It wasn't my fault my Spanish teacher in high school was, shall we say, laissez faire, and let us play cards during class (but never for money!).

At UT there was some rule that if you had two years of high school Spanish you HAD to take advanced beginning Spanish as we should all have been on the same level.

Oh, mercy. Excuse me while I wipe a tear from my eye and get some air.

Viva Klein Oak!

2) I was flunking Italian in my second semester (taken because CB told us the class was "great"). Hey, CB, you ended up dropping... What DID you take? Did you snake your way into Sign Language? I bet you did.. Anyway, we were flunking Italian in our second semester despite daily attendance and always doing our homework. A large part of the problem was that I kept slipping into the Spanish I had taken. And I was very distracted the first semester by a delightful pair of squirrels living in the oak tree outside the window.

3) I was going to take Finnish so I could surprise my grandmother, but that class was full. Terence said "there's lots of girls in Danish", and then I found out that Danish was "accelerated." You only needed two semesters of Danish rather than four of other languages. Of course you also met 6 hours a week for two semesters.

My instructor had a hearing problem, and I suspect he was usually hung over. But he also bought us booze. Good guy.

I only remember a few phrases from the class. I can:

a) order a cup of coffee (Jeg vil gerne hav en kappe kaffee)
b) order you to shove it "up your pipe" (I don't know how this is written, but I think it's: Op jig ruv hol)
c) solicit you for sex (Vil du kneppe med mig?)

Well, really, I think that could get me by in Denmark for about a month.

Overall, I didn't see Denmark as being a hostile place. They're the land of Hans Christian Andersen for God's sake. They all own pugs and think they have tiny trolls living in their teeth.
SuperBowl Weekend

Oh, The League should never be trusted to lay bets. Last night I boldly proclaimed that the Seattle Seahawks would win by less than 7.

The League was so very wrong.

Honestly, I didn't care who won, but I just thought the Seahawks were going to surprise people. Well, yes... they surprised me. Luckily I didn't have any money on it.

Ah, heck. I like Bettis. The Steelers are a fun team. Congrats.

That said, I also watched about 70% of PuppyBowl II (featuring the all-new Kitten Half-Time Show). Well, "watched" is a strong word. It was on while I was in the room. But it's hard to beat three hours of puppies playing. Even when you have your own puppy tearing up what was once a very pretty little backyard.

Anyhoo, congrats to the puppies of Puppy Bowl. Those kids are going places.

Saturday, February 04, 2006

Just a quick note about something that happens alot in movies and TV:

Small people with a few quick punches or a fancy kick can't usually actually knock down really big dudes.

Look, The League is a fairly big dude. And every once in a while while watching TV or a movie I'll see a 98 pound girl try a karate kick at some big guy who, of course, is standing completely still. What should be noted is that big guys are used to having to slog themselves around. Their bodies aren't a complete surprise to them. Stuff bumps into us all the time.

This probably isn't what very tiny people want to hear, but if the big person is at all used to fighting, your fancy kick is, at best, going to slow down the Really Big Dude.

Further, just FYI, it is really, really hard in real life to flip a big guy who doesn't want to be flipped. How many of you out there think you can pick up a 250 pound sack of rocks and throw it over your shoulder? Yes, yes... You can use someone's momentum against them. But if that person is any sort of experienced fighter, and unless you're a much, much better fighter, the big guy can probably deduce what you're up to and lean the other way. And even if he does go forward, how likely do you think it is he isn't going to grab you and land on you, Bruce Lee?

Sometimes I really miss my days in TaeKwonDo. But one thing I really don't miss is when I would have to spar people 1/3rd my size. (1) I always had to be really, really careful with small people. Small people tend to sail through the air in a really unattractive fashion with a solid kick. Or, if you mistime a spinkick and hit them in the back (illegal in TKD) they tend to just sort of go down. And then you have to go talk to their millionaire husbands and make them understand that there's no money there if they were thinking of sueing. (2) Small people can be a lot faster and be a smaller target. With the rules of sparring being what they are, this works in small people's favor. It's just a grossly unrealistic way of looking at how a fight would end if it wasn't a judged tournament. (Of course, some people just see you across the mat and they get "the fear", believing you will, in fact, take their block off. The League once had a high school kid run out of the ring away from him. It was sad.)

Now, I'm not saying small people can't take out bigger people, becasue they can and they do. The League has had his ass handed to him by many people, not the least of which was his alarmingly nimble instructor. Also, although not small, Dan Peters is a lot faster than he looks.

I'm mostly just trying to do two things:
1) dispel the notion that a fancy kick you saw on TV is going to do much if you're small
2) dispel the idea that big guys will generally go down with a single pop any more than small people might

So what should tiny people know? The League is no master of self-defense, but here's what we think:

Run away. There's no shame in running. Violence never solved anything. Except for proving to the Russians that our blue collar American work ethic could overcome the commies' science-zombie super-soldier boxer in Rocky IV. Suck on that, Mother Russia.

