Preferably where the streets do have names

No, Bono, I would not like to live where the streets have no name.  That sounds like a really bad idea.  I can't even imagine how much gas and time I'd waste, trying to find places.  Or, how would I describe how to get to my house, or go anywhere?  I know you were trying to be deep and esoteric, and hide from the world, or whatever.
But really, just.......no.

Oh so true. I think we all know people like this.

"A victim act is a form of passive aggression.

It seeks to achieve gratification not by honest hard work or a contribution made out of one's experience, or insight, or love, but by manipulation of others by the silent (and not-so silent) threat.

The victim compels others to come to his rescue or to believe as he wishes by holding them hostage to the prospect of his own further illness/meltdown/mental dissolution, or simply by threatening to make their lives so miserable that they'll do what he wants.

Casting yourself as the victim is the antithesis of doing your work.

Don't do it.

If you're doing it, stop."

You are so right, Pressfield.

The War of Art

I highly recommend reading The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield.

If you've ever had an inner demon related to expressing your art, music, creativity, or whatever.  Drop everything and read this book.

Whatever your gift is, it should come out while you're here and alive.

Thank you to my dear friend Stacy McQueen, for telling me about this book!

Star is weird

The baby is downstairs with my husband, and I haven't changed the channel from Sprout's Goodnight Show. Here is what I'd like to know:
Why does Star sing the "Brusha Brusha Brusha" toothbrushing song? He doesn't have teeth.  What the hell does he think he's brushing

Why does Star have a goodnight show? Stars COME UP at night. He should be going to bed at the asscrack of dawn when the SUN is coming up.

He is the creepiest puppet ever. I could give you many, many reasons why, but I'll start with the fact that he has fingers - and also wires that waterfall out of his head.
And no eyelashes.
Jay said that his eyeballs look like testicles.

 They revamped Star at some point. At least now his bottom jaw moves when he talks, instead of his upper jaw (Yuck.  Weird). And he got eyelids. Before, he just looked like he was in shock.  He still looks like a squatting triangle with arm flaps, and not a star.  
He still looks like he's gone septic.

I would file a restraining order against that puppet, if'n it turned up on my doorstep.  NO LIE.

I really need to watch some adult programming tonight to cancel this crap out.

I may or may not have had enough coffee this morning, but I swear that Morrison's singing dog guitar plays Stairway to Heaven.

Woofer

The future is wide open.  And I am thankful for volume control.

Great googly moogly

Google, I fucking lobe your guts some days.  You have outdone yourself with the Moog today.
If I could marry a search engine, it would very likely be you.

I know this is only temporary, but today, it's a fully operational Moog.

Trader Joe's Haiku

Trader Joes haiku for the day:

damn you, trader joes
snack capital of the world
i cannot quit you

Brought to you today, by brie logs, Unexpected Cheddar cheese, Cookie Butter, and Kettle Corn Cookies.