Defective Yeti recently had a flash of inspired brilliance, in the form of this great Infocom-esque text adventure version of Bush's presidency. Here's how it all starts off:
Iraqi Invasion: A Text Misadventure
Revision 88 / Serial number 54892
You are standing inside a White House, having just been elected to the presidency of the United States. You knew Scalia would pull through for you.
There is a large desk here, along with a few chairs and couches. The presidential seal is in the middle of the room and there is a full-length mirror upon the wall.
What do you want to do now?
> INVADE IRAQ
You are not able to do that, yet.
> LOOK MIRROR
Self-reflection is not your strong suit.
> PET SEAL
It's not that kind of seal.
> EXAMINE CHAIRS
They are two several chairs arranged around the center of the room, along with two couches. Under one couch you find Clinton's shoes.
> FILL SHOES
You are unable to fill Clinton's shoes.
I don't recall now where I found it, but Grocerylists.org is a strangely entertaining collection of found grocery lists, many of them featuring amusing combinations of items, odd misspellings, repetitions, curious notations, and other quirks. For example: "Squirt Gun, Hot Peppers, Strawberrys, Bee Trap, Pie Pans". For the best, skip right to the top ten lists.
Here's a neat news story: A caricaturist draws a quick mug of the man who robbed him, leading to his swift capture by police.
The Daily Grail reposts a Globe and Mail article about a new diet snack-food fad...communion wafers, marketed and sold in grocery stores as "Host Pieces", in godless Quebec.
Is nothing sacred in Quebec any more? The answer may lie on the grocery-store shelves of the province, next to the chips, corn puffs, and salty party pretzels.
That's where shoppers can pick up an increasingly popular snack: communion wafers and sheets of communion bread. These paper-thin morsels made from flour and water hark back to Quebec's churchgoing days and the sacred rite of receiving holy communion.
But in today's secular Quebec, the wafers and bread are packaged like peanuts and popcorn - and sold as a distinctly profane snack.
"They melt in your mouth, and they're not fattening, so it's better than junk food," said Françoise Laporte, a white-haired grandmother of 71 who buys packages of Host Pieces at her local IGA in east-end Montreal. "I'm Catholic. This reminds us of mass."
For older Quebeckers, the snacks offer up a form of nostalgia. Surprisingly, however, they're also finding favour with a younger generation that has rarely, if ever, set foot inside a church.
"My son can eat a whole bag while he's watching TV," Paul Saumure, a manager at another IGA store, said of his 22-year-old. "He's had more of them outside of church than he ever did inside one."
I want. Via Michelle's Mental Clutter.
Michelle also has a great post with loads of Simpsons links, including a mildly amusing SimpsonMaker character creator, and a really cool Interactive Map of Springfield. Go see!