Everything else is just marketing

I know we covered this with breathless abandon over at geek-chick.net, but I couldn't let another day go by without discussing Vanessa Carlton's upcoming album on my site. For those of you who haven't heard, you should take a look at Vanessa Carlton's interview/blurb available at Rolling Stone. Let me start with a choice quote:

Week Of Music #3: the church of Steely Dan

I'd love to tell you where it began, but the truth is that I don't remember. Instead, I have to choose a beginning point, arbitrary though it is, and begin from there.

The speed limit on the Cutoff was 40, but anyone with half a brain knew that the cops never policed that section of road, because there was no place for them to park, and even if there was, Bauxite didn't have cops anyway. The descent to the paved-over area where the railroad track used to be was one such that if you hit it at just the right speed, your car wouldn't go airborne, but you would.

ssssshhhh serenade

I realize that it's cheeky of me to rant and ramp about the parenting choices of other people when spouse and I do not have children ourselves, but there are some decisions that just strike me as incredibly wrong, even from a childless person's standpoint.

What Will is having for dinner

I never thought I'd see the day that I had a post that qualified under both "freeform writing" and "kitchen life." I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it would be Will that would make it happen.

He's adorable, and the next time we get together, he's making me dinner. I'll even buy the wine and clean the kitchen up afterwards.

I present what is, quite possibly, the most conversational recipe known to mankind. I can't even read it without getting a grin. It's probably the next best thing to actually getting to eat it.

Lingering sweetness

Tsk. Can't be having this, folks. Those silly referer logs; they tell me when you're linking to my site. Next thing you know I'll be thinking that the referers mean that someone's actually reading this site, and if I thought that, then I'd feel infinitely more guilty about not posting many updates.

Oh, wait. I already feel guilty.So, yes. I'll tell you a story, see, and you'll all (all three of you!) feel better, having gotten your fix for the day.