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Inhuman Swill : Page 194
Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

Penicillin

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So, with Laura's strep throat, the doctor prescribed her a course of penicillin—and a course for me too. Now I'm taking these nasty 500mg tablets every six hours. I have trouble swallowing pills, and these mothers are big.

Oh, well, maybe they'll kill all my internal fauna and help me lose some weight. ;-)

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Family jewels

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Do you all have relatives that forward you the stupidest, most offensive emails ever written? I love my uncle dearly, but he has the habit. I just got the one from him, which you've probably seen, about how racial profiling of Muslim males at airport security is justified, and we should leave the little old ladies, kids, and Congressmen alone. It comes in the form of a ten-question quiz on who was responsible for various infamous acts of terror over the past thirty years.

Well, sometimes I go off my nut a little when I get thoughtless tripe like this in my inbox, especially from someone who knows that I and at least two other relatives on his mailing list have vastly different political beliefs from your average Mormon Republican.

So I reply-all'd the following:

Right, let's stop searching everyone at airport security, because no white person would *ever* try to blow up a plane. We Caucasians concentrate on Federal buildings like the one in Oklahoma City instead. In fact, let's not stop at profiling in airports. I won't be happy until the nice Pakistani man who owns the grocery store on my corner is in an internment camp with his wife and children. And I like the Egyptian restaurant over on Steinway Street so much that I think I'll go smash it up with a baseball bat.
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Tonight the new season of the documentary series P.O.V. debuts on PBS, with an episode called "The Smith Family":

The Smiths of Salt Lake City may have America's most common surname, but their story is anything but ordinary. With two boys, a dog, a nice house and a strong commitment to the Mormon Church, Steve and Kim Smith believed they had achieved the American dream. But after nine years of marriage, shattering revelations of betrayal came—enough to test the strongest bonds of faith and love. When Steve confessed to infidelities with men, and they both find they are HIV+, Kim makes an unlikely choice. "The Smith Family" is a searing account of one family's struggle to preserve family and faith, while redefining forgiveness in the face of daunting tragedy.
It's on at 10:00 pm tonight Eastern time. Go here to check your local PBS station's schedule
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The privileged class

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So I prepared a manuscript for submission this morning, and I stopped by the post office on the way to work to mail it. This was the post office on 34th Street between Park and Lex, at about 10 am.

As I approached the propped-open front door, I had to step lively to keep from being run down by woman pushing a cart full of brown-paper packages of all sizes. The woman was fifty or so, potato-shaped, with ill-advised red-dyed hair and ill-advised tight white stirrup pants.

I bounced through the outer door and prepared to hold the inner door open for the cart woman, as I am usually wont to do, well-mannered fellow that I am. However, when the woman said, "Hold that door open for me," in a tone that made it clear that she was the lady of the manor and I was the servant in grubby livery, with nary a please or a question mark or an ounce of courtesy in earshot, I nearly balked. I nearly—and the words were right there on my tongue—nearly said, "I was planning to before you asked me like that," but, thanks again to my good manners, I said nothing. I just held the door.

When she was through the door, I stepped lively again to beat her to the end of the line. I was damned if I'd let her and her bushel of parcels on line in front of me. I reached the end of the queue and took my place—but the woman didn't even glance in the direction of the line. She went straight to one of the counters. "These are all unopened," she announced in a loud voice to the nearest postal worker. "Can I leave them with you?"

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Flip-flop on thongs

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Here's an amusing article about the BYU dress policy from a recent issue of The Chronicle of Higher Education, sent to me by my friend Bob:

Flip-Flop on Thongs
by Christopher Flores
June 14, 2002

When some incoming freshmen at Brigham Young University's Idaho campus read the institution's dress code this spring, they were surprised to learn that "thongs" were taboo on the Mormon campus.

Incredulous, they called the dean of students' office, demanding to know how officials justified underwear regulation and how such a rule could possibly be enforced. That's when officials realized they needed to get with the terms of the times: "Thongs" today suggests a skimpy type of underwear or bikini bottom, not flip-flops, to which the university's years-old policy referred.

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Unhappy in Utah

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Check out this article on depression in Utah, from CBSNews.com:

Unhappy in Utah
Yes, this is the happy state where I grew up.

The most disturbing bit of the article is the part where they quote statistics on suicide in Utah among 5- to 22-year-olds. Are we to infer from this that there are 5-year-olds committing suicide?

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I just ordered three of Kenn Brown's wry T-shirts, for me and my movie-going buddies Bob and Ken:

http://www.kontent-online.com/kontenttshirts.htm
I think they're hilarious.
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Blond over blue

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I'm afraid this may be the entry in which I make myself sound vain and pretentious. So be it, if I haven't already done it many times over.

Laura and I have been trying to get our hairdresser Brian over for an appointment. Brian is Danish, he makes house calls, and he's affordable, so every few months we have him over. I get my hair bleached and cut, and Laura does ... well, what she gets done to her hair. It costs us each a hundred bucks.

My hair's been getting shaggy*, and there are a couple of big events coming up in the next month or so—a wedding for our friends Ron and Edie, and a reading for me at KGB. So it's high time for a cut and color. We've been trying to get Brian on the phone for weeks and arrange for him to come, well, this evening. Finally he called yesterday and said, "Sorry, I can't come Thursday, but would a week from today work?"

Laura, exasperated, agreed, but didn't remember that I have an engagement that night.

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Bilmo sells out

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Or at least I hope to. Get some Inhuman Swag today!

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The Dilbert Hole

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A friend who works for United Media points out this site, which was just discovered infringing Dilbert's, er, copyright:

      The Dilbert Hole

No minors please. Even though we minors are the only ones who will find this funny.

Hurry before they're sued out of existence!

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