~~~Lara Zielin~~~

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: Continuing the “TWILIGHT sucks, X is better,” equation, please solve for X using Buffy and this video.

My friend Sarah sent me this news story from the Seattle Times, which had donuts (or at least donut glaze) making the headlines, and I’ve pasted it below. But I recommend going to the live site because maybe funnier than the story itself are some of the comments. Here’s the text:

Doughnut glaze leaking from tanker truck

A tanker truck loaded with doughnut glaze lost control and rolled over on Pacific Highway South this afternoon, oozing sugary syrup into a nearby culvert.

By Lynn Thompson

Times Snohomish County reporter

A tanker truck loaded with doughnut glaze lost control and rolled over on Pacific Highway South this afternoon, oozing sugary syrup into a nearby culvert.

A Washington State Patrol spokeswoman said the truck overturned along southbound Pacific Highway South at South Kent Des Moines Road at 4:17 p.m.

Only minor injuries were reported and the truck driver declined transport by ambulance.

The State Department of Transportation was called to help clean up the leaking doughnut glaze.

####

So, I’m knee-deep in Carrie Jones’ book NEED and I’m totally digging it. Some of the reviews on Amazon.com and other places have likened NEED to TWILIGHT but I beg to differ. Reason number one being that TWILIGHT sucked and NEED rules. I know, I know, I’m in the minority here about the book-slash-movie phenomenon that has people acting like this. But really — when you read a suspenseful thriller like NEED, you realize what TWILIGHT should have had: a strong female protagonist, humor, and a bona fide mystery to solve (a.k.a. more plot than just swooning over Edward.)

Fortunately, a friend sent me this website, “Secrets of the Sparkle,” which is what would happen if the Soup met literary criticism. No wait, maybe this is funner. It’s about the hidden “meaning” in TWILIGHT, which really isn’t hidden at all. The site’s kinda old, I guess, but I’d never seen it before and it had me about peeing my pants. So give it a look. Then go read NEED.

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: Rob found this one about bionic penguins. Really. It might be funny if it wasn’t so … take-over-the-world-y.

So, on Thursday, my favorite mug in the entire world broke. It had donuts on it and it featured in both YouTube videos Rob and I made recently. Stupidly, I left it in the back of my car, where it rolled to the far side and when I pulled the door open, it fell out and shattered.

I have been searching in vain for a new replacement, but the only thing I’ve found that’s come close is this little ditty. It’s the same shape, the same colors, and if it only had a donut on it instead of a cupcake, we’d be golden.

If anyone comes across a donut mug like this one, please let me know. Or buy it and I’ll pay you back. I really miss my little ceramic pal.

What will I do to celebrate National Donut Day this Friday, June 5?

Maybe a better question is, what won’t I do …

FAVE LINKEY-POO RIGHT THIS SECOND: The history of National Donut Day (this Friday, people!) explained here.

So, one time my garbage was stolen. This was a couple years ago now, when Rob and I lived in our old house. I awoke to strange sounds in the middle of the night. The next day, I realized someone had made off with the trash.

Yes, the trash.

I’d like to think they stole it because even the scraps I throw away are stained with fabulous. But in my heart of hearts, I know this is not true. At the time I thought it was probably identity-theft related. Which, I still think that’s probably what it was. In my frantic “my credit card statements will now be viewed by someone else” state, I phoned the police.

I know. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight. Or at all.

The conversation went something like this.

Me: Yes, I’d like to report a theft.

Dispatcher: From what location?

Me: [gives address]

Dispatcher: And what was taken?

Me: Our garbage.

Dispatcher: Excuse me?

Me: Our garbage was stolen. I think because they wanted to steal our identities.

Dispatcher: I see. Was there anything in there that you wanted, particularly?

Me: No, not really.

Dispatcher: Do you want it back?

Me: Um, no. I guess not.

Dispatcher: What would you like us to do, ma’am?

Me: Er, nothing. Sorry to bother you.

[call ends.]

I would have liked the story to have ended there, but shortly thereafter, they sent a squad car to our house.  Yep. Even though I told them not to come, the cop car pulled into our driveway.  I explained the situation to the police officer, who was nice. He wasn’t a problem. The problem was that our neighbors saw the cop car arrive.

And they were all like, what’s up?

And then I had to tell them I’d reported our garbage being stolen.

Let me tell you, I didn’t live that one down anytime soon.

The moral of the story is that if your trash gets stolen, do not call the police. Let it go. And shred more in the future.

The end.