It's a lovely Saturday afternoon here, but it's windy and will be quite chilly tomorrow -- only in the upper 50s to around 60, after days and days in the upper 70s and 80s. My allergies are acting up a little more today but so far it's not intolerable. Here are a few unrelated observations...
- This may be proof that Twitter has jumped the shark: a new, badly named feature -- "Who's That Tweeter?" -- on Fox's baseball telecast. They display someone's tweet and then you're supposed to go to their website and choose which of four players made that tweet. There may be a contest involved. I don't care. I'm waiting for the day someone mispronounces "tweet" and has to apologize for an obscenity.
- Speaking of Twitter, here in Philadelphia "windy" is a trending topic right now.
- Three songs have been stuck in my head today at various times (one of which I tweeted about earlier) -- RuPaul's "Jealous Of My Boogie" (because of Freddy and Andrew from my softball team discussing it when we were at the batting cages earlier), Ke$ha's "Tik Tok" (because when I was reading the new Entertainment Weekly their "Bullseye" page mentioned the Simpsons' homage to it at the start of last week's show) and Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" (again because of EW, which provided the shocking news that she's collaborated on a song called "Murder My Heart" with
none other than Michael Bolton -- listen to the less-than-sterling-quality audio of it here). I expect -- no, demand -- someone like DJ Earworm to come up with a mashup of these three songs called "Jealous of My Bad Tik Tok." Upon hearing it I will either dance for joy or look for an icepick for my eardrums.
- When I first typed "stuck" in the first sentence above I missed the "t," leaving only "suck" -- although Ke$ha is the only artist to whom that word would apply, it made me wonder: do Freudian slips occur when typing?
- Check out the misspelling on this cake of the name of Atlanta Braves manager Bobby Cox, retiring at the end of this season and being honored by U.S. Senators on Capitol Hill earlier this week. Priceless! Almost as priceless is how a few articles I've seen avoid saying exactly what the misspelling was. They dance around it and all but spell it out, but can't bring themselves to use the word "cocks." I mean, really!
- And since we're all stimulated now, here's a photo I found of a tennis player named Robby Ginepri.
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