*Moving on to somewhat more tasteful humor, yesterday Perplexa pointed me to the Pop-Song Correspondences on McSweeney's. All quite funny, but the best is Marvin Explains What He Heard Through the Grapevine:
You are surprised, I bet, because you didn't think I knew about your plans to break up with me. How, you're thinking, did Marvin learn of my plans to make him blue?
I'll tell you how: I talked to the grapes.
*Speaking of Perplexa and pop songs, there's this great new band that practically no one is talking about! If Perplexa says it's good, I tend to take her word for it, and The Boy Least Likely To is no exception. The artwork, song titles, and instrumentation are reminiscent of grade school music class in an unironic way, and this, juxtaposed with the simple but philosophical lyrics just makes it so, um, cool. If you want a real review, check out Pitchfork, or just stream the songs on their website and buy away. It's such a refreshing break from all the sound-a-like indie rock bands who rely more on haircuts than musical talent.
*Moms are crazy. Let's just accept that as a universal truth. Now, while certain friends' moms consistently criticize their eating habits, ask why they go to bars with friends instead of the opera, or send them mattress rotating timelines, my mom prefers to exhibit her craziness in more subtle ways. We talk maybe two or three times a month, and our conversations are pretty much limited to how I'm doing ("fine") and what kind of home improvements or gardening projects she's working on. So imagine my surprise when I woke up from a five hour nap last night and received the following email:
something to think about
Based on your family history, if you continue to smoke, you are putting yourself at very high risk of developing cancer and/or cardiovascular diseases. Please take good care of yourself! Love, Mom
To clarify, I know that my mom saw some pictures of me holding a cig several years ago (oops,) but she has never, ever mentioned or questioned my smoking. My sister is at home on parent patrol and is as baffled by her timing as I am. And now, I leave you with the best thing my mom has ever said. On the ride home from the airport on my latest trip home, she tells me about the state of the produce in her garden:
And the tomatoes are coming on like gang-busters!
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