Will Ferrell's Speech to Harvard Class of 2003

one word. so little time.

Feeling brilliant and poetic? Try one word.

(ripped from grump's grip.)

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Interactive Plush Toys found by el fid.

The website says, "they will return your kindness with songs and shameless flattery."

I try to ignore the similarities to myself inherent in that statement.

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Sweet Belly Dancer

I'll tell you why I think Belly Dancing is the coolest form of dance: chubby girls are hot.
This is a cruel and commercialized world (and I will never convince men of this) where we girls are often made to feel uncomfortable for being, well, feminine.
Enter Belly Dancing. It's a dance created for girls. (sorry, Zorba.) And it's not for skinny girls either, it's for the delicious over the top, pleasantly plump squeezables, real-live, they-do-exist women.
I am actually a little too skinny to be a great belly dancer right now. I don't have quite enough 'stuff' to shake-it-all-about the way I'm supposed to. But I take comfort in the fact that someday nature will take its toll on my body and when that happens, belly dancing will be there waiting. With open, loving arms.

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I've Got Balls

According to Rick, the energetic, 45 year old divorcé with whom I just had "coffee" (although neither of us drank coffee), I have balls.

"You've got balls," he says and then laughs. "I like that."
I need to think about this so I take a sip of my drink before answering.
"Balls, huh? I never would have guessed that."
"Are they big? They must be really tiny. I've never seen them."
He has his chair pulled up as close to mine as is humanly possible without stacking them. He roars again with laughter.
"Someday, you'll tell people that on our first date I told you you had balls."

I believe I just did.

(see comments for additional information on this "date.")

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Five Things To Do Before Bed

  1. remove shoes
  2. scratch head
  3. drink water
  4. yawn
  5. ponder and evaluate personal life goals

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Still my favorite photoblog

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South Africa

Because I suffer from incurable curiosity I must know who you are. Yes you, in the back there. Don't pretend you don't know who I'm talking to. You're the only one who regularly visits from South Africa. Johannesburg? Cape Town? Who are you, what is your quest, and what is your favorite color?

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Singing at a benefit dinner for the Arts. For the full experience listen to the audioblog below.

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My Funny Valentine

this is an audio post - click to play

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Bloomfield Font

Which is why I type stuff out.

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Guess What?

Chicken Butt.

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Queen of the Scavengers

I am currently top finder on scavenger. *smug smile*

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The Bubble and the Blonde

Also at the HalfCon. A mystical bubble formed on top of my drink keeping me entertained for hours. The other HalfBakers went home. I finally snapped out of my stupor when Rachel, our waitress, gently said, "Esmerelda, we need to close up now!"

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HalfBaker's Convention, Phoenix, AZ. We are happy, pretty people. Happy and pretty. Pretty happy. Eating Chinese/Mexican food. You can see Jerk Chicken fried rice and refried beans on the table in front of me. Unless of course you were blinded like I was by my eager, rapacious smile.

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I Kiss you !!!!!!!!!!!!

How could I not post this enthusiastic home page!!!!!!!!!!!!?

Thanks to Calum for the find.

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to me.

I had so much fun. Too much fun. I killed the fun-o-meter. Phoenix is great. Even hot (110F). The Halfbakers there are world class. Tara's Family rocks. Everyone has a pool. I love that place!

Tara and I had a convertible and three days to get ourselves into and out of as much trouble as we could.

It was a glorious magical time, filled with recycled cats (listen below), club dancing on stage, angry neighbors, wild, desert storms and detours through the nether regions of town. Who could ask for anything more?

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Sam the Cat


Picture of Noble Maloof

As I got on the bus this morning, I saw what I had been looking for all week: an open seat directly in front of Maloof. I plunked down next to walleye (the wobbly gent with the oblong head) and fiddled with my camera, pretending to clean the view screen and surreptitiously clicking photos. The first three were absolute crap. I knew this because I immediately reviewed them in the confines of my bag. Walleye kept sneaking glances at me and seemed like he was going to burst into heavily-accented conversation at anytime, but he refrained. I took one last shot over my shoulder at my ancient, wary target and hoped for the best.

It was a beaut.

