Send in the clowns

First, they came for the clowns.

Even the President of the United States must stand naked

I can't think of a more useless but strangely satisfying use of about five seconds of my time than slapping celebrity British DJs.

Drinking Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee

Ma Bim is coming to visit this weekend. She asked me what she should bring to wear to K's 6th birthday party. So a conversation about what to wear turned into a conversation of the most appropriate wear based upon what one was drinking, which morphed into a walk down Liquid Lane circa 1958:

"At Sweet Briar [College in Virginia] I learned to like beer and preferred scotch. I wore skirts for most dates, or Bermuda shorts, which could be no more than three inches above my knees to comply with the dress code. I didn't own a pair of jeans. The college allowed us students to drink only 3.2 beer, and only off campus. I drank scotch on weekends at U. Va, at fraternity houses. It was BYOB. For my Sophomore year my usual date had rich parents and we drank good scotch.

[While at Tulane] I drank a variety of things in New Orleans with the French Quarter so handy. It also depended on who I was with and their financial situation. I especially liked one medical student with whom I drank mostly beer. I remember liking Singapore Slings, Moscow Mules, Pousse cafes, and an occasional Hurricane at Pat O'Brians. EitherTom Collins or gin and tonics, I forgot which, were $ 1 at "Breakfast at Brennan's". I drank beer at the Napolean House."

Find a levee and burn it down

I'm doing a market study for a small town in Minnesota and need assistance on some technical details. Maybe Jim Kramer has some to time to share to help me with his knowledge.