I only just recently fell in love with the Brits.

Download (yes, pay the $6.95, oh the insanity) the Ricky Gervais Show podcast. It is, in a word, fabulous. I can't say enough lovely things. It is informative, witty, ridiculous, and above all... they use the expression "absolute bollocks" frequently. Also, the word "evolution" is pronounced "ee-volution" which just sounds so much more intelligent.

"The spectacle was stopped 12 minutes in when 28 out of the 42 midgets were proclaimed dead." Who can possibly say this and get away with it?

YES.

Never tell someone with a weapon that you attended college.

Ahh, the joys of having a bullshit job where I can read for approximately 68% of my day.

1. When You Are Engulfed in Flames: the latest collection of cleverness by David Sedaris.

Well obviously I recommend reading each and every one of his books, but this was definitely one of the better ones. I particularly enjoyed the random thought-provoking questions ("What was Jesus like as a teenager?" and "Why do you never see a baby squirrel?") scattered throughout the book but it's his twisted fascination with the morbid and macabre that I truly connect with. A section with the description of a Japanese hotel room and the simple instructions to follow in dire situations (hence the title). My favorite chapter, however, was how to play down your education after attending an Ivy-league school ("Who? Me? Princeton's not even that hard to get into"). And now I want a baby skeleton for my very own.

2. Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close: My first book by Jonathan Safran Foer, recommended by a friend with exceptional reading taste. Utterly loved it, loved everything about it. I think this is the first thing I've read that mentions (and even somewhat centers around) September 11th that I didn't find trite or boring. I like books that are interspersed with letters or random images that make you feel like you're part of the narrator's life.

3. Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk. Completely disappointed, not only with the fanatically large print and severely lacking 150 pages (that is a novella in my opinion, not a book) but the story was... silly. Usually I find his random twistedness charming but I was just bored. A porn star sets out to make a record-breaking movie where she gang-bangs 600 guys... one of whom just might be her son? Chuck, my dear, I think you lost me at Survivor.

One final question, why oh why was Love in the Time of Cholera (the film) made in English??

More cult craziness, in the form of fish suicide.

First off, let me start by saying that I do not in any way consider myself a "girly girl." Granted I would wear 4" stillettos and wads of black eyeliner every day if possible, but given the opportunity I would also watch an open-heart surgery without batting an eye (eff, I'd perform one given the time and proper education). I get sickly excited when one of our pets needs a minor procedure performed where I get to wear surgical gloves (preferably the purple variety). However, what greeted me this morning actually had me close to retching.

Let's say that I was in a position to come to work this morning and discover 7 dead koi (lovely Japanese fishes that everyone instinctively falls in love with and usually names [note: this is idiotic as we shall see, FISH DIE EASILY]). Said kamikaze fish had been out of water for approximately 6-97 hours based on their state of decomposition. What led me to them was a 3-foot long trail of fly larva (maggots, for you intellectually challenged) and the absolutely overpowering smell of evil. I would say in total, there were about 83 million now teeming on the floor. My first thought, well, run for my life coupled with an intense disgusting fascination. Let me also add that I have had a 102-degree fever/flu for the last 3 days and had nothing in my stomach but some Tylenol cold/flu.

I went to find some sort of cleaner (preferably of the bleach variety) as I figured I could at least help out by standing at a safe distance and toxically blasting the little guys. I was vastly disappointed when all that we had was "Sun and Earth All Purpose Cleaner." Now normally I would be very proud of my dad for buying such an earth-friendly product. However, when trying to kill/maim/torture thousands of tiny creepy crawlies, the words "Safe to use around children and pets too!" do not bring any inkling of comfort. Sigh. Anyway, problem solved (note: not by my hands but by someone with a far stronger constitution than I while I stood outside in the fresh air, every now and then peering around the corner to appear helpful but mainly thanking fictional Jesus that I was born at the top of the food chain).