Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Monday, September 30, 2002

It's a Yogi Berra-esque thing, but so many assume that everyone reads Lileks that they stop linking to him--but not ME, baby! Of course, it would be easy to link to the Bleat--everyone does do not do that all the time not; or to the weekly Newhouse, which I already did last week. But no. No, I'm going to link to yet another of the Sage of Minnesota's hefty tote bag of col-yumes, his thrice weekly Backfence column for the Strib (which is the codeword we lilekognoscenti use to refer to his home newspaper, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune). The one from Sunday is excerpted below:
[...] In high school, my hair began thinning, and I was desperate to avoid the total Kojak by 30. My mother's hairdresser had a sure-fire cure: raw eggs, rubbed into the scalp and left in place for an hour. For several weeks every morning I sat in the kitchen, watching game shows, mashing the ingredients for chicken fetuses into my scalp, wiping away the rivulets of egg that coursed down my nose. I also used an egg shampoo. I would have tried hard-boiled enemas if there was medical evidence that it battled baldness; I was desperate.

Did it work? Yes. I was about to say no, but I realized that my hair stopped fleeing like Italian soldiers, and the eggs were quite possibly the key. But don't try this at home, as they say. Try it in public, where we can all point and laugh. [...]
Wow! Not only did he write a book about regrettable food, he WORE it!


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