Go for the face. If you do connect, you're hitting a nerve point in there somewhere. Ears are good, especially if you can get a grip and pull real hard. Eyes are mushy. Noses hit properly will blind for a few crucial seconds. Also, the throat (not the neck) is good, too. Punch it hard.

DO NOT GO FOR THE CROTCH (unless you know what you're doing). This is usually taught in self-defense class, and I guess maybe it will work, but... Most guys learned to duck a kick to the groin at age 5. Ask any guy. Trust me, any dude who is paying attention will turn to the side, you will miss and they will be very, very angry. (This is also a constant movie cliche of over-confident bad-guys. They always stand squarely facing the target and within knee's reach. This is silly).

Use what's on hand. Your body is soft and fleshy. When flesh hits flesh, it hurts slightly more than hitting someone with a beef-log (unwrapped). You will also hurt yourself if you connect with bone. Just so you know, keys jabbing into your ribs hurt really, really bad. Phones and remotes make excellent projectiles.

Be loud. Don't just scream, scream that you're being attacked. Scream specifics. If nothing works, scream that there's a fire. People will always come to check on a fire, just in case. And don't quit screaming.

Anyway, that's a really long post inspired by a really dumb fight scene I just watched.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Artist Seth Fisher has died

I'd only recently been turned onto his work through Green Lantern: WillWorld and Batman: Snow in the ongoing Batman: Legend of the Dark Knight.

The man was incredibly talented. I'm not sure what else to say.

Read here and here and here.

For Fisher's own site, go here.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

ooooohhhh

The UK ToyFair is on in, uh, the UK.

The ToyFair is an event at which toy makers set up in a convention center and buyers from stores decide what they will stock for the next year (to some extent).

Anyhoo, it's gotta be a fun sort of thing to go to. They do have one in the US, and it usually inspires quite a few "Toys That Should Not Be" postings.

To see what toy The League wants, go here.

Jamie will be sad to know that this item will probably only be available in the UK.
Jim D's Conversational Shorthand Meme

Recently Jim D. said the following:

I have noticed that I have begun to use a conversational shorthand when conversing with people with whom I will likely never see again.

And then said:

...In the mere exchange of conversational pleasantries, is it easier simply to allow the conversation to run its course without the unnecessary addition of too many details?

Read all of Jim's post here.

And then Distorted Veracity chimed in here.

I'm going to pick up on the theme and try and turn this into some sort of meme.

In his travels, Jim's walking through a world of anonymous faces, and maybe that's a bit of what he's doing in Beaumont. I don't know, and I would hate to speak for him.

Surely as much as he's limiting his conversations for expediency, there has to be some knowledge that anonymity has it's virtues, and getting too attached to a waitress at the diner or the cab driver from the hotel isn't going to go much of anywhere.

I think I've sort of been doing this with every single person I've met since I arrived in Arizona.

Sure, there are a few people I talk to regularly and in some detail, but I am aware that I go for weeks on end speaking with only my office mates, my local comic shop guy and Jamie. That's been the sum total of my social circle since my arrival in Phoenix. I can't recall the last time I stood in the yard and talked to my neighbor or the last time I had a conversation with someone that wasn't really somehow work related.

I guess what's bothering me as I head towards my fourth year in the desert is the knowledge that there's been a certain distance kept, as if I know I'm just passing through this place. Most of the staff knows Jamie's name and she's met most everybody at least once, although I suspect some of our newer folks aren't even sure I'm married. Aside from that, I'm not sure how much I've really offered up.

Maybe a few people know my political views. Some could tell you a movie or two I like. Some could venture a guess at a book I may have read. Maybe a few could even tell you around when I was in college. For the most part I'm not sure how much folks know about me. Admittedly, that's a two-way street. I'm sure in most offices you're just not that involved with one another no matter how many hours a week you spend sharing the same recycled air. And maybe I'm misreading all of this, and maybe these folks all know me better than I realize. Maybe it's me that's missing out on the details.

The endless condition of acquaintance is not something I'll miss one day when I put the Valley of the Sun in the rearview mirror. I'm tired of working friendships and conversations where I edit and edit and edit before I feel like I've watered down whatever it was I planned to say until it was safe for public consumption. And maybe I'm wrong and that wasn't what I had to do in the first place, but when you're just passing through, sometimes you want to leave as few ripples as possible.

Monday, January 30, 2006

Huh.

This is why I am a firm supporter of the red velvet rope.

You know, when I was in high school a security guard at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts got pissy with me for supposedly standing too close to a painting. I'm not sure what the proper distance is supposed to be, but I was looking at the brush work on a 300 year-old oil painting, so I can understand them being a bit touchy.

