I am lying in bed reading Kate Beaton, listening to Roy Harper and eating fancy chocolates with the baby. Earlier I was listening to Jordi Savall.

boat
pie
no
mine
hat
coco (cookie)
arm
ba (diaper)
apple
baby
bet (barette)
numnu (I love you)
hewwo
more (with sign)
ball
dawdawdaw (draw, pen, drawing)
pees (please)
kick

I thought maybe the neighbors were lying to us about their second graders having homework over the break, but the internet is full of parents complaining how their k-5 children are loaded down for Thanksgiving. Grow some appropriate reproductive organs, people, and tell the insane school to stuff their daily reading practice and math facts drills, or even better, accept the reality that public schools don't care about your children and pull 'em out.

Are there any good arguments against it? I can't think of any, other than the pure libertarian one.

The wishbone, or merrythought, is actually the avian bone known as the furcula, which is latin for "little fork" - it's what would be the clavicles fused together. The role the furcula plays is to provide some structural strength to an avian's thorax.

It doesn't attach to the sternum the way the collarbones do in a human being, but is joined to the body by the scapulae, in a similar fashion that our clavicles are attached to the scapulae at the acromioclavicular joint.

Chris Jerico says "I'm the best there is at what I do." I desperately want Wolverine to come popping out from backstage and shred him.

I was randomgly clicking on craigslist missed connection links, and I came across this, and it made me cry.

I want to recall my memories I have of myself and you in the same events, so that you can see if your the girl I have a special place in my heart for. Maybe you could put them together to remember who I am, and if you might be interested in saying something about it, I would like to hear. My dream would be to find out we have harmony.

me:I was a grocer atop a mansion on a hill: TJ's Geary and Masonic. I started there 1999, and worked there for only 4 years. I rode an Amtrak bus/train eastbound from San Francisco to Emeryville, Berkely, Richmond Martinez, Farfield, Davis, Sacramento, bus transfer to Roseville, Rocklin, Auburn(my stop) on the Capitol Train Thanksgiving morning 1999. I was walking down 16th Mission and Valencia November 1st 2006. How else could you know much more about me, if you do, I'm humbled by your interest.

you: I loved you ever since I first saw you, it was love at first sight for me, I was a checker at a grocery store when I first saw you. This was all the way back on some late-summer/fall day in 1999. I was the last register and new as a checker, that day I was stressing out over my customers, I finished with my customer before you(I hadn't noticed you because I was trying not to look ahead at my line), I took a moment for myself, then looked up to greet, the first thing I realized was that I was staring right into your eyes, you asked me if I was alright, I could barely reply because I was stunned by you. When I was done helping you, and you left the store, everyone in line was saying I should've got your number, my regret began there, it was funny, but I was afraid of rejection. You soon came back, and then again soon after that, I coincidently was a passenger of a train you were on Thanksgiving Day 1999, it seemed like you did notice me, but I was so shy I didn't say anything. And you might recall me sitting on the floor of the train because every seat was taken on it, perhaps you remember I glanced you smiling at my misfortune that day- me sitting on the floor as you were probably going to a nice cozy seat in the car ahead of mine(to be honest, though I sat on the floor of that train, it was one of the most pleasasnt train rides I've ever experienced because I shared that train with you). Over the years you shopped at the store, and the last time I saw you there was when I was working with a female co-worker, You seemed really interested, and I was talking to this girl like I was special or something(all the while convinced[decieving myself] you would come back to the store one day thinking I was good enough for you), you seemed way interested, but if you came back to the store, I wasn't there, I went back to Auburn, CA where God helped me to stop living in the shadows. When I visited SF, I thought I saw you riding a bike down 16th w/ a guitar November 1st 2006. I also thought I saw you one other time on the 30 Stockton New Years Eve 2008, the bus went by quickly and I wasn't for sure. God has been gracious to me in giving me all these chances-I'm not sure why?

I moved back to SF last year then quit my job there, and moved somewhere: ) but I always want to be back in SF. I decided I don't care if people recognize me here, I don't know if I'm extremely insignificant to you, but I always remember those people in line saying to me that I should've got your number, I've never picked a girl up in my line even until now. These events compel me, to gain courage, and I dreamt of the day I could say 'you were so cool that day you comforted me, how could such an amazing girl be like that to me, I've loved you for the person you are, and I love you for all that I've experienced of you.' I'm a Christian, I don't know your faith, but I know I've talked to God about you, and have prayed for your well being, I know it's been ten years, but in this story I think of Jacob waiting for Rachel, his love bridged time. If I never see or hear from you, I wish that your life is peaceful and beautiful forever. My heart needs to say this.

