Dune is your 13th read! GO YOU.
-Zoée
Zoée also follows elite reader Kristen on StoryGraph. Kristen has basically met the reading goals Zoée and I set for ourselves this year. While I consider myself a competitive person, it’s become more intrinsic these days. I’m more inclined to bond over shared interests rather than whupping asses. I’m certain Zoée, like I, have resigned to having our asses whupped by the sandworm of bookworms, Kristen. All we want to do is surpass our 2025 numbers.
Googling “advice bunny” pulled up “advice animals” on the Know Your Meme wiki, which claims the meme started with a dog in 2006.
I was confident the bunny predated the dog by several years. I pulled out my hard drive and searched my archived blog posts for mentions of said advice bunny.
Humorous distractions aside, I have a sensitive issue that requires actual advice from humans.
Continue reading “Where’s advice bunny when you need him?”I set a goal to run a half-marathon (21.2km) by the end of the month. Lola says I’m in my PRIME.
I even purchased a new pair of running shoes last Friday: the Mizuno Wave Rider 29, which I named “Skid Marks” on Strava. One of Strava’s features allows you to track the mileage on your equipment. My three bikes are named Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Cherry Valance. My shoes are called Runny Poos, and now, I have Skid Marks as well.
So far, I have put 5.8km on my Skid Marks, and I can’t do any more for the next bit because I am healing a re-tattoo of my stupid yellow-bellied goose and my underbite-having flying fish.
Continue reading “Hot and sticky under the collar.”Last week, I received a mass email from the owner of the bike shop with the subject line “Freakishly Awesome Opportunity.” This FAO was described as “an outdoor experience involving all muscle groups and little neurological activity,” and was set to take place in Shawnigan Lake, a village 50km north of Victoria, on Sunday the 12th. At that time, I was deep into Agatha Christie’s “And Then There Were None,” which tells the tale of ten strangers–lured by an invitation from a mysterious person–who find themselves marooned on a distant island where they are bumped off one by one.
What peculiar timing! If I had a moustache, I’d have been twirling it. I’ve since finished the book, whose ending was spoiled by its title. After finishing the story, I arrived at the “About the Author” section, in which it is claimed that Agatha Christie is the most widely published author of all time and in any language, outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare.
I’d be much more pleased to find an Agatha Christie novel in the bedside drawer at the next hotel I stay at than the Bible. Needless to say, I did not end up taking the bait to Shawnigan Lake last Sunday. (The cryptic email, as explained by a colleague today, was to help build a dock at the owner’s vacation home.)
I reserved my distress for Tuesday morning:
