I am so awesome, I bowled my best game ever last night. An 88. And I had some help from the machinery, which ignored at least three of my turns and let me go again for the only strikes and spares I got. I was on track to break 100 in the next game, too, but we ran out of time and had to stop.

I think I’ve figured out how to do it, though: the trick is to grab a super-lightweight girly ball with an animal etched on it, and kick my right foot high above my back as I fling the ball outwards. Then I gracefully return to a standing position via a nice Standing Bow (hoping the bowling shoes have enough traction to keep me upright) and curse. Works every time, except when it doesn’t.

There’s some new stuff in the photoblog.

I’ve been short on stimulus lately; I’ve been short on stimulus-seeking. I know what’s going to happen to me next month. School will start, and physics will stream from my every orifice in great torrents. I’m saving up a stock of boredom. Here’s a recipe.

Lentil Barley Glop

1 cup lentils
1 cup pearled barley
1 onion, 3-4 celery stalks, 1 green pepper, 2-3 roma tomatoes (they’re cheaper and tastier than the beefsteak kind), other random vegetables that were on sale or going bad
seasonings to taste - the obvious choice would be chili powder, but I’m a big chili wuss so I use 1-2 cloves garlic, 1/4 cup fresh parsley and cilantro, a bay leaf, a big pinch of coriander and a small pinch of cloves. And salt and pepper of course.

Soak and rinse the lentils. Put ‘em in a pot with barley and about 4 cups of water; boil. As the water boils, chop up the vegetables and add them to the pot. Let everything simmer until done. Very cheap, lasts forever, it’s reasonably tasty and it goes well on toast. The barley, when cooked, is about the same size as the lentils and for some reason I really like the texture this produces.

Possibly the coolest thing to happen this year: Earth got a new moon - or else it’s just another piece of space garbage, the astronomers haven’t reached a consensus yet. This moon, unlike the disgustipating “second moon” Cruithne, apparently has a proper orbity-shaped orbit, too. Hurrah!

(Cruithne enjoys a “special relationship” with the Earth - the kind of special relationship it can’t tell its mother about - sharing our orbit around the sun in a freaky 1:1 resonance pattern. To validate this relationship by calling Cruithne a proper moon would destroy the very moral fiber of society. I’m sure the Bible is against it, too.)

Hahaha! I won! Take that, santioveg44!

Of course, a $600 camera (with minor quirks and blemishes) for $250 still costs me $250. I will eat nothing but beans for the rest of the year, but I will take great pictures of them. Beautiful, beautiful beans. Mmm.

Last night I started hunting for new cameras, and I dreamed that I woke up and I had won three auctions, one for a camera, and two for horrible expensive pieces of schlock. It was terrifying in the way nightmares are. Damn you, ebay!

Someone writes in from an IP address in Ohio:

i like oceans

So what on earth are you doing in Toledo? You obviously don’t like oceans as much as, say, the heroine of Blue Crush, who is willing to give up everything for the life of a hardcore surfer chick. Or something like that, I haven’t actually seen the movie. Regardless, it’s probably a good model for your new life, Toledo, you just need more discipline to acheive it.

It’s humid up here. Bad desert. No cookie.

See? That’s discipline! Deserts love cookies. However, there’s a problem: it’s not humid. My nose isn’t full of crusty bloody boogers and my lips aren’t cracking to hell, so it’s not bone-dry either—but real humidity doesn’t start until your sweat no longer evaporates. My sweat is definitely evaporating, right off my skin, just like it’s supposed to. If you’re not careful, Mr. Tough Love, your little desert will grow up to be an angry, neurotic bundle of self-hatred, and then where will you be?

Zilla Zilla. It’s Zilla a Zilla, Zilla, you’ll love it. But not as smurfing intelligible as the WebSmurfer.

SmurfZilla! Yar!

America is hated, world-wide, because we have superior bloggers, and they know it. They can’t stand the fact that our opinions are sharper and better-informed. After all, our ability to express opinions without the intrusive filter of editors and fact-checkers is what made this country great.

Neal Pollack has a blog. Brilliant.

The owner of the air conditioner came to take it back today. I have no more air conditioner. Would anyone care to trade their first bite of fall for highs in the 90s to around 104? Please? It’s mostly a dry heat, really, you’ll love it. As long as you’re not sensitive to ozone.

Meanwhile, why doesn’t anyone design a weight-lifting machine that won’t squish the user’s breasts? I would like to become buff without having to constantly reposition my boobs under, around or on top of the ergonomic safety cushions. Thank you.

Oh ho ho, I just crack myself up with my clever titles! The speech in question, you see, is E-Prime, a novel form of English without the verb “to be”. Using E-Prime makes for good writing, but the discipline has attracted more than its fair share of evangelical acid heads, who claim that using “to be” moves one’s worldview into a harsh Aristotelian regime. Thus the clever pun on Edward Sapir. I am so smart, S-M-R-T.

Anyway, check out the comment thread on The Naked Tiny discussing whether or not E-Prime and queer theory should have a fight. I don’t have much to add to the discussion, aside from pointless E-Prime bashing… but it’s an interesting question nonetheless, and a fight I’d like to see.