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Monday, July 7, 2008

The Local Culture


Cheese cows are the tops! From my recent trip to Milwaukee.

I am forced to stop playing on iMovies by--gasp--work. Such injustice that my great talent must pull the plough of mediocrity when it could be working on matters of cosmic importance, such as figuring out exactly how many women Kirk actually kissed on Star Trek.
(Want to hazard a guess? When I count 'em up, I'll let you know. But now, back to work.)

7 comments:

  1. Remember the cheese horses from Cefalu, Sicily?

    Great cultures think alike?

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  2. Actually, I had forgotten them! Thanks for reminding me.
    I will post your photo.
    I do love these cheese animals, so it's a bit unfair of me to associate them with grumbling about work.
    In fact, I don't mind this work (proofreading today) much either, it's just I'd rather be doing, well, you know what.

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  3. Your blog refreshes me. Your insights about Wm. Shatner's acting are stellar. And cheese cows, wow. I want one. (Though I groan at Bink's culture comment. :o))

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  4. Oooh, I needs me some cheese cows. I just didn't know they were missing from my life.

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  5. Four an episode that is...I would have thought the prime directive would have reigned in Kirks outrageous flirting...!

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  6. Hey, Deanna: I'm glad!
    Cheese cows ARE refreshing, because they live in the cooler!
    I grew up in Wisconsin, mostly, and I thought all cows were black and white, and all barns were red. Like it was a cosmic law or something.
    Imagine my shock.

    And my shock that anyone would guess FOUR (4?!?) as the number of women Kirk kissed, Manfred, until I read your second comment.
    Four per episode:
    That's more like it. : )
    I am putting together my next STvid and gathering 'em all up. It's cracking me up.

    I still haven't done the final count, but since you are the only one to guess, you win a cheese cow. Or at least, the idea of one, as I cannot beam one over to you.

    Ha! The prime directive? I have not noticed that stopping Kirk from doing anything. He's from Iowa and knows no limits!

    (Actually, that's true. Geography shapes us, and when I finally drove through Iowa a few years ago, in the early winter, the plowed land looked like chocolate cake. Rich, rich, rich. And the horizon never came any nearer. Prime directive? Nowhere in sight.

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