Travelogue I
Before I get started, I want to give a little lurve . . .
First to longtime lurker Never That Easy, who awarded me her Perfect Post Award for October, 2006. Here it is:
. . . which I won for my Smart Bitches Day post, Boys Need Romance. Thanks, NTE! If this keeps up, I’ll have to start stacking awards on my sidebar.
Next, some furry love to Erin O’Brien, who aims to one-up my cameltoe extravaganzi with one of her own. Kinda. Sorta. Thanks, gorgeous.
One question: if the plural of clitoris is clitorides, and if a group of sharks is called a shiver, a group of roebucks a bevy, and a group of parrots a pandemonium, what should we call a group of penises? I vote for slither, which happens to be one name for a group of snakes. But I’m open to suggestion.
By the way, when I do my shopping today, I’ll be sure to buy an ejaculation of Krugys for all you Krugy-flaunting women willing to send someone like ME your home addresses. Suckers.
On to the travelogue.
Corn Dog is a sweetie
We got together recently in San Francisco with her strapping husband and had a YUM meal at The Slanted Door.
Apologies to my other Bay Area readers . . . next time, I promise. My time was sorely limited.
More on my SF adventures tomorrow, featuring
The Mitchell Brothers theater! (Eh, don’t get your hopes up. I walked past.)
Fine Italian cuisine!
Feats of strength and daring!
Sweaty shirts!
And more . . . tomorrow. I’m exhausted.
D.
My sperm finds a comfy home
Remember Krugy? Well, Renee put him to good use.
I have but one thing to say:
Aaaaaaah.
D.
Thirteen things I learned from Cosmo, part quatre
I’m in San Francisco today, sitting through lots of boring lectures about hospital administration or something. I don’t know. I guess I’ll know on Thursday. In any case, I’ve promised you a Cosmo Thirteen, and who am I to disappoint my readers? Here ya go, folks, thanks to the magic of pre-scheduled posting! But I won’t be commenting until late tomorrow evening. (That also means I won’t be able to give you any linky lurve. Sorry!)
The November 2006 issue of Cosmo decorates our supermarket shelves, and you know what that means: time for me to learn a few things about men, women, and the war between the sexes.
1. Paris Hilton has a new “fragrance” — Heiress — and it doesn’t smell like the hindquarters of a cat in heat!
But, you know, I’m just assuming here. They don’t call this stuff eau de toilette for nothin’.
Elsewhere on the odor front: not to be outdone by La Hilton, Britney Spears has her own fragrance — Curious. As in, What’s that smell, dear? Well . . . isn’t that curious.
2. This woman is clueless:
“I had plans to meet up with a guy I had just started seeing and went to a bar with girlfriends beforehand. We shared a seared tuna appetizer and drinks. Later, I headed to the guy’s house. I was a little tipsy, and as soon as he opened the door, I jumped his bones. I wasn’t planning on spending the night because we weren’t sleeping together yet, but we were both so exhausted, we just cuddled and fell asleep. A few hours later, I woke up feeling sick and couldn’t make it to the bathroom, so I vomited in his hamper. When I tried to crawl back in bed, he made an excuse about having to work early and offered to drive me home. I never heard from him again.”
This gal thinks her crime was throwing up in the hamper. My take is, this guy got the willies because he thinks she has a drinking problem. She concludes:
“The next day, my friends said they’d all been sick too. I guess it was the tuna.”
You go on telling yourself that, darling.
Eleven more below the cut!
Interview: Tamara Siler Jones (part 2)
So you’ve ordered Valley of the Soul and you don’t know what to do until it arrives? Keep reading.
Interview: Tamara Siler Jones (part 1)
Don’t forget the contest to win a signed copy of Valley.
Halloween brings us the release of Tamara Siler Jones‘ third forensic fantasy, Valley of the Soul (available from Amazon, or — buy blue! — Barnes and Noble). For those of you unfamiliar with the series, Tam’s stories focus on Dubric Byerly, the Castellan (think Chief of Police) of Faldorrah. Dubric’s task is to keep the people safe. For Dubric, failure carries a special sting: he’s haunted by the ghosts of murder victims whose killers have not been brought to justice.
In the first novel, Ghosts in the Snow (reviewed here), Dubric and his staff face a killer of young women. In Jones’ second novel, Threads of Malice (reviewed here), sexual abuse and murder pose an even more twisted threat to the Castellan’s team.This time around, ritualistically slaughtered animals begin appearing in Faldorrah. Prank or something far more ominous? I’ll give you one guess.
