Name:
Location: St. Vincent & Grenadines

You were driving home in the dark on one glass-slippered heel, window sliced open and bathing in the snowliquor of the night air. We heard you singing, and couldn't bear to wake you.

16 April 2005

We have to shout above the din of our Rice Krispies.

I wish Blogger made it easier to post images. My attempts to navigate Flickr have been frustrating so far. Reason I mention it, the other day I was in Safeway and found myself transfixed by an ad on the floor. An ad for Chicken of the Sea canned tuna fish. A guy, the kind of guy you see in every WB soap opera, the stereotypical repugnantly casual-empty sensitive guitar-playing former-frat-boy suburban white male low-key stud, is holding aloft a can of Chicken of the Sea. The text reads: "What Women Really Want."

I was transfixed for at least a full minute, and then when I tried to move on I had to go back and look at it again for a while. I was caught in a hellish limbo of appalled amusement.

Speaking of appalled amusement, here are four non sequiturial links:

Fecalgram: not, I would venture to guess, what women really want.

How Berkeley Can You Be? Hang in there and keep scrolling. It gets worse.

Hieronymus Bosch action figures.

And finally, exhibitionist horseradish.

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