Historical Recordizations
I saw an ad yesterday for these Healthy Choice meals, which are called Cafe Steamers. They look pretty good--you can get Creamy Dill Salmon, Grilled Whiskey Steak, Chicken Tuscany, all kinds of delicious food combinations. I must admit, though, that overall the product freaks me out, because where I come from you can only get a Cafe Steamer in a back alley, and if you want it to involve chicken, it costs you double.
Speaking of paying money for illicit acts, I've been thinking about my sex life lately, because I received a spam with a subject line of "Write new pages of your sexual history with Super Viagra." It had never occurred to me before I received this email that I should be writing pages of my sexual history. I didn't even know I should be writing anything about my sexual history, let alone pages. Do people do this sort of thing? Sometimes I feel like there's lots of important stuff that I'm supposed to be doing, only no one bothered to tell me about any of it. THANKS FOR NOTHING. I guess I should go ahead and start writing this sexual history thing. It's going to be hard to come up with "pages" worth of material, because I've always felt that the haiku form most accurately captures the essence of the sexual act, despite the fact that "erectile dysfunction" is too long to use in the first or the third lines. But, if pages it must be, pages it must be. I've already worked out the opening; it goes something like this: it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the moistest of times. That's rather elegant, don't you think?
Incidentally, apparently people don't just record sexual history--I received a spam with a subject line of "There is the personal history of a pencil." There is? What is it? I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that the personal history of a pencil is something like: Pencil is made, pencil is sharpened, pencil dies. I've never thought about the life of a pencil before. It's kind of sad, like when you drop a birthday cake on a baby that has Diabetes. I think you see what I'm saying.
So you might have noticed (yeah, right!) that I haven't been doing the FostTen in recent weeks. Frankly, with all of the awesome reality shows on the tube-o'-boobs these days (my current favorite is So You Think You Can Surrender Your Dignity On National Television As You Pathetically Grasp At 15 Minutes of Fame?--I think that Chico's going to win this season!), there's just not enough time to select the ten best songs that I've heard in a given week. So, as the FostTen triumphantly returns this week, it does so in a more limited fashion, one that renders the name 'FostTen' completely irrelevant. I don't know what to call it at this point. How about "The Top Whatever of Whatever"? No, that's just stupid. Maybe an acronym would suffice. What about 'PORN'? It could stand for "Picks of a Random Nature." Nah, the picks aren't really random. Well, I've tried two things and I'm already out of ideas. Shit. I don't know what to call it. If you have any good suggestions, send them in. In the meantime, here it is:
Song of the Week: Cloak/Dagger -- Set the Alarm
Album of the Week: Akimbo -- Navigating the Bronze
Movie of the Week: Superbad
Quote of the Week: "Everything passes away--suffering, pain, blood, hunger and pestilence. The sword will pass away too, but the stars will still remain when the shadows of our presence and our deeds have vanished from the earth. There is no man who does not know that. Why, then, will we not turn our eyes toward the stars? Why?" -- Mikhail Bulgakov
