1. image: Download

    Sad Clowns who have secretly abandoned their formal livelihoods retain their ability to masquerade as any of the other characters.  It is pretty near to completely harrowing to coulrophobes.
Is that a Revolutionary Guy?  No, that is a Sad Clown who has undertaken the mantle of rebellious sedition as part of an attempted escape from the self.  But regardless his adopted trappings and accoutrements, he will always have Sad Clown DNA on the inside. (A little gross, a little tragic.)
…
One finds weird things on a desktop when manuscript deadlines start to get serious.

    Sad Clowns who have secretly abandoned their formal livelihoods retain their ability to masquerade as any of the other characters.  It is pretty near to completely harrowing to coulrophobes.

    Is that a Revolutionary Guy?  No, that is a Sad Clown who has undertaken the mantle of rebellious sedition as part of an attempted escape from the self.  But regardless his adopted trappings and accoutrements, he will always have Sad Clown DNA on the inside.
    (A little gross, a little tragic.)

    One finds weird things on a desktop when manuscript deadlines start to get serious.

     
  2. "David M. Roderick, President”
    (SUCH a good basketball player.)

    [Ad from Anchorage Daily News, 19750305.]

     
  3. I remember thinking, This is the best moment of my entire life and the worst moment of his.
    — LCK
     
  4. On the Grimace (non-FACS related): 

…He has an unnamed mom, an unnamed dad, a grandma  named “Winky”, a great, great grandma named Jenny Grimace, and might be  brothers with “King Gonga”… In  “Grimace’s Oddysey”, Grimace is portrayed as a ham radio enthusiast who  uses a homemade transmitter made from a colander. Grimace’s physical  appearance is difficult to describe, even for the other denizens of  McDonaldland. Ronald says Grimace has his mother’s eyes, while Birdie  says he has his father’s prominent chin, and Hamburglar jokingly says he  has his Grandma Winky’s fat ankles. Despite his massive girth, Grimace  took ballet classes.

I was going to make an observation about Brak and the recurrent editorial choice of turning erstwhile vaguely capable villains into incompetent boobs. 
And then, I was going to comment on how parallel structure and oxford commas lead to the inference that Grimace has “might be brothers” that maybe would be related to possible giants.  And the brothers perhaps have a malady with a weird name. 
And let’s not even take first steps into re-imagining Grimace’s “Odyssey”, which drops into Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey territory and OHMYGOD, Grimace doesn’t play the role of Odysseus, he plays the role of HOMER.  What a narrator.  "It all started when I guy named Troy fell.  Maybe he tripped on a fry-guy."  I’ve got a deep Ithacan back catalog.
And, eventually, I probably would have gotten around to ruminations on whether it was “difficult to describe” Grimace because in the McDonaldland universe no one can envision what a giant eggplant with limbs and a face would look like OR, because all his former enemies/current friends are under the constant pressure to distinguish themselves as good guys and be polite and decent clowns/anthropomorphic birds/hamburger monsters.  Which, clearly, would have been dead center of my wheelhouse of private/public self-conscious worries about judging alternate universes without leaning too hard on cultural relativism, being “good”, and being awkward looking.  Could have hit that out of the park.
But, as is often the case, I glanced peripherally upward and learned that playing the role of MINI-ME was actually a dwarfsploitation/baby-step UP from being RONALD McDONALD’s DOG, Sundae.  Which is a far more important thing to focus on, obviously, as now I am wheezing with the intellectual excitement of a cascade of tangents. 
Oddly enough, now that I have written this, I will likely work instead.Thus ended lunch.

    On the Grimace (non-FACS related):

    …He has an unnamed mom, an unnamed dad, a grandma named “Winky”, a great, great grandma named Jenny Grimace, and might be brothers with “King Gonga”… In “Grimace’s Oddysey”, Grimace is portrayed as a ham radio enthusiast who uses a homemade transmitter made from a colander. Grimace’s physical appearance is difficult to describe, even for the other denizens of McDonaldland. Ronald says Grimace has his mother’s eyes, while Birdie says he has his father’s prominent chin, and Hamburglar jokingly says he has his Grandma Winky’s fat ankles. Despite his massive girth, Grimace took ballet classes.

    I was going to make an observation about Brak and the recurrent editorial choice of turning erstwhile vaguely capable villains into incompetent boobs. 

    And then, I was going to comment on how parallel structure and oxford commas lead to the inference that Grimace has “might be brothers” that maybe would be related to possible giants.  And the brothers perhaps have a malady with a weird name. 

    And let’s not even take first steps into re-imagining Grimace’s “Odyssey”, which drops into Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey territory and OHMYGOD, Grimace doesn’t play the role of Odysseus, he plays the role of HOMER.  What a narrator.  "It all started when I guy named Troy fell.  Maybe he tripped on a fry-guy."  I’ve got a deep Ithacan back catalog.

    And, eventually, I probably would have gotten around to ruminations on whether it was “difficult to describe” Grimace because in the McDonaldland universe no one can envision what a giant eggplant with limbs and a face would look like OR, because all his former enemies/current friends are under the constant pressure to distinguish themselves as good guys and be polite and decent clowns/anthropomorphic birds/hamburger monsters.  Which, clearly, would have been dead center of my wheelhouse of private/public self-conscious worries about judging alternate universes without leaning too hard on cultural relativism, being “good”, and being awkward looking.  Could have hit that out of the park.

    But, as is often the case, I glanced peripherally upward and learned that playing the role of MINI-ME was actually a dwarfsploitation/baby-step UP from being RONALD McDONALD’s DOG, Sundae.  Which is a far more important thing to focus on, obviously, as now I am wheezing with the intellectual excitement of a cascade of tangents. 

    Oddly enough, now that I have written this, I will likely work instead.
    Thus ended lunch.

     
  5. Bibliotecadventures #3. The Newtown Junior High School Library

    If I ran down the hall across from the humanities rooms, grabbed the door jamb, and swung my other arm into the room, I could have a handful of Douglas Adams.  I may have once almost clotheslined someone and hurt myself while doing that, which explains the fact that I could remember that the librarians there did not like me, but I could not remember why.

    I still find it comforting knowing where certain books are.  If there’s ever a crisis…and we need to save the books—I’m on it!

     
  6. Show your manuscript to a guy in your lab, a guy in a lab down the hall, and your wife.
    — 

    Old-timey scientist adage, the point of which is to ensure that technical problems, clarity problems, and non-content problems are all caught.  

    [bowdlerized text that would have provided context for the following:]

    …That makes me sound like I would pay handsomely.  I totally would.  In hugs.  Maybe even in hugs.  (Yikes.)  I do like contextually appropriate hugs though.  It sometimes takes a second or two to adjust to the idea of them, but even a B- hug is still on the good side of the standard curve of experiences.

     
  7. Awkward Stories that my Former Housemate (and Maybe Some Others, but Mostly Just That One Former Housemate,) Probably Will Enjoy and/or Quietly Delight in Judging
    — 

    The novelization of this and other electronic communications would be so somehow simultaneously or alternately chaste and tawdry that putting my name on it would be impossible.  I think it would be sold in “Teen Fiction”, despite being “Awkward Twenty-Something Fact”.  Maybe in the “Cautionary Tales” section of the store.  That’s still a section, right?

    In the unlikely event that you encounter something that is not covered here, find a woman named Elizabeth Lemon, get her advice, and then do the opposite.