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Words, words, words. Here’s something neat: A.Word.A.Day, a website and listserv giving out a word a day. Today’s word: — Canossa (kuh-NOS-uh, Italian: kah-NOS-sah) noun A place of humiliation or penance. Mostly used in the form “go to Canossa”: to humble or humiliate oneself, to eat humble pie. [From the name of a castle in […]

Celebration! The new issue of

So far today, with the Review of a Restaurant. I like Colorado. I probably won’t be able to put a finger on it until I go somewhere else, either on a long trip, or I move. At a first guess, here’s a rambling anecdote: The first time I went to Wisconsin as an adult (we’d

Diary of…Gregory Price. I didn’t like the name anymore. Thursday: Stopped at a coffee shop. The milk in the carafe was bad, but the attendant refused to replace it. Apparantly, people had been complaining about it all day, and she was tired of being the butt of such a poor practical joke. Friday: Replaced the

Hot and Cold Running Errands. Yep. That’s it. That’s what we did today. It was actually kind of enjoyable. Hm. Let me look at that sentence. There’s just so much wrong with it. Why does it sound so comfortable to the ear, and yet so awkward to the eye? Remove “it,” “that,” “is,” “was,” and

Daddy. Yesterday, Ray sat in the rocking chair, looked at me, and chirped: “Hi, Daddy!”

Diary of Edgar Pierce. A little experiment. Thursday: Ate squid at insistence of sister. Friday: Or quite possibly octopus. Saturday: The texture was rubbery, although not quite as rubbery as rubber itself. Obsession with cephalopodic meal continues. Sunday: Am being followed by strange presences dressed in trench coats and fedoras. The aroma of the sea.

Once upon a time… There’s stuff I want to talk about that I don’t want to talk about. Car situation, worries about Banshee Studios, the ever-present financial woes, the near-maddening internal debate about what to plant in the front yard come spring, stuff. Just stuff. So here’s me, just writing. Uh, don’t read this if

Ooh. Geeks of the world, gawk: Invisibility…uh…windbreaker. Of doom. Via Jon, purveyor of cool stuff.

Escapism. Today, thinking of Doyce and his dickweed po’lice officer, I renewed the tags on the car. I had to go back in to work for a meeting today at two; I decided to leave early just to finish up a few things before I had to go. Put the tags on the car. Stopped