peristaltor: (Default)
Saw a private school bus today, one that sported an acorn emblem. I wondered immediately if the symbolism was caught in any way by the extremely wealthy folks who send their sprogs there. After all, Bill Gates lives in that neighborhood.

Yes, yes, Private School, acorns grow to mighty oaks. Duh. When the seeds/spawn drop from the most privileged society has to offer, though, what the fuck else would they become? Just about all of these little acorns will brag later that they hit homes runs in life (taking care not to mention the being born on third base detail).

By contrast, consider the hayseed. It will grow up in likely crowded conditions, only to be later mowed down, chewed up again and again, and in the end its like will be bullshit.
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
At work today, a co-worker shared a bit of her lunch, some Italian salami. Bad news, though; it was starting to turn. I didn't mind; I could tell it had a few more hours before the turning meat taste would be overpowering. (I've been told I have an Iron Gut. Never sick on bad food, ever.)

She, however, tasted that initial turn and spat it out. I ate a few more before she tossed the package. We headed out to get some grub elsewhere instead.

On the way, she was remarking on my ability to eat tainted meat. Just before taking a sip of soda, she said, "You're probably going to get trichinosis."

"Oh, no," I said without missing a beat, "trichinosis tastes totally different."

That soda got spat on the beauty bark, but almost. . . .
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
I just want to get this out there, for the record. If enough are aware of it coming, it might stop it from being the "thing" of the moment.

When Donald Trump loses next, be that (unlikely) as the GOP nominee or as (?) President, the headline somewhere will read:

No, You're Fired!


You likely heard it here first (or not). It's pretty obvious.
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
Anyone else think that the word hirsute might just be a bad spelling for "hairsuit"?
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
As great as Basil and Rosemary were together, things got even spicier when they met a couple of hot tomatoes with a nice Chianti. They all got stewed, and in thyme, things got…saucy.
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
"Okay," said the lead singer, "I think we need a name that simultaneously plays with objects representing stability and support, and described with terms denoting whimsy and randomness!"

The band thought. "Wobbly Ladder?" suggested the drummer.

"No!" chimed in the rhythm guitar, "Crumbling Pillar!"

"Rubber Crutch?" said keyboards.

The bass player, not really even looking up, snarked, "It's gotta be Loose Stool."
peristaltor: (The Captain's Prop)
"Can we visit the sausage factory?" she asked. At that point, our road trip took a turn for the wurst.

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