2 cups leafy green verbs
1 cup adjectives, chopped
1/2 cup pronouns
6 dangling participles
2 cups overripe nouns, minced
12 prepositions, peeled and diced
1 cup ripe conjunctions
6 articles, slightly blanched
1/2 tsp. intelligence
1 qt. hubris
In a large bowl, combine the verbs and adjectives. Set aside.
Season a large saute pan with participles. Gradually add nouns, prepositions, and conjunctions. Stir until lumps are gone. Add intelligence, one drop at a time, and continue to stir until intelligence disappears.
Drizzle saute mixture over verbs and adjectives. Serve on red, white and blue plates with a generous dollop of hubris. Season to taste with non-sequiturs.
Perfect for those parties of … ya know … reporters. Your guests will be saying “Thanks, but no thanks!”
I spotted this creative use of stick-on letters today:
Res ipsa loquitur:
(Istanbul, outside the Blue Mosque.)
So I’m not sure if the sign in the following picture is a result of language barrier, part of the Turkish sense of humor, or both:
I spotted the sign in a booth near the ruins in Ephesus, Turkey, a stone’s throw from where St. Paul is said to have spoken to the Ephesians. Judging by the commerce that surrounds the place (“Hey, mister, you want your picture taken with a camel?”), I guess it’s safe to say that Turkey is a secular society.
It’s L.A., so I’ve come to accept the fact that everything here revolves around cars. But with this sighting, I proved to myself that I can still be surprised:
I guess there must have been some sort of unreported automotive rapture, and the vehicle to which these wheels were once attached was spirited away. (So what does that say about the vehicles that remain?)
I guess the strippers are still going to be busy celebrating the birth of the baby Jesus.
It’s all over but the laughing, now.
It’s astonishing, however, how cavalier Dubya was when he admitted — almost boasted — that he lied only a week earlier about Rumsfeld’s imminent departure because there was an election coming up. Pretty vile.
Well, at least he’s outta here. Good riddance, Don, you stubborn old coot. Don’t let the Pentagon door hit you in the ass on your way out.
People here take their parking spaces seriously …