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Showing posts with label pondering the special place in hell reserved for those who dress dogs up and take funny pictures of them. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pondering the special place in hell reserved for those who dress dogs up and take funny pictures of them. Show all posts
Sunday, September 16, 2007

I just don't see it...

Mr and Mrs Wm. Stiteler -- AKA the Birdchick and Non-Birding Bill -- are currently in residence at my place in the US for the weekend, where Bill is trying to figure out why the upstairs Slingbox isn't slinging, and Sharon is checking the bees for mites (I think she may have to coat some 300 bees in powdered sugar, but don't quote me on this). Both of them are providing company to Cabal the dog. You would think that would be enough for them to do.

But nay. Far from it.

Someone wrote to Sharon's blog to say that my dog looked like me.

So Sharon and Bill decided to put it to the test. They just emailed me the results...



Nope. See? Nothing like me at all...

I've recovered from the Swedish trip, I think. One more day here in the UK before I fly to Japan.
So far the most unlikely thing I've done in the UK so far is see the revival of Boeing Boeing*, which was astonishingly funny, all things considered (although Rhea Perlman seemed a bit lumpy). Good farce is a fascinating artform -- things have to happen cumulatively in exactly the right way, and they have to build to a point where expected disasters happen in unexpected ways while unexpected reverses happen in satisfyingly expected ways -- one opening lie, or deception, or error has to ricochet and build through the plot, repercussing and causing more lies, more doors to open and close. I'd love to create a farce one day, but suspect I don't quite have the head for it.
Still, it might be fun to try.
*interestingly, if you Google "Boeing Boeing reviews" you get lots of Boing Boing hits, because Google knoews best.

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