“Always strive to excel, but only on weekends.”
~ Richard Rorty
Work is exceptionally slow, minions, and it has been for some time now. Which is odd. Normally Spring and Summer are the down times when most of the university’s population slinks back off from whence they came, but this year it’s been almost uniformly dull. University crime is on the decline, ducklings.
It makes it a bit hard to be at work, actually, now that I’ve got my boyfriend back in town, but we all must make sacrifices. We’re making up for it with a ton of dates. Last night I threw on a really hot dress and dragged him to a production of Loves Labour’s Lost, and like most things I drag him to he ended up liking it a lot. It got out too late to go to dinner, but he plans on taking care of his craving for American flavors (and portion sizes) this weekend.
That’s what we’ll be doing, how about you? As always, here’s some fun things I found for you to enjoy:
Where would the internet be without pictures of funny cats, I ask you?
There lurks in everyone a morbid sense of humor. It may be tiny, it may be repressed, but it’s there. Here’s a small indulgence for it.
Some people seem to do a great deal of deep thinking a la salle des bains, here are some of those gems. And some less than stellar contributions as well. #13 is my favorite.
French women. A certain, je ne sais quoi. (Random French phrases today, my loves, you’d never believe I used to be quite a proficient French speaker by how much vocabulaire I’ve lost. Quelle horreur!)
Pintrest. Oh, Pintrest. I’ve written of my grudging love for you before, as well as some of your less than glorious offerings. Some kind, caring soul has taken the time to compile the strangest things people find on you. The public is grateful.
Mad Men is back this Sunday! I love that show and it’s been gone for too long. Here’s some fun: Don Draper and his many disapproving faces. Also, Mad Men re-imagined as Little Ms. and Mr. Men. Childhood = ruined.
Last week’s sheep pic was a hit. Here’s another one for your viewing pleasure.
If we all pool our money, sell some organs, and go into smuggling, in about a century (give or take a cartel operation or two) we may be able to afford this. You make the call: very nifty or horridly vulgar? I lean towards the latter, but you darlings have been known to surprise me with your opinions, so I leave the final judgement up to you.