I was going to refrain from commenting on Chicago's (Chicago???) 26-foot tall Marilyn Monroe upskirt statue, which gives passers-by a whole new perspective on the iconic scene from The Seven-Year Itch; I was remarking to Tam that I "wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole" when it occurred to me that, of course, if you stood in the right place, you most certainly could.
Not quite relatedly, when I own my very own planet, I'm gonna name it "DuLang." I'm going to name the biggest continent DuLang, too, and on a delightful bay on the coast of that continent, I'll establish the capital city, DuLang. In the bay will be a 400' statue of me (some decades ago), young and lovely, and it will be called She's So Fine (DuLang, DuLang, DuLang).
The Army of ever-hungry North Korea has refused to even consider establishing a small corps of musicians playing traditional Western instruments; they singled out one in particular as being an egregious example of decadent reactionary capitalism, declaring the country had no use whatsoever for a fifin' Nork.
And on the topic of food, breakfast here at Roseholme Cottage today was no joke: genuine Surry Sausage (well-smoked, though it wanted cooked) and fried free-range eggs. Yum! Easily the best smoked sausage I have had.
The Problem With Captains
3 weeks ago