![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calimac1. Yesterday morning I removed the previously-sorted boxes of shreddable paper - old financial records and such - from my mother's storage locker. Pleasingly, they all fit into the back of my little car with the hatchback and the fold-downable rear seat. I was not thinking of taking them to the shredding service that day, since it's in a place called Cambrian Park, considerably far in the other direction, until I got home and found B. struggling with the filter of the vacuum cleaner. The Dyson is a fine cleaner, but it can be deucedly difficult to open the compartment to take the filter out to clean it. We've had trouble with it before, but this time I couldn't open it either, so I called Dyson and they said, just push the button until it clicks, but, of course, that's just what it wouldn't do. So then they said, your machine is still under warranty, so take it to the nearest authorized repair service ... and they gave me the address and it's in Cambrian Park.
So off I went to do both errands, and also to stop at a an outlet of a small local grocery chain in those parts which is the only retailer I know that sells what I call Southern Tamales. (I know of three good tamale vendors in these parts, all some distance from home, which I visit whenever I happen to be in those areas anyway, and I call them, from the directions they happen to be in, Eastern Tamales, Western Tamales, and Southern Tamales.) The repair shop guys, naturally enough, had no trouble at all opening up the vacuum cleaner, but they kept showing me how easy they claimed it was without letting me try it to see if I could do it too, which was very male behavior and very frustrating.
2. Speaking of male behavior, there was an uncannily wince-worthy phrasing in the gossip column of the paper this morning. The article begins: Quentin Tarantino has given hope to all funny-looking men on earth. Yes? What's he done? It continues: Well ... as long as they are innovative, ground-breaking, multimillionaire, A-list film directors. Yes, yes, I know who Tarantino is. So what's he done? Us Weekly reports that Tarantino has finally convinced Uma Thurman - To do what? - who famously starred in his films "Pulp Fiction" and the Kill Bill movies - Yes, yes, yes, I know who she is, too, and by now I'm getting a little annoyed at the almost Teutonic postponement of the verb - to be his woman.
To be what? Could you try to think of a slightly less retro way of putting it? I'm trying not to think of Tarantino pulling out the Porgy & Bess songbook and singing, "Uma, You Is My Woman Now," which is about the only respectable way of getting away with talking like that.
3. Also in the news: this is what happens when a good guy with a gun meets another good guy with a gun.
So off I went to do both errands, and also to stop at a an outlet of a small local grocery chain in those parts which is the only retailer I know that sells what I call Southern Tamales. (I know of three good tamale vendors in these parts, all some distance from home, which I visit whenever I happen to be in those areas anyway, and I call them, from the directions they happen to be in, Eastern Tamales, Western Tamales, and Southern Tamales.) The repair shop guys, naturally enough, had no trouble at all opening up the vacuum cleaner, but they kept showing me how easy they claimed it was without letting me try it to see if I could do it too, which was very male behavior and very frustrating.
2. Speaking of male behavior, there was an uncannily wince-worthy phrasing in the gossip column of the paper this morning. The article begins: Quentin Tarantino has given hope to all funny-looking men on earth. Yes? What's he done? It continues: Well ... as long as they are innovative, ground-breaking, multimillionaire, A-list film directors. Yes, yes, I know who Tarantino is. So what's he done? Us Weekly reports that Tarantino has finally convinced Uma Thurman - To do what? - who famously starred in his films "Pulp Fiction" and the Kill Bill movies - Yes, yes, yes, I know who she is, too, and by now I'm getting a little annoyed at the almost Teutonic postponement of the verb - to be his woman.
To be what? Could you try to think of a slightly less retro way of putting it? I'm trying not to think of Tarantino pulling out the Porgy & Bess songbook and singing, "Uma, You Is My Woman Now," which is about the only respectable way of getting away with talking like that.
3. Also in the news: this is what happens when a good guy with a gun meets another good guy with a gun.
