GAAAAACCKKKK!!!

Aren't modern times great? Isn't it lovely that we can go from an interesting idea in children's fantasy literature to having the actual thing? And magic has nothing to do with it.

I know, that wordacious first paragraph as filler before I get to the real meat of the deal here.

Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans certainly sounded like fun the first time we read Harry Potter. I certainly didn't want to taste half the flavors, but that didn't matter. Wizard candy would seem difficult to attain in the Muggle world.

Then along comes Jelly Belly, fast becoming my favorite producer of nonchocolate candies. Anyone who can make a jelly bean flavored like buttered popcorn vaults several levels based on that one candy alone.

So what I was told was tutti frutti tasted like bubble gum flavor, which I don't really like so much. I'm certainly not repulsed by it, saving repulsion for the next one. Big Brother checked the bean then checked the guide on the package and declared it was either dirt or earthworm. It was dirt, but not a spitting dry dirt out of your mouth in a soccer game kind of dirt. This was a gummy dirt that still lingers somewhere in my nasal passages. Follow that with sardine which I promptly spit out.

I doubt The Boy notices differences in flavor when eating candy as he generally just attacks it. But Big Brother has to check each individual jelly bean before eating it so that he knows what flavor it is. I'm not sure if that stops him from eating any of them. I'm also not sure how they get the grass flavor to taste like grass. But that's quite okay.

braggin' on Momma

Momma has been practicing for the past few weeks with the Hard Knox Rollergirls, our town's answer to the growing roller derby craze. The practices are held at a fairly local roller skating rink. We aren't the only people there with kids, and several of the other girls bring their kids. During practice, any nonrollergirls are allowed to skate around the outside of the rink.

Big Brother is taking to the skates like a natural. He's made a couple of new friends as well as getting to see some old friends that we haven't seen in a while.

At the first practice I followed The Boy around, ready at a moment to catch him before he fell. Practice number two he didn't want to be followed/helped, so I let him go and did a little skating myself.

Last night I didn't bother with skates. The Boy wasn't making my night easy, and my sore as shit inner thigh muscles didn't need to be worked that way. So I got to pay attention to the girls a bit more.

They are coming along nicely. Many of the girls hadn't really skated before or hadn't skated in a very long time. Momma certainly hadn't skated in a while, though she actually owns her own skates.

On to the brag and the finish.

During time trials, Momma out skated every one there and consistently scored the lowest times. As I watched, I saw where she could get even faster. She needs better wheels if not better skates altogether. Her wheels were slipping as she took the curves, though she controlled her speed and turns well and didn't fall. If she were more stable in the curves at speed, she would easily shave a couple of seconds or more off her time.

They also began splitting into teams last night. I'm not sure exactly what's happening, how it's working, but I'm thinking that all the girls are basically the beginning of the local league, and from the crowd of girls at the practices they will form teams. Momma was offered a position on a team almost immediately.

Other than a message board, the only website I can find for the Hard Knox Roller Girls is their Myspace page. It's linked if anyone cares to check it out.

nothing worse

In a comment to my last post concerning Bush, the unstoppable juggernaut of unable to admit his own evil, friend Bridget left this comment.

Ah, not to worry.

The White House isn't a foreign place to our next President. She's just going to be sitting in a different office.

This comment of course reminded me of a delightful piece of video that the good folks over at Daily Kos were nice enough to point out and link to.

According to Tom Delay, there is nothing worse than a "know it all woman."

Take it for what it is. Hardball really doesn't seem that hard in light of the pandering to Delay that is evident in this clip.

And for the record, so that she can be even with Bill, I'll stand up now and offer my services to perform for Mrs. Clinton from under the desk.