Dance, Bakerina, dance

Today was blissfully free of attacks by either eagles or my sinuses. This is the good news; in the bad news department, I got nuthin’ for ya tonight. Actually, that should be in the “may or may not be bad news, depending” department.

Hey, go over and read The Bakerina instead. She writes better than I do, she bakes much better than I do (which is not all that difficult, according to several of my former employers), and she’s got very good taste in music*.

*I’m willing to overlook her devotion to The Cure, a band whose charms, such as they are, have always been lost on me. Science Girl digs ‘em too, so perhaps I’m missing something. The music’s fine, I guess; Bob Smith is a pretty decent guitarist, after all. As a singer, though… frankly, his voice suggests the sound a queasy ferret might make while being shoved through a funnel. That's just me, though.

On the other hand, anyone clever enough to give Garnet Mimms a shout-out gets a free pass.

Comments

[Bakerina]

Oh, my stars. Thank you, sir. :) But surely, you underestimate your writing -- *I* think it's fine, funny and swell. I also think you overstate my skills, but heck, I won't talk you out of it. :)

Science Girl is right on the Cure, you know. Actually, even if I didn't like them so much, I would still give Robert Smith points for appearing in the Mecha Streisand episode of South Park. Anyone who can defeat Barbra Streisand and rochambeau Cartman is my kind of guy.

Thanks again for such nice words. Do keep visiting. My husband grew up in Tacoma and lived on Queen Anne Hill as an adult, so I know he'll be glad to hear that I've made friends from the old nabe. :)

[bmarkey]

Damn, I forgot about the South Park thing. OK, I'll give him that much. His singing still sounds like small mammal torture, though.

:p