The problem with fluorescent yellow toenail polish, of course, is that the fluorescence fades. And then you’re just left with yellow toenails.
* * * * *
Pacing is not my forte. I’ve devoured the first two seasons of The West Wing in about three weeks’
time. I’m taking a break now. And also from Scrabble. I have no turns left to
play; my games are completed; so long, time
suck. (Not a very nice term, but
an accurate one.)
* * * * *
Searching for the right word for my immoderate consumption
of the aforementioned TV show led me to the synonym “bolted.” Which reminded me
of this classic exchange between my father and his colleague many years ago…in
the A-Town middle school faculty lunch room:
Mr. Smalley: Quit
Bolton your food.
Mr. Bolton: OK, I’ll
take Smalley bites
* * * * *
Speaking of quality television programming, our daughter
Delia favours a Canadian kid show called Calliou
(pronounced K-eye-yu). The theme song provides ample explanation of the show’s
premise: “I’m just a kid who’s 4 / Each day I grow some more / I like exploring
/ I’m Calliou. So many things to do / Each day is something new / I’ll share
them with you / I’m Calliou, Calliou, I’m Calliou, Calliou… That’s me!”
We canceled cable, so we watch stuff on Neflix now, which
allows you to rate what you watch, which prompts the system to suggest more
shows you’d likely enjoy, based on your ratings. The other day I noticed that Calliou had received only one star out
of five. Turns out Reuben, in an understated expression of rebellion, had
expressed his distaste for the whiny, bald-headed preschooler with overly patient
parents. Can’t say I blame him.
* * * * *
And in the NON-children’s television category, check out
this blush-worthy vignette from the Ellen Degenres Show, in which my sister and
brother-in-law’s nephew, Mike, WINS the Ellen Underwear Contest. As my mother
might say, “Now I’ve seen everything!” Or…er…almost everything.
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