I've officially started writing my dissertation. I don't have any substantial amount and for all I know none of the words I wrote today will end up in the final edition, but it helps to get beyond the blank page. When I am certain that I know what direction its going in I will say something further, maybe. I do with promises the same thing I do with manicure appointments, that is, not make them. Thats a pretty sweet analogy. I should work for the SAT.
I like to do some fact checking on this here blog, make sure the information I send out to the world is accurate for the most part, and it was in that vein that I rewatched Nelly's smash hit "Errtime" last night. Beyond the fact that Snoop invents a great new dance move I like to call the booty mime (wherein one moves ones hands behind a booty, as if to mime a grabbing and shaking of aforementioned booty) I think that whatever the objective score of this video would be, were videos objectively scored, it should be docked more than a couple points for failing to make a crucial, rhyme. It could also be called the Diss on Andy Kemp Award for Refusing to Rhyme the Word Vagina Despite its Obvious Deservedness. When three consecutive lyrics (make your mind up...ain't gon' find her...she looks finer...) all end with the "ein-uh" noise you shouldn't be legally allowed to skip it. These are likely my last thoughts about Nelly's "Errtime" but again, I am to promises what Napoleon was to Japan.
On All American Festivals today they featured the Frankfort, Indiana Hot Dog Festival. I do love hot dogs and all and I have never really seen a food based festival that didn't look awesome, but the fact that every food festival the Food Network covers has to have some sort of cooking competition contributed poorly to this episode. Garlic, chiles, onions, etc. most foods that have festivals are somewhat adaptable. That is, you can feature them, they can be flavorings, they can play as breads, casseroles, glazes, and usually even some form of sweets. Hot dogs have no such adaptability. If you are talking about cooking with hot dogs (which, at least for the purpose of these cooking competitions, implies not just topping them or cooking them in some creative way, that is, corn dogs don't count, neither do Chicago style) the only thing you can really do is casseroles and hot dog casseroles are fucking disgusting. One dude made a franks and beans casserole, which was only marginally totally disgusting, while another made something that involved layering potatoes, broccoli, and hot dogs gratin style which was one of the nastiest things that human civilization, even in the form that it takes in Southern Indiana, has ever come up with. Regardless, I would like to go to the hot dog festival. Not as much as Southern Cali's garlic festival or Walla Walla's onions, but it still sounds phat.
Hippo was hanging out with me while I spent the afternoon writing. Every now and then she would try to jump onto the keyboard and alter some sentence because she didn't like my formulation. She sat next to me and read along through the course of the Three Essays and Beyond the Pleasure Principle, which I must admit is among her favorite Freud. After a while I think she got frustrated since I occassionally misconstrued her attempts at editorial suggestion as a kittenish desire to play with a pen or have her tumnmy petted, and as a result she just chilled out near the window and occassionally batted at a gum wrapper. She sends her love, a bag of catnip, and a purr-purr meow.
Peace,
MB-K
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