Fun – Page 3 – A Honey of an Anklet

Fold

Via wood s lot, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Proofreader,” by Donna Levine Gershon.

Happy holidays

Handel’s ditty gets the “Subterranean Homesick Blues” treatment by the fifth grade class of Kuinerrarmiut Elitnaurviat school in Quinhagak, Alaska, and it’s adorable.

(I agree with Bas Bleu to overlook the greengrocer’s apostrophes.)

What’s that you’re calling obsolete?

I once used a line printer that I swear was playing the bass line to the Smithereens’ “Blood and Roses,” but it is no match for BD594’s collection of instruments. Kasia Cieplak-Mayr von Baldegg tees up this version of the Animals’ “House of the Rising Sun.”

Palette cleanser

Via DCist, The average color of the Washington D.C. sky, updated every 5 minutes.

I don’t remember any pirates

Via Leta, Rudbeckia Hirta summarizes Atlas Shrugged. If I’d had this precis to read back when I was in high school, I could have spent that week reading sexy science fiction instead.

People alternate between speechifying at each other with Tea Party rhetoric and then having sex because everyone would stop reading if it was just the Tea Party stuff.

Potustoronnost?

Via Bookslut, a story from the Onion with steak to go with the sizzle of the headline (and byline, in this case): “Hey, Man, I Totally Get It; I’d Watch A 2-Hour ‘Biggest Loser’ Special, Too,” by A Collection of Nabokov’s Short Stories. Guess who just added something to his book shopping list.

Touched to work with me in sincerity

RE: Your Cosmic Assistance Most Urgently Needed, by Zachary Martin.

I want you and I to make a fortune out of a situation that I am obviously left with no better option. The issue I am presenting is that my sun was recently destroyed in a supernova that obliterated most life on my planet…

Some quizzes: 2

With just a little guessing, I scored a semi-respectable 18 of 25 on the 10-minute drop-the-needle challenge to identify jazz classics. Which means I missed some really easy ones. But I’m not man enough to take the full 111-song challenge.

(Link, and a hint, via A Blog Supreme.)

Who is John Galt?

Eric Hague introduces Objectivism to the play lot.

By so much as allowing Johanna to share her toy with him, we’d be undermining her appreciation of one of life’s most important lessons: You should never feel guilty about your abilities. Including your ability to repeatedly peg a fellow toddler with your Elmo ball as he sobs for mercy.

[Arthur] Miller is quick to point out that it wasn’t always this way, and when the conversation turns to his early days, he becomes nostalgic. You should have seen me when I was writing Death of a Salesman. I had pecs the size of Iroquois saddlebags and my glutes were so rock-hard I could have sat on Joe McCarthy’s head and popped it like a rotten beet.’