When I was a kid, our next door neighbors had a Hammond organ. They used to let me play it but their sheet music selection was pretty limited.

Very limited.

Let’s put it this way: if you ever form a Jim Croce cover band and need some funky organ breaks for “Time in a Bottle,” I’m your girl.

I have no idea how this post was supposed to end because I went down a rabbit hole for a while. I was linking to Jim Croce’s website and the front page link for “dinner reservations” was deeply confusing until I discovered it led to the Croce’s Restaurant site. Croce’s Restaurant is closing in December. It’s in San Diego, I bet Batty has been there.

I should really get back to lecture writing. Or watching shitty movies. Ooh, my lecture is on urban legends, so I could watch the movie Urban Legends and multitask!

I took the top image in Sarasota. Batgrl took the 2nd one in San Diego.



IMG_0835, originally uploaded by meanlouise.

I’m posting these not because they’re silly or because the top image features 50% of Team Meat (me, Eric and JunglePete) in one place, but because it’s yet another example of the the strange parallel universe Batgrl (aka Photobat) and I inhabit. Incidentally, Batgrl is also a member of Team Meat.

Jen tagged [tag]Batgrl[/tag] for the [tag]123 meme[/tag] and Batty tagged me. When I’m done, I might tag you, so pay attention.

The 123 Rules:
1) Pick up the book nearest you with at least 123 pages. (No cheating!)
2) Turn to page 123.
3) Count the first five sentences.
4) Post the next three sentences.
5) Tag five other bloggers.

Here goes:

[tag]Neal Stephenson[/tag], [tag]Zodiac[/tag]

I had an idea already: 1,4-diamino butane; a.k.a., putrescine – the distinctive chemical scent given off my decaying corpses. I could whip up a batch and carry it with me. That would give anyone second thoughts.

JunglePete needs a copy of this book, although I worry it might give him ideas. So as not to digress, I’ll sing praises to Zodiac tomorrow on my bookblog.

In the meantime, I need to tag five bloggers. Hmmmm.
1) [tag]Cyd[/tag] (a Raveler. Her first meme!)
2) [tag]MizShoes[/tag] (a Raveler, a blog365 member, and one of my oldest link swappers! Er, in blog years, not our age).
3) [tag]Stereotypical Single Woman[/tag] (blog365)
4) [tag]Rae[/tag] (blog365)
5) [tag]Burt Reynolds’ Mustache[/tag] (hilarious)

There you go. I probably destroyed all order in the universe by giving in to a meme, the first in 8 years of blogging, unless I’ve repressed doing one somewhere along the line. I’m not anti-meme. Honestly, I just usually forget I’ve been tagged for ages because I’m an airhead.

I was gathering data the other night (seriously. I love my work) and ran across an mp3 of the insipid and annoying 80s hit I Eat Cannibals by the equally insipid and annoying Toto Coelo.

Last night I mentioned to doppleganger Batgrl that I’d had this stupid song stuck in my head ever since I downloaded the mp3. She was much relieved, as she didn’t know why she’d been obsessed with that song all week. She’d even been hunting for an mp3 of said evil ditty, with no luck. I solved her problem (which is only fair, since I caused it via brainwaves) and we all lived happily ever after.

I have a long rambling post about compulsory licensing of music in the digital environment, but I figured if it was boring to me it was boring to everyone. So instead I began spinning elaborate conspiracy theories revolving around the appearance of the giant eagles in Alaska and the earthquake, but I’m too tired to explain them. Just trust me, I have an elaborate conspiracy theory. It involves eagles with 20 foot wingspans creating catastrophic geologic events. And Canadians. Because there are always Canadians in my conspiracy theories.

I have more links about Steller’s Sea Eagles but they’ll have to wait as they’re on the other computer and I really need to finish my work and eat dinner sometime before midnight. I’m a delicate flower you know and I do need my beauty sleep.

Before I go, I should remind you to watch out for odd occurances like raining frogs and shooting stars. The Bat and I are back in the same geographic area for a few days.

And yes, we do plan to gossip about him, and no, I won’t be repeating any of it so don’t bother asking.

Next time Batty bemoans her unfinished dissertation, point out to her that playing the IKEA game probably isn’t the most productive thing to be spending her time on.