Dear Mr. Leopard...

Dear Mr. Leopard,

Would you mind awfully if I made you into a coat? It's just that your fur is ridiculously beautiful. Even up close it looks almost hand-painted. Are you really just a mountain lion with a talented hairdresser?

If you don't want to be made into a coat, I guess I could settle for keeping you as a pet, but you'd have to consent to wearing a sparkly collar and being patted a lot.

Let me know.

Love,
Soda & Candy

I like words and stuff.

two of my favorite words of the moment:

ineptitude
which I was very excited about as I thought I had invented it to mean the ability to be crap at everything, but in fact it turns out is already a word meaning the quality of being inept. I like it though as it is still the antithesis (ooh another good word!) of aptitude.

troglodyte
it means cave-dweller, and makes a good insult when you don't want to curse and would like to appear pompous.

And in another Survivor-related post...

What would CBS do if there was some kind of natural disaster or freak accident in which all of the Survivors were killed?

"Tonight on Survivor: Some Random Island We Hope You've Forgotten We've Already Been To: A freak tidal wave washes away the camp, and all the Survivors are washed out to sea. Ironically, there are no survivors."

I suppose Jeff would just keep the million.

Make sense? Wanna know what you're playing for?

Survivor is about to be back on for its 27th season. I'm pretty sure Jeff Probst can just go ahead & print his own money now. In fact I imagine his last salary negotiation went something like this:

[SCENE: Interior, CBS boardroom.
Executives sit around a table the size of a swimming pool. JEFF PROBST enters. He is wearing chunky gold rings on each finger, heavy chains about his neck and a floor-length fur coat.]

JEFF PROBST: Fifty virgins by tomorrow, or I walk.

CONCERNED EXECUTIVE: But Jeff...

JEFF PROBST: Ah-bah-bah! [peremptorily waves beringed hand] Fifty.


[FIN]

Fun Size: Trivial Matters.

Why are casino & movie theatre carpets always retina-searingly ugly?

The maxi-dress is the perfect hit-on deterrent. Not even the desperate, toothless hoboes in my neighborhood want to hit on an apparently pregnant chick.

Why do different shoes make your feet smell different? It's the same sweat, right?

Furthermore, why are my most expensive shoes the worst offenders in the odor department?

I feel like a bit of a wanker, writing all these poems.

I have been like sand
Letting everything wash over me
Pass through me
Washing me away grain by grain

Now I picture myself as the rich black earth
The sun gives me heat
The rain nourishes me
And good things will grow.

Over to You: So Over The Moon.

A three part question for you:

1. If you were offered the chance to live in a colony on the moon*, would you do it?

2. If you answered yes, why? If you answered no, why not?

3. What would change your answer to Question 1?


Here are my answers:

1. Hell yes!

2. Duh, it's the freaking moon. But to give a fuller answer, I think it would be awesome to be part of something that unusual and historic (in a context where the moon was the first place humans lived other than Earth). And it would be cool to look out of my window at Earth.

3. I would not go if we had to all wear the same outfit all the time.


*Under a dome or something, I'm not a scientist.