About Top Pot doughnuts...

Those mutherfuckers sold out to Starbucks which means-joy of joys- they are easily acquired here in Portland, but they have lost their SOUL. I like Voodoo. They've got a good thing going. I miss the Doughnut Plant. My spellchecker doesn't recognize the word :"doughnut". What does that say about the direction our society is headed??
You guys are being awfully tight-lipped out there...am I suddenly the only one without enough on my plate?

Babe the Blue Ox

Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "Blue Balls"

This Have I Learned

Three cheers for surprise days off. But be not fooled. I have spent the majority of the day collecting valuable information. I am, after all, an aspiring student of information.
Here is what this uncomfortably warm day has taught me:

>I do not know how to insert bullet points in this device.
>Hills are much easier to ascend than descend.
>The gods tried to keep me from the park today, but I know not why.
>It is possible to make soy ice cream at home, but hardly worth the effort.
>You cannot buy sporty-style socks in packs of fewer than 3
>Gold Toe socks are preferred 2-1 to the leading brand sock, whatever that may be. I couldn't even venture a guess... any guesses? Melissa, this sounds like the kind of thing you'd like to research...
>Eating a nice crispy apple is just like brushing your teeth, but far more delicious (okay I already knew that one)
>Just because I can see all the parts of a simple machine does not mean I have any idea how to fix it.
>Apparently the mayor (or "meilloro" or whatever the fuck) of Verona once took steps to outlaw the public eating of sandwiches. Thank God. I've heard that sandwich eating is a spreading and unpleasant virus. Jesse, this sounds like something for you to check out.
>Domino's pizza has finally come out with an Oreo pizza. I'm sure the clamoring masses will be appeased. I'm holding out for the Nutter Butter calzone.
>All these years I've been avoiding frozen peas for nothing: they're really not so bad.
>The moment a librarian recommends a book, everyone wants to read it. This explains my inability to find a Jasper Fford book. I cannot wait to have that kind of power!
and finally:
>Mattress World's hard-to-find locations will save YOU money!

Issues of Urgency

I propose that Issues of Urgency be our subject, such as the true identity of Chef Boyardee (apparently Ettore Boiardi, pictured, and not, as I had long suspected, Matteo Boiardo, the author of Orlando Innamorato); what Richie Rich might be up to these days; what we're cooking for dinner; appreciating underused words like milquetoast and avuncular (which as a new uncle seems especially poignant); considering why we never got Sea Monkeys as children; posting pictures of pets, children, and creepy clown dolls; discussing donuts, donut holes, and other pastries and pastry byproducts. Agreed?

To what End?

There are those among us who may ask: What is the purpose of this web log, or "blog"? Ah. Well, perhaps no one knows particularly one way or the other, though I suspect certain parties may be suffering from a lot of time to kill. Which is just ducky, as far as I am concerned. I am more than happy to be part of a collective, and not the type which forces one to reek of second-hand patchouli or make one feel inclined to write anti-establishment logos on ones' knuckles. Just to blather on about, well, I'm not sure about that on which i am expected to blather. I have no cutsie pictures from youth (or even non-cutsie ones, for that matter [hint hint]) though I have become quite adept at digging up all manner of ugly images from the vast depths of the web. Perhaps this, as the youngest, is to be my role, to keep people from staying on subject too long, to keep people from ignoring me too long, to piss them off and annoy them just enough. And J can be all hoity-toity and talk about gilded furniture and M can be ridiculous and discuss the CW's fall lineup. And Josie can urge us all on by figuratively nipping at our collective figurative ankles. From the Great Beyond. And Sam can greet us, metaphorically, with a chewed-up metaphorical 7-Up bottle. From the Great Beyond.

The Real Josie Davis

Just to be clear: We are in no way affiliated with this Josie Davis. Which is unfortunate because apparently she knows Scott Baio. Just to be clear: We don't. And we are sad about that. Or at least I am.

Josie Davis

I realized this morning that if you have siblings you all share the same porn name*. I also realized that since my brothers and I spent far too much time in Lutheran school we probably all have a better than average chance of becoming porn stars. So who gets the name Josie Davis? Which certainly could sound pornalicious in the right context. We could also each take one of our pet's name leaving the first pet to the first born, etc. But if we started divving up the pet names someone would get stuck with Sam Davis a name that sounds more like a beleaguered Reagan-family scion than a porn star. I could be Nicky Davis which isn't half bad as far as porn names go, but because the parakeet namesake was actually a boy and, despite my Lutheran education, I have no interest in being a tranny porn star, it really doesn't work. The only fair option is for us to share the name between us. Hence, The Collected Josie Davis.



*Using the well-established formula of your first pet's name + street where you lived as a child = porn name