I hope your Thanksgiving is full of love and peace.

There are constantly articles about the end of helicopter parenting, but helicopter parenting is never gonna end, you know why? There is no way to express disapproval of people's standards, let alone enforce any standards on anybody. It's socially acceptable to refuse to let your children play alone outside because you're afraid of abduction, and even more importantly it's socially acceptable to talk about those fears; it's not socially acceptable to refuse to let your children play alone outside because your neighbors are trashy.

Given the demographics of the US, is it mathematically possible for every institution and group in the country - the service academies, the universities, the FBI, symphony orchestras, the Coast Guard, clubs of people who like to write Twilight crossover fanfic, the park service, amateur musical theater, people getting degrees in library science - to have proportionate racial representation? Obviously some membership can overlap or be sequential - you can be in the FBI and write Bella/Hermione, or be a park ranger and build sets for Guys and Dolls on the weekends, and you can be in a service academy and later be in the FBI and later play the tympani fulltime - but it seems like there might be cases where this is impossible. Let's just take institutions of higher education. You can't be at a service academy and also an undergraduate at an Ivy League university and also one at the University of California and also one at the University of Illinois and also one at Cal Tech. Black people are about 12% of the population. Are there enough black people of college age to make up 12% of each of those institutions?

To figure out the answer, I need a magic number - the number of black Americans between 18 and let's say 25 to be fair, since lots of people go to university late. For the purpose of this exercise we will not consider merit.

There's so much, but one bit of dishonesty that has particularly bothered me since the murder of George Tiller is the nonsense invocation of European abortion law. It's nonsense because no European abortion law resembles American law in any way whatsoever. European countries regulate abortion in precisely the same ways that Tiller claimed would lead to the elimination of education for women along with other Taliban-style atrocities. Only the USA has a boner for the idea that reproductive rights are a binary - everybody's got to have the right to kill that baby right up to the end of the second stage of labor, or it's BURKAS FOR US ALL.

You can argue that anti-abortion activists are dishonest too. They often are. Tu quoque is not a great argument.

Heart of Darkness.

Bartleby the Scrivener.

A Diogenes "forgery."

tiny, tiny books.

The Owl and the Pussycat - oh no! sold out!

And finally, this is only seven dollars! A tiny Pangur Ban.


Me, I'm still waiting on that 25th anniversary edition of Little, Big that was supposed to come out TWO YEARS AGO now. If I ever get a refund I'm donating the three hundred bucks to Sarah Palin just to spite you, John Crowley.

Dumb Mormons interfere with the only Mexicans in America who want to go back to Mexico.

This story is terrible and sad and not funny at all, except it is if you've had any experience with Catholic Charities, whose very obvious and incompetent involvement is never acknowledged by the reporter but crystal clear if you know what to look for.

The mean, evil woman who managed our mobile home park for the last 20 or so years passed away on Fri.
All I feel is relief. Even if they promote one of the staff members she's been working with, none of them are as mean as she was.

Dear locals,

Everyone else in America has to do something about their strong regional accents if they want to be taken seriously. Just because yours isn't easily identifiable as one, and instead just sounds like you're stupid, doesn't mean you are exempt. Articulate those auxiliary verbs! Final consonants are not optional! Please remember, "slack-jawed yokel" is not an aspirational phrase. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

My poor little guy has cracked and bleeding fingertips. I'm putting shea butter on them because I have some but the doctor said to use Eucerin. Is it actually better or did she just get a lot of Eucerin schwag?

I got REALLY UPSET about minority language preservation last night. I was so sad thinking of all those little Welsh and Catalan children cut off from participation in the broader world. This is better than my usual emotional crisis displacements, like the supervolcano, jihad, and race war.

One

child grunts

me: Every time you grunt, I am making you do something for me. Here, take this plate downstairs and put it in the dishwasher.

child: I AM WORKING! I AM WORKING ON MY WORK!

me: Oh yeah?

child: I HAVE HARD WORK TO DO! I HAVE TO DO ALL MY THINKING NOW, SO I DON'T HAVE TO THINK WHEN I AM A BIG MAN!

Two

husband: Your coffee and bread are on the stairs.

me: Ooh, it smells like European coffee. It smells like Europe down here! But with less pee.

Poll #1489673
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 22

Why do you love me?

eta: should read "worth the bother," obviously