Wednesday, March 27, 2013

"Davenport, Iowa, You're on the Air"

Q: How long's it been since we've had a Larry King post? A: Too long!

I've started looking for a replacement for Google Reader. What I want is for the people buying the Twinkie brand name to do the same thing here. Just keep Google Reader going. But no dice. (What does this mean for my self-touted predictive powers? Jack squat, since Reader is a free service.) So far I'm not satisfied with anything possible. I don't think I'm the only person left who reads blogs, right? I might be the only person left writing one, but that's something else.

Remember that crazy-ass student that I had to read the Riot Act to last semester? And then she signed up for my class again this semester? Class started and she didn't attend at all. The drop deadline came and went and she still hadn't shown up once. I figured, "She must have dropped and the roll just hasn't updated yet." Then she came three times in four chances. Then she didn't come back for a month. I was wondering if I'd see her at the midterm. She didn't attend. I thought, "She must have really dropped this time." Then she e-mailed me that weekend about why she missed the midterm. I had an undergraduate professor who recommended making students in this situation sweat, not responding to their e-mails so they have to actually come see you. If she couldn't be bothered making it to the midterm, I can take a day or two to write back. Right? No. She has forwarded her original message to me. See, because some schedules matter. Not mine, but some.

Front-Row Student 1: "You have a teenage son, right?" A Random Stranger: "No." FRS1: "You don't have a teenage son?" ARS: "Not that I know of." Front-Row Student 2: [immature laughter]

Running joke at my place: every spot is "the dirtiest spot in our house." Drop a toothbrush on the bathroom floor? Kick a binkie under the kitchen cabinets? Lay down immediately inside the front door? Why are you doing that in the dirtiest spot in our house? (This makes it seem like we live in squalor. I used to tell our family we lived in squalor until I helped a ward family move and saw what true squalor is. We live in a freakin' sparkling palace compared to that. The roaches hadn't even survived; they were dead under the furniture.)

I have "football boots" (soccer cleats) coming in the mail. I'm super excited about them. Like "post a picture on the blog" excited. And don't think I won't do it, too.

What's the most hygienic way to fill these? I own ten of them now.

I don't mean to say things at Extended Ward Council that will get me uninvited to future Extended Ward Councils. It just comes naturally to me.

Couldn't stay up for last night's 10:30 PM kickoff between USMNT and Mexico, but couldn't go out of the house today without finding out the result, so had to wake up Articulate Joe at 6:30 AM and watch the game before work. Wednesday is the new Saturday! Huge result. The fact that Internet trolls are complaining about an ugly-ass draw is a good sign: expectations are advancing. But why does it seem like we've taken a step back in personnel since 2010? And would anyone seriously expect a result like this in Brazil?

Two weeks of prunes ("dried plums") now and STILL gagging on each bite. Maybe I'll never adjust.

I was going to write something Jerome said today about the president, but the county would take my kids away. Don't let them ever convince you that the U.S. of A. can't run with the best of them when it comes to suppression of free speech.

Old news: I complain to my wife "I'm the world's fattest man." New wrinkle: I add, "I have an app that confirms it."

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