The Cassini spacecraft is approaching Saturn and, if all goes well, it will go into orbit around the ringed planet. Imagine shooting something into space and hitting your target seven years and 800 million miles later?

It’s a shame that the world is in such a state that this amazing accomplishment is not getting the attention it deserves.

Updated to correct my use of the word “flow” when I should have said “floe.” I want to thank the commenter below for very gently bringing that to my attention. Nicely done.

A reader** asked if he could have the name, address and phone number of the Bridal Shop I wrote about here. He wanted to get in touch with the shopkeeper to see if she would be interested in selling his mother-in-law. Being astute in matters of commerce, the reader pointed out that he did not intend to try to sell his mother-in-law to the store for resale, but rather that he was willing to place her in the store on consignment.

I asked what kind of return he hoped to realize upon an eventual sale, assuming, arguendo, that someone would actually want buy a second-hand mother-in-law. Stressing that profit must sometimes take a backseat to intangible benefits, he indicated that he was not interested in making any money from the deal, but rather he just wanted to rid his sorry ass of her sorry ass. Indeed, he stated that he would be willing to pay a sizeable bonus to a willing buyer.

I declined to provide the requested information, because I feared that the shopkeeper might actually want to take him up on his offer, and that, once the public got wind of the possibilities of such an arrangement, the store would be deluged with mothers-in-law on consignment. This, in turn, would interfere with the store’s future selling of “shoe” and “bridesmates,” which would take away one of my sources of blogfodder.

OK, so I’m selfish, but I am not insensitive. As such, I am not happy about having to disappoint a reader, so I suggest the following as a possible alternative solution:

Take her sorry ass on a cruise to Alaska, and, when no one is looking, put her on an ice floe and push it in the direction of the open sea.

I really love the feel of a good idea.

** A person who is a member of a highly select group of intelligent, witty, creative, humorous, articulate, and talented people, with extremely discriminating taste in blogs. (Note to Tiger: Sometimes, although not often, a footnote is just right.)

Take a shot at flying a helicopter. It’s not one of those games that requires reading long instructions, and it can be played with only the left mouse button. In other words, my kinda game.

It did, however, drive me nuts after about four minutes.

Thanks, I think, to my friend Brian, the Air Force Vet.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about a small bridal shop in town that had a hand-lettered sign in the window that said, “Shoe Only $10.00.” I can only assume that the shopkeeper managed to sell the shoe, or that he or she gave up trying, because yesterday I noticed that the “Shoe” sign had been replaced with a new hand-lettered sign that reads:

BIG SALE
BRIDESMATES
MOTHER
START AT $119

Bridesmates?

I originally thought that the storekeeper might have a stable of men she was offering to sell to brides who were, as they say, “left at the altar,” or women who desire a mate, but are too busy/shy/crazy/homely/slovenly to find one in a more conventional way.

“Kinda tacky,” I thought.

It then dawned on me that I am just not hip to creative weddings, and that the shop might well be selling people to participate in nautical weddings. These days, couples are increasingly choosing exotic sites for weddings, so I’m certain that some of them are opting to get married at sea.

Given that the price of a bridesmate “start” at $119, I assume that for the sale price a bride gets only a run-of-the-mill bridesmate, and that a really salty one goes for considerably more, but I’m just guessing.

Having sorted out the bridesmate thing, I remain perplexed about the idea of selling a “mother.” It is, I think, safe to assume that the $119 figure does not apply to the mother, as there is only one of them for sale, and, as such, the “start” price doesn’t make much sense. I do not know the exact price for the mother, but given that she is part of the ad, I assume that she is also on sale.

It is always sad when a bride’s mother is unable, through death or illness, to see her daughter get married, but I wonder whether a motherless bride would have much interest in buying a mother, even at a sale price.

I truly believe that I scooped the local newspaper on this important story. I’ll keep you posted.

I suspect that you all have heard the OnStar radio commercials, which feature real-time recordings of OnStar subscribers having their car doors unlocked remotely and having OnStar call police in the event of an accident “with air bag deployment.” These are compelling stories and effective (I assume) advertisements.

Well, here is a real (Honest injun) story about an OnStar subscriber (or a subscriber to a similar service), whom I know.

This fellow, who we will call “Pete,” is a subscriber. One day he stopped for a rather ample businessman’s lunch. After leaving the restaurant, he hopped into the car and headed off to his next appointment. Apparently, one of the features of this (or a similar) service is voice-activated-dialing, where, as instructed by a computer-generated voice, the driver speaks the numbers to be dialed, and the software dials the number, hands-free.

So, ol’ Pete, quite full from lunch, was cruising down the road, and he decided to check in with his office. He began to slowly and distinctly recite the number to be dialed. “Nine…seven…three, …four….” And, at that moment, the lunch caught up with him and he cut a bone shattering fart BRRRRRAAAAAAACCCCKKKK.

The OnStar electronic voice responded, “Pardon?”

Ain’t technology grand?

Disney World, nein! Tutow ist mir lieber.

Via Curmudegonly & Skeptical

You must check out Two Nervous Dogs, Dogwood, Cafe Dog Breath. It has another new look and another new and most excellent name.

I am in ore of Towdawg’s creativity. I think I have to drink more coffee.

I’m updating the blogroll for this one.

My friend Craig, of mtpolitics, once again demonstrating why he is the Nicest Guy in the Blogosphere, installed MT-Blacklist for me. I am most grateful, as he saved me from hours, days, and possibly weeks of intractable hair pain that would have resulted had I tried to install it myself. He also did you a service by keeping you from having to listen to me qvetch about taking a prolonged techo-beating by MT-Blacklist.

Take that, “hrie.”

Colin at Middle Gray has issued a warning that hrie@yahoo.com has returned with a new, bogus e-mail address (I was tagged this afternoon). He/she/it (I’m going with “he”) is now hrie@.yahi7o.com. Middle Gray has a good deal to say about MT Blacklist and other ways of dealing with this shit-spewing mutt. Although I don’t understand the technical stuff, I am sure that many of you will.

While no one can seem to identify “hrie,” we do know who his clients are. Do any of you technical types know of any way to spam his clients? Maybe if they got a taste of what it being done on their behalf, they would change their marketing practices.

I have also considered going to his clients’ sites (the one I received was for online poker at http://www.play-online-poker.greatnow.com) and seeing whether I can send an e-mail, and, if so, writing them a letter putting them on notice that I am holding them responsible for the actions of their agent.

Just a thought.

“I think I’ll just make myself comfurtable in Mr. Recliner and watch the Discovery Channel for about ten minutes.”

That’s what I told myself about four hours ago.

Jimbo – 0
Morpheus – 1