I couldn't have asked for a better or more atmospheric shot.

And since I'm taking next week off and won't be here to offer you all the tidbits I think you so richly deserve, I'm giving you the next best thing: the beauty of Maloof!

It's my way of saying thank you to all of my readers.

You're the best!

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The elusive Noble Maloof.

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College President Steps Down

A happy chorus of "Ding, Dong the Witch is Dead" rang through the halls of a local college in Cleveland today as the news was announced that the long-time President had "stepped down" that morning during an emergency meeting with the board of trustees. Staff members speculate that he was forced out due to the lack of advance notice or a goodbye party with cheesy banners and bad store bought cake. Many have expressed curiosity about how his wife will take the news. The couple were living in a mansion on campus with luxurious amenities including a jacuzzi and a double underground garage. It is rumored that the former President's wife has a chicken and rooster figurine collection numbering in the hundreds. No comment yet on how the figurines will be packed or transported as the couple vacate the campus housing arrangements they acquired two months ago.

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Caption Contest!

Funniest caption wins... something! (I don't know what.) But seriously, unleash thy wittsome fury upon this photo (found at the Hand Knits for Young Moderns website).

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Need a pick-me-up? Child friendly. And way too cute. Puppy photos with the occassional horticulture shot. (Oh, and some kitties, too.)

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The Elusive Maloof and other stories

Noble Maloof has escaped my grasp thus far this week. I had plans to photograph the elderly gentleman as I board the bus we share to work. He's just not there. Except Tuesday. He was on the bus Tuesday. Of course that would be the morning I forget my camera. There he sat like a tiny, ancient flower waiting to be picked. His enormous bespectacled eyes and hairy ears tufting out from under his Kangol cap. I will own a picture of you, yet, you gorgeous creature!

Instead of Noble there was an assortment of other people. One of my favorites these days is an Eastern European man with wall-eyes that point off in funky direction from the front of his incredibly shaped head. His head looks like an upside down pyramid. Narrow at the bottom. Flat and wide at the top. Entirely flat. When the weather is cold he wears a scarf wrapped around his head which causes him to look a great deal like ET. He seems very nice, but he has very poor balance. Especially when the bus is moving. Which it usually is. He teeters and weaves and wobbles all over the aisles and then gets off.

Today, at the bus stop, there was a vaguely comforting sound coming from my umbrella: rain drops. You know the kind, not just little patter, but firm occasional splats. The kind of rain that drips off trees in the early morning onto your tent on a camping trip. Why does it always rain on camping trips? No matter where I camp - even my own back yard - I am awakened by soft persistent rain. Usually at 3 in the morning. I love it. I should go camping more often.

Just need a sleeping bag...

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self advertising

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looking out or looking in?

I sometimes liken the world wide web to a window which looks out on all the world. But at the same time it is also a window looking into a tiny box on my desk. I am both looking in and looking out.

It's all in how you look at it I suppose.

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Federico's Photographic Endeavors

Oh, Federico! I found you again! This photo of a bubble makes me so happy. I thought it was lost to me forever, but calloo callay it has returned! Frabjus day!

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Spot The Fake Smile

Tara found this one. Cool little experiment. You look at twenty people smiling and decide whether or not their their smile is genuine or fake. Harder than you think...

I scored 14 out of 20.

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Did I post this one already? I can't remember.

I enjoy going to this site sometimes and looking at what people write on walls. It makes me want to write on stuff. I should carry a camera into public restrooms. There is no one quite so opinionated as a Cleveland woman equipped with a sharpie who has to pee, apparently. I've never seen so many numbers, thoughts, comments, cross-examinations, insults, retorts, slights, digs, philosophies, words or random illegible scribbles as I have on the bathroom stalls of Cleveland, OH.

I have only written on one bathroom wall so far. I don't remember what I wrote.

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Tunisian Music?

Noble Maloof may have spawned a form of Tunisian music! This is very surprising considering he currently resides in Cleveland, but there's no telling the life he lived as a young man.

I wouldn't be surprised to hear he had started a Zimbabwe Accapella group in his younger days which toured the continent and won the hearts of many.

He's just that kind of man.

I will attempt a clandastine photo on the bus this week. Wish me luck.

