Got a passel of deadlines that are all hitting tomorrow, and an interview that I'm actually conducting in person (really looking forward to that; the interviewee is great), so Monday morning isn't going to be very conducive to blogging. Hence the late hour, which I hope doesn't interfere with the usual stellar, life-changing quality 30-of my posts. (Snort.)
Last week, over on TOB (The Other Blog), I mentioned Jack Palance, who before he was Jack was Walter Palance. A loyal reader pointed out that originally, he was Volodymyr Palahniuk, which, if Americans could pronounce, would be an even better tough guy name. But Jack/Walter/Volodymyr had another, more introspective, musical side, a side that you can hear here, ya' hear? If the thought of Jack Palance singing, kinda, "The Green, Green Grass of Home" and "My Elusive Dreams" doesn't make you click, you have no soul.
In other news, I Twittered that my Facebook was now blogging emails to my Myspace, then taking pictures and posting it to Flickr, and I think I broke the Internets. Sorry.
Had an ox in the ditch today, biblically speaking, so I spent darn near all the day in front of this keyboard. Finished one article, after much mailing and mashing of teeth. (It's no typo. I send a lot of emails and I take my thumb and push on my upper incisors when I'm nervous.) The only problem is that the article dealt with Carolina cuisine, and now I'm craving she-crab soup and a dessert from Kaminsky's in Charleston. Or a red velvet cake with cream cheese icing from Kudzu Bakery in Georgetown.
New favorite activity: Not shaving for a day or two, and then tickling Jacob's feet with my whiskers. He wails with glee. He's also figured out that he can grab hold of the dogs' hair if he pretends to not be interested, then fires out his hand like a cobra. A little, cute, smooth-skinned cobra, but a cobra, nonetheless. It's like he's the snake, and he's surrounded by three mongooses. Mongeese. However you say it. Do I look like a mongooseologist?
Still working on branding myself. I'm gonna make this thing work, I tells you. What I don't tells you is that sometimes, it's hard to keep this branding thing from looking as ill-advised an adventure as a Jonas Brothers klezmer album. But I'm still in there plugging, picking up the lunchbox of hope and clocking in at the foundry of the future to stamp out the galvanized sloth of ennui. Or something. It's late.
As always, you can follow me on Twitter, and check out my other blog, where you can even drop a tuppence or farthing or drachma in the tip jar. I'll appreciate all three.
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