Okay, this is it. A real post. The first in three days. Let us begin with the news that everyone keeps asking about. The Reverend Dark Wombat. I talked to him on the phone early last evening and he wanted me to assure everyone that he is fine. A little freaked out, but fine. Gunma, the region of Japan that he lives in never receives the full brunt of earthquakes, but it was still big enough to move his fridge into the middle of the room and unearth things that he wasn’t sure he even owned. He wanted to congratulate all of you on officially being the friend of a person who experienced, first-hand, one of the seven largest earthquakes in all of recorded human history. It turns out that he was right in the middle of his yearly evaluation by the Ota school board when the quake happened. They acted as if nothing unusual was happening. They say a true samurai can still manage to kill his enemy in battle even if his head is cleaved from his body. Ah, the Japanese spirit of determination.

Anyway, he assured me that he was okay and that he was about to sit down and write Terry Pratchett a letter thanking the aforementioned author for one of his novels stopping the giant wooden bookcase from crushing his laptops. The computers survived, but the book “looks like someone tried to cut it in half with a broad sword”. So it goes.

He is supposed to be sending me photos and video of his earthquake experience to share with the world. I’ll post them as soon as they come in. Oh, they just came in. Behold the awesome consequences of the Unfathomable Spunk being unleashed on Japan:

You can clearly see the aforementioned severed book in photo three. Oh, and there’s a video. Yes, we’ve got a video!

Nice! If you get a chance to comment on his photos on the Facebook, you should do so. Hey, I just got a note from one of the Wombat family saying that that video somehow made its way to our local news station and they will be showing it on air as well as interviewing the Rev via Skype. Our man on the scene.

(insert terrible segue skills here)

Since I didn’t get a chance to post it yesterday, my new article is up on the City Wire. If you want to read it, click here: Ribs. If you don’t want to read it, click here: Thighs.

In other news, Teacher Sis, Prince Jazzbo, and I are about to head down to our old hometown to see our Nanny, who has decided, against her will, to get really sick.

On a slightly less sad note, I totally rocked my microbiology lab mid-term exam. That gives me a “B” in the class so far. I think. I can’t tell for sure because the university website has decided to tell me that I don’t have permission to do anything.

In case you wanted to set off the smoke detectors in your house by cooking a rib eye in the oven, now you can thanks to Alton Brown! I did last night and it was loud and delicious.

Le Duke got this in the mail yesterday and my head lit on fire:

I still can’t wrap my head around it. I spent all day yesterday trying to readjust to my late start. It felt like someone picked me up out of the space/time continuum and set me ahead about two hours. It was most weird. I got to round out my bizzaro time traveling day by eating a French Dip at Ed Walker’s and reteaching La Duchess how to use WordPress. Awesome.

Also, in case you were losing sleep about this, and I know some of you were, me and Big D sorted my tax issues out. It turns out that we totally forgot to go back and take my business deductions out for my writing gig. Silly us. So, my taxes went from me paying a whole crap load, to me paying a little bit of a crap load. Them’s the breaks when you are as rich and handsome as I am.

If you haven’t checked out Sweetbread’s newest post about livin’, you should. It’s pretty excellent. Also, be sure to read his newest poem. It some how made me proud and, at the same time, freaked out to be referenced in a poem about my friend having sex for the first time. Right.

And last but, not least, I saw this video the other day and it managed to combine almost all of my favorite things. It somehow meshed Stephen Fry, a ukulele player, a sappy love song, and clever allusions to having the sex. Now that I’ve hyped it way up, I should at least show it to you. So, here goes:

Pretty sweet, right? Well, I don’t care if you liked it. It made me happy and that’s all that matters. If you did like it, be sure to check Ms. Molly Lewis’s YouTube page.

Now that I’ve rambled on and overloaded your brains with photos, videos, and links, I’m off to see my ill Grandmother. She’s got a license you know. A License to Ill and she knows the Time with her fresh Gucci watch. More soon. ~SC