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Books, books, books.

Last night I studied some basic Gaelic. It's nifty. It's also pronounced almost nothing like it's spelled. There's a little one-page pronunciation guide in the front which entirely ignores the fact that none of the consonants sound like they do in English, and any combination of letters, vowels or consonants, sounds pretty much random.

But I can say things like "a dog was on the hill" -- bha cu aig an dun, with accents over the u in "cu" and "dun", pronouned "vah koo ek un dooon", with a long "ooo" in "dooon". Anyway. Gaelic. Yeah. Stuff.

And "My Life in Tights", by Burt Ward, reveals what a truly creepy old perv Adam West was (is?), and how the two of them were these odd 1960's sex symbols. Apparently they were the focus of enormously kinky (for the 60's) people because they wore masks and tights. Very odd.

It apparently got them laid in every spare moment, though.

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Oh, and for all you CMU people -- the villainous, reviled, sociopathic billionare corporate raider father of Burt Ward's wife has the last name "Posner". I'm guessing it's not a coincidence.

He sleeps with fourteen-year-old girls and makes nasty jokes about them at the dinner table. In their presence. About oral sex. Somehow, despite all they have in common he and Burt Ward don't get along :-)

Another convert

I got Rob to listen to the Deirdre Flint stuff on MP3.com, and after two songs he's a convert. Bonus! :-)