Toilets R Us
by Steve West on October 10, 2007
I got a thing for cool looking toilets. What can I say? I'd like most of these to be in Barbie's Dream House except for that face-to-face absurdity. Who thought that was a good idea? And I am not using that hand lotion!!! That last shot I swore I saw the last time I was at Robert Mapplethorpe's house.
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
I'll Have The Misogyny Au Gratin, Please
We were having dinner with my nephew the other night and the conversation steered toward his numerous relationships. He replied with that standard chauvinistic response, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?" My wife looked at him directly and retorted, "Yeah, why buy the whole pig for just a little sausage?" Go »There Really Are Superheroes
And most of them wear capes. Oddee does a nice roundup of ten real-life superheroes - people who actually dress up in costume and prowl their respective cities with a willingness to foil criminals and their crimes. While you may question their sartorial wisdom, you gotta admire their desire to make a difference. Go »My Faith in Humanity is Restored
This is a true story I saw on a travel blog website. Late one night, a woman and her husband received the tragic news that their three-year-old grandson in Denver had been murdered by their daughter’s live-in boyfriend. The boy was being taken off life support at 9 o’clock that evening and his parents opted for organ donation which would take place immediately upon his passing. Go »My Favorite Memory
Yesterday, we held the memorial service for my father-in-law. There were approximately 100 people attending and afterward about 1/3 gathered at his home for a small meal and sharing remembrances. I chose to share my memory of the time, twenty years ago, when I asked him for his blessing for my planned proposal to Brenda, his eldest daughter. Go »Christmas and a Lizard's Tale
One Christmas when Lauren was eight, like a lot of girls her age, wished for a pony. My backyard at the time was about the size of a Volkswagen Minibus. Despite her assurances that she would let it roam the neighborhood for sufficient exercise, I said, “Not this year,” as I pictured myself following the horse with a pooper scooper. Go »
