It's all just a little bit of history repeating

How many Survivor premieres must go by before the contestants realize that any initial direction they might receive from the producers as to what attire they should wear on Day 1 is a TRICK? And that anyone with half a brain cell should ignore said direction and wear as many practical and necessary items as possible, because within 3 minutes of Jeff's welcome spiel, they will be promptly relieved of all possessions save the clothing on their backs?

Given this history, why would anyone think it's a good idea to show up on Day 1 of filming in a sequined top, or a dress with no bra? Did you really think Jeff was going to let you unpack your wheelybag, leash your pups, and change into your camp clothes after the cameras started to roll? Have you ever seen an event take place on Survivor that warrants anything dressier than athleticwear? You don't have soap, deodorant, or razors--why do you need sequins?

They only come out at night

Long ago when I was but a wee freshman in college and reveling in my newfound spudd queen status, my dear friend K enchanted all of us with an e-mailed poem entitled "EEEEEEK! Bats!" This creative expression was inspired by concurrent and clearly traumatic encounters with a wayward bat and multiple mice at home during spring break. I couldn't help but wonder how she would have responded had we been subjected to this.

Meanwhile, as K is someone who has certain issues with clowns and mimes (and, I might add, is well justified in that), she will no doubt be convinced that someone in the cosmos is having a little fun with my officemate (O) on behalf of all past victims of vile costumed performers. O has been armtwisted by the in-laws into throwing a way-too-big (as in so big you need to RENT the location) party for her child's first birthday and committed herself (heh) to a circus theme before actually trying to shop for the supplies. Now she is struggling to find party stuff consistent with the theme. Yesterday, she wanted to know why she couldn't find "just some simple stuff with clowns on it--doesn't anybody sell kids' party supplies with clowns?" Why? Why indeed?

Too bad I'm not invited--I've already picked out the perfect gift!

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile...

Well, said large automobile is thus far refusing to leave us. Trying to sell a minivan with over 100,000 miles is easier said than done. It's a great car, really! Drives like a dream! Nothing wrong at all! DH actually got an e-mail tonight from someone who saw our ad and wanted to know, if the car was so great, why were we selling it?

Punk.

But he does have a point, I guess. Um, we're selling it because it's dark colored and shows every speck of dirt that lands on it? Because I once overheard catty female peers I don't know making fun of it when the valet at a fancy hotel in Center City brought it out for me? Because I got an even older car with almost as much mileage that's still way cooler?