Rumblings and Ramblings

Do you think Sven googles himself? If so, he's probably found this blog. My guess is he was bored by it. He's a trendy metrosexual with a sense of style; he probably isn't interested in the half-mad half-bored ravings of a bunch of cheapskates. And if I had written "Do you think Sven googles himself?" a decade ago, what would you have thought I meant?

The Sven blog is temporarily down. That's obviously not a good thing. We already only have so much material to write about to try incorporate our blog's namesake; what can we do if they take away such a vital source?

We're late to the party, but we absolutely have to recommend Da Ali G Show. Sometimes I think I'm done laughing out loud uncontrollably--and then something like this comes along.

Our cat, Sue Ellen Mischke, she of the recently scraped ovaries, is a bitch. When we want to leave the house, we have to get a toy, throw it across the room, then sneak out quickly as she runs after it. I actually think her consciousness is fighting her instincts. Here's my stream-of-consciousness guess at her thoughts: "They're leaving, gotta get away, gotta get away, gotta get outside, they're leaving, what the hell is that? bright colors, gotta get outside, fight it, gotta sneak out the door, they're going to open the door, they're THERE IT GOES! CHASE! CHASE! CHASE! GET IT! Wait...no..no...NO! They're gone!"

Cross-promotional alert: if you want to hear my thoughts on Mission Impossible III, you can read them at Costanza Book Club. It's got new bright colors.