Note I said "a bit touchy", not "GET AWAY FROM THE PAINTING!" touchy.

That said, I had my hands folded behind my back and was only leaning in slightly. i doubt I was even breathing on the picture.

To this day I prefer science museums. Nobody ever gets mad at you for looking too closely at a geode.

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Weekend Round-Up:

Ah, what a weekend!

End of last week saw the end of an era at my job as co-worker Maria put in her resignation. While I'm very excited for her new opportunity, I am less excited about the length of time it takes to hire somebody at my Employing University. I suspect we'll see a replacement in, like, 6 months. The League strongly suspects he will be asked to wear two hats in the interim and then train the new person in the ways of our office. We also thought Maria was a pretty nice person, so we're going to miss her sunny disposition. And my office needs all the sunshine it can get. It's windowless. But, yes, I have an office all to myself. Eat that, private sector cube monkeys!

Friday night League HQ watched the Suns play the Atlanta Hawks and barely squeeze out a victory over a team they mangled in their last meeting. Good for the Hawks for not sucking anymore, I guess. Since we lost to the Cavs today, I have to wonder about The Suns' falling fortunes. We need Amare back. Now.

Saturday night Doug and Kristen were scheduled to come through PHX as part of a cross-country jaunt. They're assisting former SneakyFrog co-habitants MJ and Shannon in their big move from the Bay Area to Boston. It's a long story, and I'll let Doug tell it if you're interested, but due to some less than honest advertising the moving company didn't finish until 15 hours or something after they were supposed to finish. This delayed the first day of travelling completely, and meant that instead of arriving in time for dinner last night, Doug and Kristen rolled in around 1:00am.

We all sort of sat in the living room trying to be polite for about ten minutes before everybody headed off for bed.

MJ and Shannon came over for breakfast this morning (we had Kirby Lane pancakes and bacon), chatted for a while, inherited a Santor present (Klingon headpiece and make-up kit). I know for a fact that Kristen didn't pay for the thing, but got it at a gift exchange, so I'm wondering how many hands this thing has passed through, and how many more it will pass through before Santor releases this present from his grip.

Jamie had a brilliant idea today, and for some reason I went along with it for a few minutes. It was a beautiful 72 degrees and sunny as all heck, so Jamie decided she was going to "go nap in the backyard with the dogs". She grabbed a few towels, a blanket and a pillow, and with my half-hearted assurance that the dogs wouldn't bother her, she went out there to go lay down.

A few minutes later I looked out the window and Lucy was licking Jamie's head and Mel was circling. Deciding my presence was the missing ingredient, I planted myself on the towel. Mel lay down with the "bad end" toward my head and otherwise it was nice. For about ten seconds. Then Lucy came back by and dropped a tennis ball on us, and Mel started wagging his tail and kicking dirt and grass up all over us.

And thus ended the Great Backyard Nap Experiment.

While waiting for Doug and Kristen, I updated some of my links that were sadly out of date. RHPT.com, you are officially dropped from the blogroll.

Anyway, not much else.

Get over to Nanostalgia.com to see what's going on.

In the news:

Hussein trial: Is anyone else wishing we'd just grabbed Hussein and brought him to stand trial at The Hague? Between the mix of side-show and Kangaroo Court, this probably isn't going according to script.

Alito: I am not crazy about a guy Frist described as "a liberal's worst nightmare", but I'm also rolling my eyes at John Kerry's 11th hour attempt to get a filibuster.

Hamas in Charge: Democracy! Wow!

British Murdering Dude: As much as I want to believe people aren't all complete scumbags, I have learned to quit believing people are innocent until proven guilty when their children and spouse turn up shot and the most likely candidate happens to have skipped town at the same time.

Friday, January 27, 2006

My Precious....

So, yesterday while I was lathering up with some irish Spring in the ol' shower Jamie announced that she had lost her engagement ring.

For some reason I can't ever remember a time when Jamie's wedding band and engagement rings actually fit her fingers (my ring fits great, thanks for asking) and she spends all day doing two things:

1. Taking her rings on and off or switching them around on her fingers.
2. Using copious amounts of hand lotion to fight off the debilitating desert air.

I'd pretty much decided about 5 years ago Jamie would lose her rings at some point, and so when she announced she'd lost the ring I don't think I displayed the proper panic.

I did finish my shower, comb my hair and put on some undies in hopes of assisting, but was, instead, shoo'd out the door. Still, while I knew I was now going to have to save up to buy an all new engagement ring, I still don't think I ever really went overboard about the whole incident.

That, and it wasn't one of Jamie's two daily activities that had led to the whole debacle. Apparently she'd taken off her rings to eat ribs, and we'd gone to the ribs place because I like to go there and watch basketball on their giant TV. So Jamie was humoring me just by being there.

