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by Christopher Mudiappahpillai

Just smatterings really.

Jello Pudding Snacks
So yesterday, I was rooting through a kitchen cupboard looking for a snack and found a couple of those Jello puddings that come in little plastic containers. Chocolate ones. I ate one, and it was good.

The only problem is, we haven’t bought them in at least six months. And it was good. That’s not good.

But it’s still so good.

Dramatis Personae
“Bones” does it surprisingly well.

And I’m seriously crushing on Emily Deschanel. And Zooey. It’s the eyes, I tell you. Those big eyes.

And while we’re on the topic, Marguerite Moreau as well.

Printing
Blacks, please stop colour correcting my prints. They’re supposed to be like that. I should go elsewhere, but I oh so love your one hour service and web uploading.

All-In-One
I’m so glad I have a scanner. It makes quoting chunks of text from books so much easier. OCR all the way!

Re-discovery
I heard Hawksley Workman on the CBC way back. But I never followed up on it. Now I am. And it’s good.

Also, if you ever get a chance to hear the CBC series on the seven deadly sins, listen for his bit on Pride:

I was asked to talk about pride. I didn’t want to, but I was too proud to say no.

Brilliant.

Hot and Cold
A cold fridge and hot water. You never know how needful they are until you don’t have them.

When it rains, it pours. Let’s just leave it at that.

You Are Too Beautiful Lyrics
Hawksley Workman
From the album Treeful of Starling

I walked through the airport alone
I looked at my phone ’cause it keeps me company
I called you as I hired the car
To ask you how far is it there from you to me
And I wrote directions on the back of an old magazine

But you are too beautiful to be in bed with me
Yeah you are too beautiful to be in bed with me
If you could see the thoughts I see
If you could see my thoughts, baby you’d agree

I write this song lovingly on an old girlfriend’s guitar
That she wants me to return
On the 12th floor you took off your clothes
New York in the snow and our bodies left to burn
Soft gentle rebel let the sun pierce the moments of spring

If you could see the face i see
If you could see my face
If you could see my face

And back to work I go. Yes, at this hour. I don’t sleep, ya know.