Observations, Flights of Fancy, Blasphemy, and Vulgarities, Not Necessarily in that Order

Flight of Fancy
Item, there is a gas pump one town over that has a flawed LCD display and instead of **authorizing** my debit card, it blandly notifies me that it is ** uthorizing** it. Whenever I see this I fully expect the card to seduce Igraine of Cornwall, kill her husband, and spawn that poor, tortured creature of misery, King Arthur, and I kind of want to mumble to the gas pump, "Please stop Utherizing my card. I do not need an Uther, unless he's going to stand quietly beside me all the time and hold my money." Then I picture John Cleese (evidently he equals Uther in my head) following me around with a sack of gold, bumping into me, spilling it, picking it up, spilling it again, and then sitting down to have a tantrum, before going off by coconut to seduce more women and father accursed offspring. And then I would cry out, "O! if only I hadn't accidentally Utherized my debit card!"

Observations
Item, the best book title in the world is Wirnt von Gravenberg's Wigalois. I am pretty sure it's German but how the hell do you pronounce Wigalois in German? So I pronounce it French-like. For those of you who don't speak French, that would make it more or less "wiggle-wah." Those of you who do speak French, please pretend that I am right about that.

Item, the best name in the world is Ewart Oakshott. No special instruction necessary.

Item, today I learned that Otto does not save anything he does on his computer because he doesn't know where it goes when it gets saved. I made fun of him, and then I used the fax machine wrong and got an e-mail from the recipient asking me whether I could please send it again because the pages were blank. Karma, it is real.

Blasphemy
Item, today Lindsey sent me a link to the thousand books most commonly found in libraries; you know: the Bible, Homer, Virgil, Calvin and Hobbes, etc. Having taken a look at the top 300 or so, I feel moved to say something truly terrible. SHAKESPEARE REALLY ANNOYS ME. It's like, ease up, dude. You don't have to knock us unconscious with your genius. "What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning!" What a jerk.

Item, I've gone off both bread and chocolate. Either it's a phase or the apocalypse is coming.

Vulgarities
Item, e-mail received from fellow West Winger, Katie P., after last night's episode.

Subject: ?????
First line: What the crap was that supposed to be?

This about sums it up. I felt that the episode left some questions unanswered, questions which I shall ennumerate now. Donna, where did you go? What if Josh had wanted to accidentally make out with you again? Bruno, why did you allow that to be done to your hair? Santos, why are you so dull? Hawkeye, why didn't you rewrite your lines so that they didn't make you look like a mediocre actor, which you are not? Jon Bon Jovi?! DEBORA CAHN, DID YOU GET LOCKED IN THE SECRET SERVICE VAN WITH BONO? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN? Oh, and Toby, I love you. That's not a question.

Let me just say, us girls in the forums (huggles!) [Becky, that's for you] were pret-ty bored during that dismal episode and the only thing that cheered me up (aside from getting that e-mail from Katie P.) was that someone on the forum linked to a picture of "our schmoo, Josh", looking utterly pwned, with this single, brilliant, perfect word: dipshit. I haven't heard anyone be called a dipshit since seventh grade, but boy does it fit Josh. How telling. Don't you all want to see the show now?

I will be very impressed with anyone who followed all of this. Probably not impressed enough to give you that proverbial cookie people are always talking about, but I might say "well done, you" and maybe kind of punch you in the arm.

That's all.