Destroy the whore-crux!

One of those things that was never really a blip on my radar is the “Mr. and Mrs. {guy’s first name} {guy’s last name}” nomenclature. Kim keeping her name/business-name made me acutely aware of it. I do not know if it is traditionalism and/or implied sexism/girl-as-property-of-guy, but it is still a (fairly new) pet peeve of mine. I got a letter from the financial planners today that was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Brian Enigma, and I could feel my blood start to boil (quickly solved by a few deep breaths, fortunately.) We’ve even talked about it with them. They should know better!

Earlier this evening, I finally made it to the Epilogue of the new Hairy Potty book. I was instantly transmogrified into a blubbering idiot.

Edited to add: also, the A+ #1 way to look completely mental is to walk around an urban city environment, listening to your iPhone-as-MP3-player with it’s bundled earphones, and then have a call come in. The answer-button and microphone is this low-profile thing built into the cable. It doesn’t look like the typical cellphone wired-ear-thing that only goes in one ear and has a big clunky shirt-clip thing (with your finger in the other ear to block out the street noise.) It just looks like you’re listening to an iPod, only having (half of) a conversation with someone who is obviously not there.

Posted in: Books Dear Diary iPhone

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