All this talk about iTunes has me thinking about getting an MP3 player. I hate buying CDs since there is usually a couple of songs I really want and the price! So, I went on eBay and boy o boy I got confused. I was wondering if you or your lovely readers have any opinion on iPod vs. cheaper MP3 players. Is the iPod worth the extra money because of better sound or durability? Anyone who has a different, cheaper MP3 player – any suggestions as to brand thats worked out for you?
Feel free to leave a comment on the subject!
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I am currently reading
Case Histories, by Kate Atkinson, and liking it a lot. I was worried that I wouldn’t enjoy it all that much because the entire reason I bought it is that I saw it in the store, picked it up to look at it, and saw that there was a blurb on the front from Stephen King, who said that it’s the best book not of the month, not of the year, but of the entire decade.
That’s an awful lot for a little book to live up to.
And I’ve found over the years that books that Stephen King really likes, I’ll buy at his recommendation (not that he’s calling me up and saying “Robyn! OMG! You’ve GOTTA read this book, it’s amazing! LOL!” you understand, just that I’ve read his recommendation somewhere and decided to buy the book solely because of that) and read and when I’m done I’ll think “What the hell was he going on about? It wasn’t that great…” But I continue to buy the books he recommends because I’m helpless not to (it’s a sickness, I think. I’m a book hoarder! Just ask
Nance!) even though I’ve come to realize that just because I like – even LOVE – a writer’s work, I’m not necessarily going to like the same books he or she likes.
Jennifer Weiner loved
Mrs. Kimble a few years ago, so I bought it and read it, and was kind of like “Yeah, it was okayyyy, but nothing to rave about.” But I can guarantee that next time she talks about how good a book was, I’ll be adding it to my wish list as fast as I can click over to Amazon.
Anyway – I’m liking
Case Histories, though it took me a while to get into it.
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On my way into Huntsville last week for my thyroid uptake scan (which, as you may recall from yesterday’s entry, will probably lead to having my entire neck removed. MY ENTIRE NECK.), I passed a vet clinic on Governor’s Drive. On the sign outside, it said “Ticks and fleas can spread disease. We do laser surgery.”
And I marveled at the idea that there is now apparently a laser surgery that vets can do that will take care of ticks and fleas. I wondered whether it just kills the ticks and fleas that a pet has on its person, or if it would repel ticks and fleas for a period of time, or how exactly did that work?
They can do the most amazing things these days, can’t they?
And then when I was having my thyroid uptake scan done, it dawned on me that the “Ticks and fleas can spread disease” and the “We do laser surgery” were probably unrelated to one another.
D’oh!
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On the way to… somewhere. At some point. Probably in the past, I’m guessing. I don’t know, I’m fast on my way to elderly and can’t remember when or where or how it was that I was driving down the highway, but I was. Driving down the highway. On my way to somewhere important, I’m sure.
Anyway, in front of me was a big dump truck, and there was a huge sign on the back of the dump part exhorting me to stay a certain distance away from the dump truck because (I assume) when it’s loaded full of crap, something might fall out of the back part and hit my windshield and break it, and shards of glass might fly into my eyes and blind me, and I might spin out of control and fly over the embankment (there’s always an embankment in the most convenient places, isn’t there?), so I might just want to stay back a bit, mmmkay?
So I stayed back far enough that I felt safe that anything flying out the back of the dump truck would just drop in front of me rather than hit my windshield (but after it hit the road in front of me, it’d crush the front of my car when I hit it, causing me to come to a sudden stop, causing my seatbelt to tighten, causing my windpipe to be crushed, causing instantaneous death, but hey. Better to die instantly than to be blind, behind the wheel of a car, headed for an embankment you can’t see but can sense is there, right?). And the dump truck was going straight and I was taking an exit and I took one last wary glance at the dump truck and saw that it had a bumper sticker that said “We are
NOT responsible for broken windshields.”
Oh REALLY? Is that how it works? Because you have the bumper sticker disavowing all responsibility for the broken windshield, you therefore are NOT responsible? So if you sloppily loaded big concrete chunks into your dump truck and drove too fast and hit a bump and a concrete chunk flew out of the back of your dump truck and hit my windshield, thereby breaking it, and I took you to court to get the money to have my windshield fixed (and the brown stain removed from my seat), all your lawyer would have to do is say “Your Honor, I’d like to produce Exhibit A, a picture of the back of the dump truck. As you can see, the bumper sticker CLEARLY states that Bob Driver is NOT responsible for broken windshields!” and the judge would bang his gavel and say “Case dismissed!”?
I had no idea before now that bumper stickers are legal documents. Think of the fun you can have! I think I’ll get me a bumper sticker that says “You are legally required to pull over and hand over your keys, sign over your registration to me, and give me $500 in cash”, then position myself in front of a Porsche.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
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Sugarbutt watches Spot and Tommy finish off the nightly snack.
Such a pretty boy.
“When I thinks about how much I hates you, it makes me make this face. It hurts, how much I hates you. PHYSICALLY PAINFUL.”
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
here.
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Previously
2005: Perhaps I’ll make it my New Year’s Resolution to not fill my house with crap in 2006.
2004: Ever had one of those days when you just can’t remember the name of anything?
2003: No entry.
2002: I keep wanting to use the phrase “Sweet crappin’ Jesus!”, and just haven’t determined the right moment to do so. Maybe in the middle of sex?
2001: Her name is Brady James.
2000: If I knew whodunnit, I’d beat that $300 right out of his ass, the little bastard.
1999: They all tend to sound alike, you see, and hearing basically the same sound over and over ain’t the thrill at 31 that it is at 11.]]>