‘Tis the Season… December 7, 2008
Just splurged on the bambo
o interchangeable needle set I’ve been eying for the past few years. (www.knitnewyork.com) Perfect gift for any knitters on your list. No more searching for the right needle size/length! Every size you will ever need in one charmingly cute package! Worth the $99 investment because you’ll never have to buy another needle again. And it’s just so damned cute. Knit NY is on 14th St. & 2nd Ave in Manhattan. Any knitter would love a gift certificate from here (hint, hint). My favorite yarn is the chunky alpaca in the back room.
Gorgeous colors and soooo soft! I’ve knitted many a scarf with this yarn. Happy knitting to all.
A Public Service Announcement… December 6, 2008
(I would cite the source, but I know it not. Thank you, whomever you are!)
NINE WORDS WOMEN USE
(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right
and you need to shut up.
(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five
minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes
to watch the game before helping around the house.
(3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and
you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in
fine.
(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don’t Do It!
(5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often
misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and
wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about
nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)
(6) That’s Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can
make to a man. That’s okay means she wants to think long and hard before
deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
(7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say
you’re welcome. (I want to add in a clause here – This is true, unless she
says ‘Thanks a lot’ – that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at
all. DO NOT say ‘you’re welcome.’ That will bring on a ‘whatever’).
(8) Whatever: Is a woman’s way of saying F— YOU!
(9) Don’t worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning
this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is
now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking ‘What’s wrong?’
For the woman’s response refer to # 3.
* Send this to the men you know, to warn them about arguments they can avoid
if they remember the terminology.
* Send this to all the women you know to give them a good laugh, ’cause they
know it’s true!!!
The Best Pick Up Line Ever December 5, 2008
So he says, “Do you read Yeats?”
I say, “Sure.”
He says, “Are you familiar with the poem ‘For Anne Gregory’ which is about the down side of being a blond?”
I say, “No. No I am not familiar with that.”
He says, “Would you like to hear it?”
Now, at this point in my life, there is only one other person who has ever recited a poem for me, someone I hold very dear, and it was also Yeats, and this one other person is about 50 years younger than the fellow sitting at the table next to me at the Comfort Diner today, and in fact I had just days prior discussed Yeats with this other much younger reciter, though the recitation itself was years ago. It should also be mentioned that our involvement with the table next to us was entirely predicated on the appeal of Nita’s stripy socks, and that we had skipped directly from socks to Yeats without actually introducing ourselves.
I say, “Yes!”
And here I have to lean in a bit, because this fellow is 80 and hard of hearing & the diner is very, very noisy.
And so:
FOR ANNE GREGORY
(author W.B. Yeats, as recited by Mr. Bill at Comfort Diner on 23rd Street around 1:30pm this afternoon, and which recitation involves, by necessity, a leaning in toward each other of both the reciter and the listener, and, not by necessity, upon the fourth line, said reciter reaching across to touch a lock of said listener’s admittedly blond hair, for emphasis of course.)
‘Never shall a young man,
Thrown into despair
By those great honey-coloured
Ramparts at your ear,
Love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair.’
‘But I can get hair-dye
And set such colour there,
Brown, or black, or carrot,
That young men in despair
May love me for myself alone
And not my yellow hair.’
‘I heard an old religious man
But yesternight declare
That he had found a text to prove
That only God, my dear,
Could love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair.’
Oh, Mr. Bill. You smooth talker, you. Your wife’s a lucky gal indeed.