The ring, itself, is a copy of a family heirloom and actually has the diamonds FROM the family heirloom embedded in it. So, you know, you're really not supposed to lose completely irraplaceable family jewelry. And buying a new ring would have been a nice thing to do, but it wouldn't have resolved that issue.

Anyhoo, 9:30 last night they called and someone found the ring at Damon's. Hooray! Tonight we're stapling the ring to Jamie's finger.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

THE LEAGUE DISPENSES PARENTING ADVICE

This lady is really, really smart.

Do you know why I get to say this? Because I worked at the Disney Store for three summers and 1 summer at Chuck E. Cheese.

There's something about having kids under the age of 5 that makes some people convinced that Satan himself is trying to somehow corrupt your kid. 9 out of 10 times, it's nothing the kid would have ever noticed if the parent hadn't misinterpreted it and then made a big deal out of it.

About once every two weeks when I was a Disney employee making $5.00/ hr, somebody would locate me and start telling me how some tower in Little Mermaid looked too much like a penis, or they'd have to tell me how aghast they were at the famous "SEX" in the clouds in Lion King. The common denominator was that it was invariably something their stupid kid never would have noticed if Mommy wasn't getting her panties in a bunch about it. (How they thought their 2 year old child knew what an erect penis looked like was a bit of a mystery best left unexplored.)

I usually would humor these angry guests for a minute and then point out a manager. If a manager wasn't readily available, I would ask "Was your child upset by this?" which was probably not what Disney wanted me to do, but I figured I could probably find another $5.00/ hr job if push came to shove. Without fail, the child now only knew that the Disney Store was now suddenly a "bad" place full of wicked $5.00/ hr clock watchers but wasn't sure what the hubbub was really about.

Look, there is SOME stuff in Disney movies that shouldn't probably be there. The priest's erection in Little Mermaid comes to mind. That's no urban myth. The supposed one frame of Jessica Rabbit I've also seen confirmed. However... That stuff is fairly well hidden. If the two frames of filth have forever warped your child, you're a terrible parent and you're doing an awful job of preparing your kid for life. These are not the messages you get to relay when you don the polyester sweater and form fitting pants.

If the 1/24th of second of obscenity is bugging you that much, Disney has a policy that you can, at any time, return any Disney product to a Disney Store and receive some sort of refund. I am sure by offering up this info that I just broke a non-disclosure agreement, but it's true. If Mickey or Goofy are on the item, you can drop it there and get some sort of reimbursement.

The flipside of this is, of course, that for every one of these parents who is trying to shelter their kids from the storm, there's 5 of the "throw 'em in the deep end" variety dropping the f-bomb because they can't find the right size princess dress for their kid.

The League is not wholly convinced that these parents aren't usually one and the same. It all sort of depends on their mood and who they want to blame today that their kid is a little hooligan.

But this isn't Disney we're talking about. These are the post-Jim Henson muppets who speak in freakish falsettos and act like morons day after day and sell damned-near anywhere. But since he's a Muppet and not a Disney character, you can't return Elmo to the Disney Store. So...Before you jump in the Excursion to demand your money back at Wal-Mart, The League suggests you consider the following:

-If Elmo's weird little friend's garbled squeakings sound to you like "Who wants to die?" let's think of it as a Rorshach test, mommy. Maybe it's time for you to take a look around the house and see what needs changing.

-If Elmo's weird little friend is, in fact, asking "Who wants to die?", you gotta look at the bright side. Maybe your kid is just learning about goth kids at an early age.

-Finally, if you're reading your kid an electronic talking book about how to take a pee, The League would suggest you need to sit back and take a good, long, hard assessment of your life.

Look, if you want to be concerned about your kids learning how human beings are, I highly suggest locking them in a box until they're 18. Then let them out. As an adult with adult experiences, you may read all kinds of stuff into works which were never intended to be all that filthy. Further, calling CNN because there's bad audio in your Elmo read-a-long book is a cry for help.

Sometimes bad audio compression is just bad audio compression.

And that's the advice today from Uncle League.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

A Few Quick Items

A) Hey, look! It's Carla Beth! Carla was my roommate in college and a collaborator throughout film school. She's a peach of a girl, now living in North Carolina, and she's got her own blog.

For those of you wondering what Carla is up to, check it out.

B) I've posted an opinion on the Disney/ Pixar deal at Nanostalgia.com.

C) For a whole, wide array of Toys That Should Not Be, go here.

D) "Flava of Love" makes me weep for the Public Enemy of my youth. Yet I cannot look away.

E) I feel like I need a fifth item, but I can't think of one. Uhm. The new sandwich place I tried the other day promised my sandwich came with fries. What they did not say was that the fries were IN the sandwich. That was not good.