( fun quiz with the awesomeness of adding your own image to the results )
I've been saying for years that McDonald's Corp. ought to diversify into biodiesel. This franchise owner is saving around $350/week in fuel cost, and will recover the cost of the conversion in eight months (per car). I wonder how much he is saving in disposal charges?
( Full of Obvious - Say the words, for Eros' sake. )
I've been thinking that love is a box of crayons. Not any box, but the 64 color big box with the sharpener. Sure, there are bigger boxes now, but that was the one I coveted, the one with complex hues and metallics. I couldn't imagine a bigger box. I used to think some of the colors were grotesque; I questioned who would want green-yellow. Hopeful about others, I tried to use burnt umber. I wasn't allowed to use silver or gold, because I wasn't old enough to handle them. Now that I am, they're nice, but I'm just as likely to select azure.
Speaking of green-yellow, the hypenated names taught me about subtle differences. There was blue-green and green-blue, not called teal then, and red-violet and violet-red, and green-yellow/yellow-green. They were distinct, despite being called what sounded alike. Colors are hard to describe, even when they've been given a label.
Over time, the color names have changed, to ones like Screamin' Green. I think love expectations have been remarketed, too, since the 80's.
Black was the color I would wear out the most, the crayon I'd break first. The peeled half-bare crayon. I liked to do the thing where you cover up a calico of mixed colors with a coating of black, then scrape through for multi-hued lines.
I still have my favorites. Green-blue, dark violet, "unrealistic skin color" peach. I use red liberally, copper sparingly. A person could make do with a basic prismatic; I suspect that a lot of people think that a one row box covers the spectrum. You can get depth out of shading, using the crayon harder or softer as you color. They don't blend very well; attempts will yield either a new, unexpected hue or a mess.
How's that for an extended metaphor?
I'm a Porsche 911!
You have a classic style, but you're up-to-date with the latest technology. You're ambitious, competitive, and you love to win. Performance, precision, and prestige - you're one of the elite,and you know it.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
I want my next car to be something sporty and fun to drive. That makes it much less likely that I'll be getting a car again in the near future. I would mean a chance for more QT, but at the expense of enviroguilt. It's not the emissions, it's the tires.
( personality meme with colorbars )
I think they mean "They like to boil Brittany Spears in cabbage." Results also indicate that others like me may be Japanese water demons.
- You Are The Wayward Heart
You are best described as 'Emotional Support'. Anytime an emotional issue comes up or something stresses people out, you are there to help them feel better about it. Whether you are the prankster of the bunch, the funny one, the wild one, or just the shoulder to cry on - your traits favor what it takes to keep people going. You like large groups of people and have many friends. When something hits home for you, however, you have a hard time with it. You also have difficulty paying attention or focusing on one thing. Above all, though, if people are happy, you are happy.
Which Classic Story Role Do You Play?
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Seriously, what is that expression on her face?!? She looks like Hispanic Barbie.
Yesterday I went to the nicest movie theater in Seattle, the Majestic Bay, to see (after much delay) Brokeback Mountain. It made me more angry than sad, in a Moby-esque "Everything is Wrong" kind of way. An excellent movie, not over-hyped, well-made and subtle in the right places.
It seems unbalanced to recommend another same-sex-love movie in the same breath, but last week I saw Imagine Me & You, which is complete fluff by comparison... but not the stupid fluff it might seem to be, if you take away the comparison with an Academy Award level film. I kind of can't stand the Beatles, but the story follows right out of the song as if the song were a story prompt; it's kind of funny.
I can recommend this movie because it has character depth created by the quality of the acting. I suspect that the script would be garbage without that. The dialog would have been unmercifully predictable had I not been completely charmed by the performances. Anthony Stuart Head (Giles, from BtVS -- do I even need to tell you that?) plays the father in a wonderfully vague, distracted, rumpled way. He had me spilling a few tears, but then, I always cry at the wrong things, don't I?
Oh, and that one has a happy ending, in a believable way.
You're a wanker, Number 9.
In other news, there is a GINORMOUS cat at L's workplace. He was abandoned a few days ago, left in a carrier in the back hallway with an expensive-looking knit blanket. He weighs over 23 pounds without being fat, has a head as big as a Fuji apple, and is bright-eyed and gentle. Unlike most abandoned cats, he isn't acting angry and resentful. He has a better personality than my Aya.
There is a high likelyhood that he's part wildy, but since the illegality of that mix would be a death sentence for him, we're saying he's just, y'know, a very big silver tabby with a manx tail. No tufts on the ears, thankfully.
Should you feel inclined to come out and see him, there is West 5 next door, and Elliott Bay Brewery across the street, and W.Seattle's Matador... and Tom Yum Koon Thai... and Than Bro.s Pho, with their options of meat, seafood, & vegetarian pho, down the street... .