I feel like this edition of the kitchen sink is sort of a cheat, since I haven’t been writing anything lately besides that of the kitchen sink variety…given that most of my energy is going into keeping this flu out of my lungs, where it is certain to settle in like a cold, damp fog on an autumn afternoon in London.
Forgive me for the lack of depth here lately. Sometimes the depth, it refuses to cooperate.
So if I cannot be deep, I shall at least enjoy splashing in the shallows with abandon. Care to join me?
I made this lately.
It’s me. As a superhero. She knows how to kick some booty. You can make your own here. Leave me a comment if you make one; I wanna see!
Now, I need all you LOLCat-lovers to help me out. I have this succession of photos that are begging for captions, but my inherent grammarian refuses to allow me to come up with the hilariously mis-worded dialogue that cracks me up. Check it out:
That’s Mini, our rat terrier, blasting off. Maybe it’s only funny to me?
I’m reading a book right now that is absolutely destroying me. I think I need time to process all the emotions I am feeling while reading it, but trust me when I say that it will mess you up. In a good way. It’s educational, horrific, historic, hopeful, gruesome, and tender all in one. It’s called The Hospital By The River, and it amazes me that I have no problem reading about things that, were I witness to them, would cause me to be unconscious on the floor in 0.4 seconds.
My proclivity for becoming useless in bloody situations is of great frustration to me. Mostly because people who do not suffer from this affliction always imply that if I would just get a grip, I’d be fine. Rose (who has the same tendency) has theorized that, when one becomes woozy, if someone else would just slap them upside the head really, really hard, then it might pass. We have yet to test this theory.
I found this amazing site that is very much like tastespotting (slaver!), but for interior design. It gathers up all the latest cool (often) and bizarre (more often) furniture and architecture trends, and posts them in a grid-style-format. It’s called cribcandy, and what is truly fantastical about their finds are the prices. Egad. (disclaimer: while you would think interior design would be a fairly benign sphere in which to dabble, given that much of it is considered “art”–and if I could make quotes in triplicate, I would–I make no promises that there will not be an occasional bit of offensiveness encountered at said website. but mostly it seems okay)
Here is a smattering of fascinating things for your “crib” over at cribcandy:
It’s a mirror! With a built-in moustache!
A table, for those with collaplateauphobia (fear of tables spontaneously toppling)
This is a chair. What? It is too! Yes, it is!
See. I told you.
Remember what I said about “art”? Yeah. I think I made my point.
If I had never found cribcandy.com, I would have no idea that such things existed.
And that, clearly, would be a damn shame.