To Sense: just a few pennies

Why is it that, when an opinion is required of me, it just doesn't happen? I feel like I work too hard to actually engage my brain enough to create interesting and worthy opinions (ok, interesting and worthy, aside--ANY opinions).

Here lie da plot o'space wherein me can leave ideas--opinions, even!--when they come, so that writing a column can be as easy as drawing a slip of paper from a hat. (ugh, instead of like the dry heaving it's been lately)

To continue my posting of totally useless things (this is not a real blog, I remind myself), here's a little tidbit for the girl who freaks out about junk mail: Your suspicions have been confirmed.

I like to tear up junk mail into tiny pieces and then throw the pieces in different garbage cans (and for some reason, I always consider eating a small piece of it, you know, so there'd be a missing piece ... but no, no, I don't eat paper or paste or dog food, even). Cockeyed did one of his famous experiments, this one with a torn-up credit card application.

The results? It's scary. Let's just say you should buy a shredder. Actually, maybe Mr. Cockerham should do a follow-up with a shredded application carefully taped back together... Yikes.

And to contnue my blogging of no consequence, here's Neil Gaiman's blog. Now, how exciting is that? Gaiman's books are some of the few full-length works that I have been able to get through since my career came to depend solely on reading and writing. Zac says it's fluff, but I think it's contemporary, stylish, intelligent storytelling that just happens to make a quick and pleasurable read.

Bumper stickers seem to be a dying breed. 'Course, I wish I could find more that I love, but I probably wouldn't actually stick them to my car. Mostly I guess I wish there were more for my reading pleasure.

I saw my new favorite around town today:

Frodo failed
Bush has the Ring