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Are you ready to get pumped?

Learn a lot of cool stuff about real ninjas.

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Draw a Pig


Belly Dancer Dude

This will hurt you.
But it's for your own good.

It just goes to show you that we women can't have nice things without men getting jealous and trying to hog the spotlight. Please note the farmer's tan. And the ghastly white belly. Oh and the hairy armpits. Who could overlook the hairy armpits?

(Tara, we need to find this guy immediately and continue our education! Do you think he teaches?)

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Who are these people? They appear to own a liquor store and that apparently makes them very happy. Look at all that vodka! They must be from the old country.

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You're interested already, aren't you? I knew that would get your attention. This website is like Found Magazine under a magnifying glass. One family's photo album is laid bare for the whole world wide web to view and enjoy.

And they probably owned a liquor store!

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Bring Me A Shubbery

Or just tell me the average velocity of a swallow. The Estimated Airspeed Velocity of an Unladen Swallow, that is. African or European, I hear you say? That's all included in this troublingly in-depth study. Go ahead and plunge into the physics that follow. I am too soft in the head to look past the introductory paragraph, but I just KNOW my nerdier friends will come trumpeting back with the report that the math is skewed or the kinematic ratios are off.

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And All That Jazz

Saturday I decided to go to a bonfire some friends were having. I wanted to get out of the house and decided sitting in the sweltering humidity by a roaring fire seemed as good a way as any to quench my thirst for amusement.

I got a ride from one of the guys who hangs with the group. He likes being seen with me. He makes sure everyone sees us arrive. He likes to leave early so he can yell, "Bye, guys. I've got to take Sarah home!" And then he cranks up his barbershop quartet music as we pull away.

And then he plays it all the way home. I mean seriously. I am a patient girl who loves music, but even I don't want to listen to him sing the baritone part for every quartet song he owns. I shifted into autopilot after the third rendition of Funny Valentine. In the hour and half we spent in his truck coming and going I heard Boyz to Men, Manhatten Transfer, Nylons, The Freshman, with just a smidge of Blues Traveller thrown in at the end for good measure.

"Most girls get tired of this music and want me to turn it off, "he says smiling.
"Oh do they?" I say trying not to laugh.
"You're the only girl I know who can even tolerate Barbershop Quartet," he gushes.
You poor boy, I think to myself. "You must not be running in the right circles." But you are running in circles. "I'm sure there are girls who are into that sort of thing."

He makes a point of smiling at me for a significant period of time. Then bursts into "You'll Never Walk Alone."

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Post Your Secret

Here's a fascinating collective project called PostSecret. You can design your own postcard and send your secret to:

Post Secret
13345 Copper Ridge Road
Germantown, MD

Thanks to Worldgineer for the find.

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Sand Sculpture

What other people do in their spare time. Looks like fun.

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Dropping Pennies

A blog of note, brought to my attention by Mr. Gober. Thanks, G.

The Penny Dropped

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lost sock drawer

You might find a match for that lonely argyle you've been holding onto for a year. You know, the one that looks at you sadly as you close the sock drawer yet again.

Take a look at the lost sock collection. You can even add your own lost socks. Give them some company before you use them as dust rags or throw them in the garbage.

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Phrases I responded to today with the words "and how"

"It's awfully quiet down here today."
"Is it hot outside?"
"Did you water the plants?"
"Will you run these memos down to your office?"
"This memo is completely pointless!"
"These people have nothing better to do."
"David is beyond help."
"He just gave me the evil eye."
"Did you see that new TV show last night?"
"That girl was about to open up a can of whup-ass!"
"You really like that phrase don't you?"
"Sarah, you're silly."

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That's why I feed them Purina.

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German Whoopie Huts

Preparing for the Olympics can take unexpected turns. I keep shaking my head. Especially at the part that says "40,000 prostitutes may travel to Germany to offer their services to fans." Fans of sports or fans of prostitutes? Apparently Germany believes they are one and the same.

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Finnish Your Blog Before Dessert

For all you know this could be the coolest, funniest, wittiest blog in the whole wide world.

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Have you seen Moochie?

These people are missing a Moochie. Perhaps you know where he went.

