I'll tell you a secret

I collect books. Not first editions or fancy ones, no. I collect books the way some people take in cats, rescuing them from bargain bins and library sales. I don't need any more, and the ones I already have are crowding me out. But I can't resist. I'm a sucker for a catchy title, is what it is. I like to put them up on the shelf and read the spines and wonder what's inside. They're like Christmas presents before they're unwrapped: promising and pleasant, mysterious and satisfying in their possibilities.

 

Often, though, the title is the best part. When curiosity finally gets the better of me I take one down to read, always with a sense of unease, even dread. What if there's only an ugly sweater inside? What if ALL those books on all those shelves are just endless disappointments? So many. I couldn't survive them all. Lately, I've taken to rereading old favorites rather than take the chance. This is a new thing for me. I'm not sure what it means, but I suspect it isn't good.

No nuke for you.

Man. Oh man Oh man Oh man.

I did like the Top Ten thing they did for spin control. But the toothpaste is definitely out of the tube here.

*Cartoon from Cagle.

Dissident Episcopalians

I don't really know what-all they're up to. I just couldn't pass up the title.

Looks like an attempt to circle the wagons around their bigotry and keep all the heathens at bay. Hey, at least they didn't leave the church. What a loss that woulda been, eh?

Brain food

From AOL News: "EVANSVILLE, Ind. (Jan. 15) - Fear of mad cow disease hasn't kept Cecelia Coan from eating her beloved deep-fried cow brain sandwiches ... 'This is better than snail, better than sushi, better than a lot of different delicacies,'" she says. "'You're going to die anyway. Either die happy or you die miserable.'"

Hey, Cecelia, go for it. What's a few more holes in your head.

Have you seen the footage of infected cattle, Cece? That is not - repeat NOT - a happy death. On the other hand, if eating diseased brains gives you that much pleasure, knock yourself out. Your call.

(These journals need way more choices for Mood. Grossed Out, Nauseated, Repulsed, and Oh-Sweet-Mother-of-Pearl spring to mind.)

Speaking of marketing…

 

How about those black-and-white-only M&Ms? I don’t want to eat those. And for me to say that is something, since I consider M&Ms to be a basic food group.

 

I hear whoever finds a bag of colored M&Ms wins a VW Bug. I don’t want that either. Which is good, since the odds of winning are about one in 18 million. 

 

All I have to say is, there better be some pink and yellow ones by Easter, or I’m really gonna be pissed.

101 uses for Tampax

I just saw the damndest commercial.

 

Picture it: Romantic couple in a rowboat. Idyllic scenery. Perfect, lazy afternoon -- until the boat springs a leak. While Boatdude panics, the chick whips out a big honkin’ box of Tampax, which she has apparently been lugging around like a purse. She peels a tampon and stuffs it into the hole. Boatdude is impressed. Hands are clasped. Woo is pitched. 

 

OK, here's what's wrong with this picture:

A. Every woman I know would rather go down with the ship than do this.
B. Every man I know would rather drown than see a woman do this.
C. Anyone who has ever used a Tampax knows these people are doomed.

Jeeze Louise. Imagine the damage these marketing guys could do with douche.

Live jazzed or die

Ephedra products sell fast ahead of ban: "People have been buying it like crazy," co-owner Christopher Pappas said. "They know it's going to be taken off the shelf so they're stocking up."

Well, another year, another opportunity to become a criminal by doing something to your own body, of your own free will, that the government doesn't like. Granted, this stuff actually is bad for you. I once tried a weight-loss product containing ephedra and my heart racketed around in my chest for hours. So I tossed it out. Period. My choice.

Understand, I am not a big fan of "supplements." Without FDA quality standards and sound research, there's no telling what a given potion actually does, or even whether it contains what the label says is in there. But if I know that and want to take it anyway, shouldn't that be my right? Slap a warning label on it and get out of my face.

And while we're at it, let's see some stats on how many people die each year of reactions to prescription and mainstream over-the-counter medication. I bet THAT would give you a heart attack.