I know a fellow named Tomatoes, and it was his birthday yesterday. I don’t know if Tomatoes is his real name; I don’t know a lot about Tomatoes, actually. One of the few things I know about Tomatoes is that when he was a kid, he played soccer across the street from a bunch of hippo goddesses that protected a mummified baboon. Also, I know that he’s not in this cartoon:
Anyway, happy birthday, Tomatoes!
Last week, I was doing a Google image search of “lost pet notices” when I discovered something strange. The most common search results for “lost pet notices,” aside from Fancy Notions posts, were notices left on or around Bloor Street in Toronto, Ontario. Lost cat at Bloor and Dufferin. Lost dog at Bloor and Dovercourt. Lost thing at Bloor Street West. Lost Found cat named Sausage-Monkey wearing a suit jacket at Bloor Street West. Strange. What, exactly, was it about Bloor Street and missing pets?
Thankfully, I asked a couple I know who is currently living in Toronto about this curious phenomenon. Here’s the response:
“An excellent conundrum. Bloor Street runs through the “fancy poodle” district of Yorkville, so it may be that dognappers are rife. There are no major parks nearby, so coyote attacks are unlikely. Another possibility is that they’re just whiney up there.”
Interesting.
Of course, just now I did a Google image search for “lost pet flyers” rather than “lost pet notices,” and Bloor Street no longer had the corner on the market. It seems that Americans say “lost pet flyers” and only Canadians say “lost pet notices.” Canadians and Fancy Notioners.
UPDATE 2/26/10: I’m still thinking about this. Bloor Street can’t be the only fancy whiney poodle street with rife dognappers in Canada. Shouldn’t there be Google image results for lost pet notices in the fancy poodle district of Vancouver and Edmonton and Calgary? Case reopened.
If I grew up in a place where they had to tell me not to poop outside unless I wanted to get worms, I guess I would be okay with it if it were a frog puppet named Ro-Revus telling me not to poop outside. I guess.
It seems that every time I go by this pet store in Highland Park (I’m assuming it is a pet store; on the sign it says “Rodents” and “Poultry”), I take a picture of this goldfish.
Also this bunny.
I don’t, however, always take a picture of the chicken.
I wonder why that is.
I went to see Buck Silva‘s art show at the Mor York gallery yesterday, and now I have a problem: I think that I could just fit Latitude: 42° 21′ 30″ N, Longitude: 71° 03′ 37″ W in the living room if I found some other way to get into the kitchen, but if I did that, where would I put Unsolicited Advice?
Maybe that goes into the kitchen.
About ten seconds after I woke up this morning, I heard Benny yell really loudly. He’s working on a birthday present for good friend Chuckles Klown, and he has been giving himself electric shocks all week doing it. Apparently this morning’s was the best so far. Since I was still in the bedroom, I didn’t see if he lit up and got all jaggedy, but from the yell it sounded like he did. I sure hope Chuckles enjoys the present.
I have to give tomorrow’s word of the day a little head start tonight so that everybody has a chance to pick some up for breakfast.
Grief bacon. Actually, it’s not anything you eat. It’s the fat you get on your own body after you’ve been trying to get through a sad or stressful time by eating a lot. Kummerspeck is sad people.
I’m finding it hard to believe that I’ve been posting on etiquette for nearly two years now and have not yet shared the anecdote about Andy Warhol at a fancy dinner party.
The story goes that when Warhol was starting to be recognized as a “serious” artist, he was suddenly invited to a lot of formal dinners. Not knowing which fork to use when the turtle was served, and not wanting to admit his lack of knowledge, he would simply refuse to take part in any of the meal, politely demurring, “Oh, I only eat candy.” Andy Warhol was a genius. Also a liar, of course.
Anyway.
ETIQUETTE: When eating candy from a box or tray where the candies are individually wrapped in those crinkly papers, you should take the candy from the box or tray in its wrapping; don’t leave the crinkly paper behind. Eat the candy and dispose of the paper. To tell you the truth, though, I don’t think I’ve ever found a good explanation of where you are supposed to put the paper; you’re just supposed to “properly dispose of the paper” and not leave it in the box or on the tray. Perhaps you should just eat the paper along with the candy. That’s probably what Andy Warhol would do.
SUPERSTITION: If an expectant mother wants a baby girl, she should eat plenty of candy while she’s pregnant. A single woman who eats the last piece of candy from the tray will be an old maid forever.
Benny and I are going to the Salton Sea for a few days. If you can’t come with us, you can always take the Salvation Mountain virtual tour. See you in a bit.
I found a story today on neatorama about people in South Korea finding a way to use their iPhone touch screens while still wearing gloves, but isn’t it more fun to go to the source of the story and do a transliteration instead?
‘…Liu also touch maekseubong sausages, such as a known fact that iPhone users said they ‘do not want to take off the gloves in the winter cold, the only bee Max’ or yiramyeo experiences and use them to the Internet while sales soared Max rods.
Max Peak 9 days CJ Corporation’s main selling convenience store sales result of Sir Roy, had a special little despite two months from December to January last year, 11 billion revenue last year increased by 39% over the same period was .
CJ Corporation maekseubong gimminseop manager of brand managers, “maekseubong tagitcheung and this just fits the iPhone user base, while the poisonous celebrity, Max is on the stick,” said, “iPhone users to target promotions, including one maekseubong maekseubong this opportunity to inform a variety of brands as of how to plan, “he said.’
|