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If you're looking for me, I'm over here wasting time. Please feel free to join me. Can't talk now; have to find a weapon of mass destruction...

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Bambi Rambo

Leave it to dag to find proof of animal warfare.

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Skip to the Loo

Next time you have to go, try skipping. To. The. Loo.

Don't skip going to the loo.

That would just be silly.

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Change Your Race

Random Photo of the Day

I think it's a float.

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This is Squee one of kittenwar's winningest kitties. I am paralyzed by its cuteness. I see now where the Japanese get their inspiration.

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Name Your Own Band

I realize it is cheating to use a generator to come up with your band name, but sometimes the best names come from nowhere. So, take this generator and learn to fly.

I came up with Puppy Fist.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Puppy Fist!

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Monkey See, Monkey Blog

If a thousand monkeys had a thousand computers and blogged for a thousand years... it would probably look a lot like the internet today.

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And to be even fairer, I should state that I got the link for Hulk's Diary (see below) from dag's blog.

There. I think that covers all the bases.

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Hulk Helped Me Find The Kitties...

Alright, to be fair, I got the kittenwar link (see below) from Hulk's Diary. I guess I should give him credit for the find before he smashes me.

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Fight, Kitties!

In this war, it's every kitten for themself.

(please be sure to check out the winningest and losingest kittens)

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I just might take next week off...



One of my favorite photo blogs ever!

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Becoming A Corporate Blogger

I came across an article in the Wall Street Journal's online career journal yesterday which astounded me. It basically told me that the way in which I waste time right now at my somewhat easy and unchallenging desk job is actually earning some lucky sons-of-bloggers up to $75k a year.

My jaw dropped. Paid top dollar to blog? Impossible! But this apparently phenomenon is catching on. Top companies want a friendly face and a conversational tone to their otherwise cold, money-grubbing exterior. And that's where colloquial geniuses like myself come in quite handy. The art of writing in a conversational tone is, apparently, highly sought after by the pin-head, stuffed shirts in the corporate world. Yippee!

Now I just have to find a company dumb enough to hire me after saying all those disparaging things about corporate environment... Let's just get out the Yellow Pages, shall we...?

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k_sra's Stuff Mart

My official online store is finally open!

It's not much, but it pays the bills... *snicker*

Buy as much as you like. I hear they make the t-shirts out of rehydrated banana peels.

Hell, you can even sign up for a newsletter! I don't know what it could possibly say, but there it is: ---------> Over in the sidebar there.

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Crying While Eating

Let's Hear It For The Bloke

For all the women who can't get enough...

Seriously what is it with the British accent and the US ladies? Have we been brainwashed by Hollywood films where the aristocracy (and ironically, the villians) of every country are played by Brits? My sis was talking TV crushes last week and it got me thinking about my TV crushes. The earliest I can remember was for an actor in a Caramello ad. (Sorry I couldn't find a picture. It was some time ago.) He was rather nice looking, dark-haired guy with no spoken lines. (so I can't be sure what country he was from, but I believe Cadbury's is a British company. So there you go.) His only job as an actor was to enjoy that Caramello bar and damnit, he did!

Current TV crushes include one guy: Ed Sanders from Extreme Makeover Home Edition. "What?" I hear you say, "Not Ty-my abs-are-so-chiseled-I'm-probably-gay Pennington?" No, sadly, he does nothing for me. But Ed... dear lord! It's the accent, I'm telling you. And he's married, which is great! (For those who don't know, marriage only enhances a TV crush. It makes the actor appear more sincere and loving, etc, etc, and if they ever leave their wives, ratings drop like spring flowers.)

So is it just me or is there something in the broad range of UK accents that have some sort of magical appeal to US women? And if so, what so?

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Come Back, Amelia!

I don't remember how old I was when I first read the Emelia Bedelia books. They were entertaining and charming even then. I have just reread a few. Not only is Wallace Tripp one of my favorite illustrators, Emelia Bedelia is on of my heroines. I did not fully appreciate until now how much of her style has filtered into my life. My teaching style, for instance: where you can do absolutely anything you want, but always confound expectation and if all else fails, baked goods will make everything right again. Thank goodness for heros!

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