Plus, kids in bow ties. Always delightful.

Went to watch my niece's music festival class at lunch and I forgot how zen it is to listen to 45 seconds of hesitant piano and then sit in silence for a few minutes.

More snow in the forecast? Sure. Why not. Steal my last morsel of joy, why don't you. No, no, it's fine. Hell, why not make it 8 months of winter. Why not release The Thing to kill us all.

Could be Prada. We just don't know.

I don't think the devil wears Prada, tbh. I think he probably wears a tunic made of ears and hair, tucked into some cargo shorts.

Honestly it's like the CEOs aren't even trying.

Apple Watch filled with chives.

Think of how the posts would improve if everyone were carrying around a warm baked potato. Of course pockets will have to get bigger. Or we'll start wearing our potato phones as necklaces. The strap? A tube filled with sour cream. Duh.

Regular iPhone, only it's got a baked potato warmer on the back.

Finding it very hard not to say, well, I'm talking about a pet this week, but hey, I've lost lots of people too, so you can sanction my grief because I've got the grief seal of approval from our generally unfeeling society. We are still so bad at this.

But of course the weird stuff on display is the processing of the grief and grief is kinda funny to look at and I think we would be better off if we learned to be curious about it (or even taken with it) like we are music or movies.

Each new grief asks you to build another monument to a unique relationship while excavating all the old ones and sometimes people come to your grief art gallery/dig site to say that what you have on display is weird and they don't get it.

Between that and my last rewatch of HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY, Donald Crisp is currently in the lead for Movie Dad Most Likely to Have Me Sobbing Into a Blanket.

I'm still recovering from watching LASSIE COME HOME at the beginning of the year.

Donald Crisp, a boy, and a loyal dog? Oh yeah, I'm cryin'.

Anyway, fun movies.

Judi Dench is here to do one great scene that anchors the whole thing and then it's back to the murderous thigh banshee. This is culture.

Was rewatching GOLDENEYE last night and sometimes it dawns on you anew what a tonal absurdity a Bond film is. What am I watching? WHAT IS THIS. Is this a pervy Italian sex comedy with thriller ambitions, or a cartoonish B serial with sex scenes written by someone who calls them "bewbs"?

My dental hygienist and I were talking today about the sharp rise she's (anecdotally) seen in grinding/clenching over the last five or so years. Maybe that would be a telling metric to track, how many of us are cribbing like horses on a fencepost, alongside the economic numbers.

I have about $35 in library fines that I haven't paid for so long (and couldn't pay online), so I've decided to simply never show my face in that library again. Very relaxed person. Some say too relaxed.

The mere suggestion of the tiniest possible rebellion is my drug of choice. Behold my carefree spirit with awe.

This 4/20, I'd like to pay tribute to the semi-inhaled puff of weed I had in university that allowed me—I think psychosomatically—to have the best nap of my life.

A young moose stands in the woods and looks toward the camera.

Still in the neighbourhood. We watch each other through the kitchen window.

We won't rest until everyone under the age of 20 is talking like Phil Harris.

An online advert reading “you wouldn’t ignore a warning light on your car. Don’t ignore you body.”

Oh I absolutely would

Maybe there can be a fluoridation-like system.

I reek of desperation and they can smell it from a mile away.

Funding a study to find the most effective way to get the Zoomers into Jack Benny.

me showing up to an event with a bluray of an old movie and discovering it's more of a hangout vibe