* * *
Department of Confessions:
I was an asshole today.
Dateline: Monday 5-11
Walking in downtown Portland, on my way from errand #324.56  to meet a friend for lunch, I began to cross a street where, as a pedestrian, I had the right of way. I still of course checked cross traffic before proceeding into the intersection. A car approaching from the right heeded the stop sign but “hurried up to it,” if you know what I mean and I think you do.
When I noticed the car was a A Shiny New Black Porsche With Tinted Windows ® , I slowed my pace, from purposeful stride to aimless saunter. Petty person that I am, I gloated to myself, Dude, you can afford to wait.
* * *
What a Difference a Vowel Makes
I gave a cursory glance to an article in Monday’s New York Times about an important figure who chose to miss a series of important meetings with President Obama scheduled for this week, then thought to myself,
Well, yeah, what with swimming upstream to meet with his lady friends you think he’s got better things to do…oh, wait, that can’t be right.
A more careful reading of the article’s headline indicated that was Saudi Arabia’s King Salman who had chosen to skip the meeting.
Ahem. That’s King Salman,
and not King Salmon.
* * *
Washington State Follows Old Testament Advice
Who knew our liberal neighbors to the north were closet bible-thumpers? Apparently, when the citizens of Washington voted to legalize both gay marriage and recreational marijuana, they were heeding the admonition found in the book of Leviticus:
“If a man lays with another man, as with a woman, he should be stoned.”
* * *
I was standing in a line at a store and, apropos of nothing, began thinking about those precious name spellings you sometimes encounter at certain introductions of certain people:
My name is Cindy – that’s spelled Syn-De-E…
This led to further futile brain spinning deep consideration; specifically, I wondered if somewhere out there, someone – possibly one of the Portland Hipster baby-fedora-sporting fathers whom my friend SCM  encounters at her child’s OMSI Homeschool Science Club and other classes  – is introducing himself thusly:
I’m Liam’s and Leo’s daddy – that’s spelled Dad-De-E…
* * *
Speaking of Hipster Shit
(Aka, FFS, Dude, wash your hands and don’t touch your face when you visit the toidy)
How many times have you gazed upon one of the long, scraggly, wooly face mammoths that are inexplicably yet currently in fashion among hipsters and baseball players, and thought to yourself,
What a shitty-looking beard.
Turns out, you were righter than you know. Because, science.
A group of microbiologists in New Mexico did a swab study of of men’s beards and discovered that many contained more…er…”poo microbes” than the average toilet bowl.
“I’m usually not surprised, and I was surprised by this,” New Mexico microbiologist John Golobic of Quest Diagnostics said to a local TV news station. “Those are the types of things you’d find in (fecal matter). The “degree of uncleanliness” was so “disturbing,” Golobic said, that if similar bacteria were found in a water supply, it would be closed for disinfecting.
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Mark your Calendars
File this event under Not In A Million Years and/or Even If It Were The Last Entertainment Available In The Cosmos:
Although, if this come-on – “a guest post by the organizer of the Central PA qualifier, which took place on April 25th” – doesn’t get you interested in the cognitive retardation masking as sport “art” of Air Guitar, what will?
The Amish Airssasin opened the evening with a hip-gyrating experience…rumor has it that wasn’t a pair of socks enhancing the efforts put forth by his leather pants. A trio of airists airy—Rear Admiral Kickass, Dirk Smathers, and AirMiller—ensured the area will enter into a lifelong co-dependent relationship with air guitar.
* * *
May all of your encounters with facial hair be fecal-matter free,
may you safely saunter in front of the luxury car of your choice,
and may the hijinks ensue.
Thanks for stopping by.
 Getting a graduation card – yikes! – for K.
 She of the multiple slash identities, including attorney/writer/social mores critic/reluctant homeschooler….
 Note to such men: if a mother in one of those groups asks you a question or shares an observation, she is merely trying to be civil/relieve the tedium by making adult conversation. She is not coming on to you, so get over yourself.
 Most likely I’ll be writing more footnotes.