As I’ve mentioned before, one of the neat things about Jones’ novels is that each is self-contained. You needn’t read them in sequence (and I didn’t).
On to the interview!
A crucible indeed
We can be reasonably confident that this high schooler didn’t download her essay from the Internet.
I have reprinted it verbatim.
“the crucible”
umm the character ima use in this Essay is John Proctor because ahh he was like the main dude in the story yeah. John proctor has three children & ahh I think proctor has made the right choice.
That’s it. That’s the whole essay. I wonder what grade my sister gave?
Oh, well. I’ve often thought “The Crucible” sucked; undoubtedly, that’s why this student has authored such an anemic essay. “Macbeth” might have inspired her to loftier heights.
Don’t forget the Valley contest (see below)!
D.
Contest: win a signed copy of Valley of the Soul
Halloween will soon be here*, and with it the release of Tamara Siler Jones’ third forensic fantasy, Valley of the Soul. I’ll be interviewing Tam tomorrow and Wednesday, so stay tuned.
But you’re wondering how you can win a signed copy, right? Here are the rules:
1. Between now and Friday, post a true-life scary story on your blog. Doesn’t have to be supernatural, and I guess it doesn’t even have to be true (like I’m going to check your facts?) But, damn it, try to creep us out.
2. To qualify, you’ll need to link back to this contest post and link to Valley‘s page either at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.
3. I will post a link back to your site at the bottom of this post, and (of course) I will be hyping this contest all week.
4. In the comments, let me know when your post is up.
5. I’ll choose a winner by drawing and announce the name this Saturday.
Tam has a contest of her own, too!
D.
*OMG. Check out Lyn Cash’s kitty litter cake. Oy.
Doctor in the House?
USA is having a House marathon today; Karen has been watching (“because there’s nothing else on but crap”) and I’ve been listening in.
Not long ago, my sister suggested I do a Thirteen on “why I hate medical drama shows.” This is not entirely true, by the way. I have fond memories of St. Elsewhere, particularly since the writers nailed the dynamics between residents and attendings. Plus — Alfre Woodard, Denzel Washington, Ed Begley Jr.? That show had one hell of a cast.
But, yeah, I’ve had it in for medical shows ever since ER opened with the following gem. This guy is crashing in the ER. Trauma to the neck, perhaps — in any case, the ER resident is having trouble securing the airway.
What does he say?
“Wake up ENT!”
Well, eff that actor and eff the writers. Our ER residents worked shifts. On call, we never slept. I never watched another episode (and I only watched the first minute of that one).
Back to House. I like Hugh Laurie, but I like him like this:
or this:
That’s A Bit of Fry and Laurie and Blackadder, respectively. But like so many fine comedians (Steve Martin comes to mind), I guess Laurie got tired of doing his fine comic shtick and took to more serious pursuits. It’s a shame.
Laurie’s House is monotone, monochromatic. His dynamic range extends from nasty to snide and his wit is about what you would expect from a team of writers with modest talent. I would forgive all of that if the team dynamics felt right, or if they got the medicine correct, but (based on the fifteen-second snips I’ve picked up here and there while editing my romance) these writers do neither.
Yeah, yeah, I’m not being fair, you say. I ought to sit through an episode or two. But it pains me, it really does. House’s brilliant deductive skills are the stock and trade of any internist worth his or her salt. At any tertiary care center, the docs are faced with comparable mysteries on a daily basis. (Well, maybe not wives poisoning their husbands with gold-containing arthritis meds from Mexico, but close enough.) But we the viewers are supposed to think this guy is the love child of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.
I guess what really bugs me is the heavy-handed use of drama in a medical setting. Illness and cure are intrinsically dramatic provided the writer takes care to characterize all the players. Case in point, Alan Rickman’s Something the Lord Made, which I have hyped before (please, please rent this movie). Those writers didn’t need murderous wives, bubonic plague, or herpes encephalitis to capture their viewers’ interest.
Of course, those writers had Alan Rickman and Mos Def on hand to bring their characters to life. As much as I like the (comic) Hugh Laurie, he’s no Alan Rickman.
D.
Remember, live blogging tonight
I’m shooting for 7 PM PST, but that depends on a lot of stuff (like when I manage to feed my family). See ya there.
UPDATE: make that 8. Sorry!
UPDATE: Y’all have lives tonight, I see 😉 Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.
D.