What is it about that corn?

I thought you should know.

Insidious Thanksgiving VyeRuss

Tonight I received an email warning me of a horrible virus. It was forwarded by a dear friend to whom 47 is a distant memory.

 

The message that he forwarded IS the "virus." It's a Holiday Bump and it's really very sweet.

 

Most "viruses" do things to our computers without our consent. We worry that we'll be stripped of confidential information, suffer identity theft, and end our days in misery and want. In order for them to do anything, they must contain executable code which can hi-jack the operating system.

 

The email is forwarded for no other reason than...to inspire you to forward the email. If you forward the email to everyone in your address book, and each of those people forwards it to everyone they know, traffic could get a little dicey.

 

Here's another one that I just made up. This email contains a virus that causes your front porch light bulb to go out. The purpose of this virus is to cause everyone who reads it to get up and check their porch light. It does not intend to be forwarded to anyone else, because it is so easy to check that the porch light did not, in fact, go out.

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Check out AOL Money & Finance's list of the hottest products and top money wasters of 2007.

Have we no shame?

See link: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/article?o=2&f=/c/a/2007/11/18/BAJRTF0EN.DTL

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Crazy is as Crazy Do!

Michael Grbich, the 75 year old Oaklander who recently tap danced his way across the Golden Gate Bridge "because he could!", would have been stunned with a cattle prod and served up at SFGeneral on a stainless steel gurney had it not been for the 60 or so friends, fans and family he had invited to attend this festive, theatrical, and athletic event.

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/11/18/BAJRTF0EN.DTL

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Henckels Ever Sharp Ginzu Knives

So, Henckels "Ever Sharp" -- are these Ginzu Knives?

Tonight I gently, oh, so gently sliced a ripe avocado while holding the knife in my left hand and the avocado in my right. Dinner was lovely - roast pork loin, steamed broccoli and basmati coconut rice with a green salad.Yum.Washing the dishes, I noticed a sharp pain in my right index finger. wtf?

I now have bandaids on two fingers of my right hand. These knives are so intensely sharp, the concept of a "gentle" stroke is unknown to them. Oh, god, I just realized that the other finger must have been sliced when I was slicing carrots for pug treats. The damage was done two days ago, and I've been unsuccessful with NuSkin (liquid bandage, paints on like nail polish and claims to disinfect and seal slight wounds and promote healing) so today I gave in. I peroxided, treated it with antibacterial ointment, and wrapped in a bandaid.

Are these knives from the devil? Other options suggest that my life may have simply been lead without sharp knives until now, or else my coordination is failing and I am currently incapable of doing anything in a truly gentle manner.

Oddience

Through a numbing of the senses brought on by a saturation of media, one may commonly fail to realize the importance of an audience, which is essential to live performance.
How strange it must seem to be a performer on stage before a "live" audience, and to get nothing back from them. Such a passive audience might as well stay home with the pugs.
Experience in front of a live audience is a necessary ingredient for an aspiring actor.
As an audience member who is more than willing to suspend my disbelief, I respect the power of influence that theatre can have over me.
I sense discomfort in some around me when I express a reaction to something on stage. This discomfort is representative of such audience members' inability or unwillingness to believe, even within the confines of the evening, that the characters and events enacted on stage are limited by the capacity of mortal actors performing roles.

Tweaker or Tweasure?

So it must have looked odd for N and J to prowl through the rooms with me, poking under sinks, while little G plopped in front of the television which was, surprisingly, in the exact same spot as when her Nonnie lived there.
At lunch, neither N nor G ate much of anything, although both picked at their food. J polished off a serving of sliders, and I had a generous cheeseburger and a huge side caeser.
I should have offered the salad to the girl. It's called a "salad" to imply lightweight roughedge and health, but by the time they smother the poor lettuce in creamy high-fructose hydrogenated dressing you might as well be enjoying a chocolate milkshake.
Back at the house, LuLu was insistant upon an early supper. She was having at my heels, and lunging at me from behine.