They Might Be Giants
Meet the Elements, 2009
It’s pretty much impossible not to love They Might Be Giants.
The cable went a few months ago (even though it’s still very much here and probably will be for the foreseeable future, considering the efficiency level of Time Warner) and tonight, the land line went away. Our little slice of paradise is now an iPhone-only household.
I am so insanely busy this week that I probably won’t notice the difference except for the fact that my answering machine will never again be blinking when I get home. Not that it ever blinked much before…
These signs can be seen on condom machines in better convenience store washrooms up and down the east coast, and they’ve always really irritated me. I’ll stipulate that abstinence or strictly monogamous relationships are indeed the most foolproof (albeit not necessarily the most realistic) means of avoiding HIV. But one does not have to be married to qualify. In fact, it’s not even a legal option for a significant part of the potential target market for this product.
About the last thing the world needs right now is a moralizing condom machine.
Doesn’t it?
A tweet where everything’s spelled correctly.
Random thoughts and links for a Sunday afternoon:
- If I’d known it were this easy and convenient, I’d have gone ahead and died years ago.
- The Toronto Star on neighborhood names. The SF Chronicle featured one of these a while back too.
- Interesting post on public infrastructure (mostly transit) design.
- Yinzers are running the world.
- Only another few weeks to wait for this one, in case you’re feeling generous.
Ricardo Arjona
Mojado, 2005
I had to go to Toronto during a heat wave instead of this coming week when the weather is going to be about as close to perfect as it gets.
By the way, did I mention that I’m one of the cool iPhone kids now?
What could be more fun than spending a half hour sitting naked in a very cold room waiting for a man you don’t find attractive (heck, a man you don’t even particularly like) to fondle your testicles and stick his finger up your ass?
Oh well. At least I’m relatively healthy. In fact, my BP and heart rate were almost startlingly low. I almost wonder if my poor doctor wasn’t a little disappointed that he didn’t get to write any prescriptions.