The queues for Alterac Valley are insane tonight. 45 minutes for the last one; 20 minutes and counting for this. (Should I use a special font when geeking over World of Warcraft?)
This postcard of a Lyon street scene is blurry in its own right. I didn't mess it up, honest. It must be the formula of "sidewalk cafe + photographer + Gallic shrug = PROFIT."
But I'm too worried about those white chairs at center bottom to say. Aren't those the same plastic white chairs you can get at any discount superstore? Ones that will get cracks and pools of mucky water near the back when it rains? What are they doing in FRANCE? On 5 September 1994?
A slew of mass-mailed coupons came from Station Casinos today. Looks like August be the breakfast buffet month of 2008, especially at cheap/convenient Palace Station. Hate the dinner buffet. Hate the dinner buffet clientele. But in the mornings it's a pleasant scene of senior tourists and pretty good fare.
By the way, the "How can they mess up eggs?" question is valid everywhere in Las Vegas except at Excalibur. I think it must be because they didn't have eggs backs in King Arthur's time. It's true! Well, they had turkey eggs and duck eggs and, I guess, dragon eggs, unless some of those knights were fibbers, but no chicken eggs.
Chickens were imported to England from Denmark around the year 960. The original birds were about 30" tall, but over the centuries they were bred down to smaller sizes to make better use of the space in hutches. (So, when you see a chicken on a heraldic crest, know that we're not talking about a feathered football. They were really quite silky and statuesque. Like Julie Newmar.) Also, chickens were the original stereotype for a witch's familiar. because that "Bok! Bok! Bok!" noise was (supposedly) how shady characters summoned the devil when standing at a crossroads. Google it if you don't believe me!
(Or don't, because I'm completely lying. This Alterac Valley queue, I'm telling you.)
Goodness, this postcard was actually sent to someone in the U.S.! (Where chickens were brought over in 1851 by the Pinkertons in response to labor strikes in the... sorry. Hard to stop.) It was mailed to Mr. and Mrs. E. Marren, 312 2nd St., Dunellen, New Jersey. Nice street.
Google shows that just this past March, Mr. Marren was remembered in a mass by his wife, in honor of their 60th wedding anniversary. Unexpected sweetness.
Should I send this card back to Mrs. Marren? You never know whether people have willingly let go of these things. I think I will, now that I know she's out there. Or maybe an email to the church? The town's population is under 7000; someone might be willing to pass along a message.
"Dear Ed and Joan,
"It was so nice to see you both. I've obtained some delicacies from Dijon to add to those lovely treats you bought. What a Christmas feast we will have!
"Weather ideal but I'm about Abbey, Cathedral and Chateau-ed out. Looking forward to Paris.
"Love, Terry."
That's my cue to go across the room and scoop up our Terry. I'll give him some tofu and tell him it's from Dijon, laid by special Danish chickens who went over on holiday and met up with some mustard-making witches. How they ended up laying bricks of tofu is a rather interesting story. You should Google it some time.
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