Inhuman Swill | Blog | William Shunn
Inhuman Swill : Page 209
Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

(NEW YORK CITY, UPI) Funeral services were held Thursday night for well-loved Siamese fighting fish Frankenfurter Fishenheimer, who passed away earlier that day, presumably of old age.

Fishenheimer, known as "Frank" to family and friends, had resided with Laura Chavoen of Manhattan for the fifteen months prior to his passage. Frank joined the household after being acquired as a door prize at the World Fantasy Awards Banquet in Providence, Rhode Island, by William Shunn.

"The little gold Tasmanian Devil wasn't even under my plate," said Shunn. "Eileen Gunn was the proper winner, but she didn't want to try to transport him home, so Frank joined our family instead."

Shunn carried the red two-and-a-half-inch fish back to New York in a plastic bag on his lap in the back seat of Greg Costikyan's car.

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Make your own license plate

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I've wasted an inordinate amount of time this morning making my own license plates. Try it. It's not just a pastime for us convicts anymore!

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I'm telling this story on LiveJournal now because Laura keeps asking me if I've told this story on LiveJournal yet. Now the answer can be yes.

This was about three weeks ago, I guess. It was nine-thirty or so at night, and Laura and I were walking home from our karate class. "Oh, my god, we had the funniest conversation in the locker room," said Laura.

"Did it have to do with tattoos?" I asked. The last time Laura told me about a funny conversation in the locker room, she described a scene where she and the other women in our class were standing around in bras and panties comparing their tattoos. I had to ask her to stop lest I obsess.

"No, but Sempai Jones said, 'Oh, my God, did you hear that guy fart during our stomach crunches there at the end? I mean, no big deal, it happens in classes all the time, but it stunk so bad I had to move down a few feet.' "

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They say that stepping in dogshit first thing in the morning is good luck, right? Please tell me that's what they say.

Oh, well, I guess it wasn't as bad as the day in November when I was carrying Laura's brother's suitcase out to the cab in the street and I stepped—and slid—in the dead rat.

Gotta love New York.

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Don't touch my moustache

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Amsterdam, 2000
There seems to be a trend afoot, and far be it from me to buck it. So why not cast a vote as to which is the better hair style?

Of course, in my instance it's facial hair you're voting on, because there's not enough of the other kind to make much difference . . .
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Maybe you caught the news this morning that, in a surprise announcement, Andrew Cuomo declared his intention of running for governor of New York. Cuomo, until ten days ago, was of course our HUD Secretary, and you probably know that his dear ol' dad Mario used to be governor here.

What surprised me was that this was a surprise announcement. What else is the son of a former governor going to do when his Cabinet appointment ends—particularly one whose family connections stretch back so far in national politics on both sides?

In all fairness, I had some, er, insider information. My friend Jonathan worked until recently for Kerry Kennedy Cuomo's human rights organization Speak Truth to Power. Kerry is Andrew's wife, and she's also RFK's daughter. Jonathan invited Laura and me to a private signing of the coffee-table book Speak Truth to Power in December, which was held at Kenneth Cole's flagship store at Rockefeller Center. Kenneth is married to Andrew's sister, and all the above-mentioned folks were in attendance at the little shindig, plus RFK Jr., who looks far more like his father than JFK Jr. looked like his.

Anyway, Jonathan told me that Andrew would be running for governor, and that he has his eye on the Presidency eventually. (Maybe he and Hillary will duke it out for the Democratic nomination in 2008—which would be an even stranger scenario than the one I sketched out for my story "From Our Point of View We Had Moved to the Left," which appeared F&SF in 1993 and concerned the Presidential Inauguration of 2009.) Andrew's intent seemed so inevitable that I guess I couldn't believe anyone would find his announcement a surprise.

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Babe the blue OX

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For you BOX fans out there, I just got a very nice email from Rose Thomson, who tells me that they'll be playing February 17th at Mercury Lounge. Appropriately, one can get there by taking the F train to Second Avenue.

Of course, just my luck, I'm scheduled to be in Arizona for a friend's wedding reception that day. I missed the last Babe show, January 18th at the Knitting Factory, because I was in Los Angeles. I wonder if I can convince them to abandon this strategy of only scheduling shows when I'm out of town?

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Tomorrow's weather

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As reported yesterday evening by the A&E Biography sign:

I've been looking today, and I have to admit I haven't seen him yet. But I think that's because he keeps to the 'burbs.
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President Clinton's Final Days

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If you haven't seen this video yet, and you have a fast connection, you owe it to yourself to check it out. You won't see George Dubya making a video like this anytime soon. (My favorite part is the bit with Kevin Spacey, but I like the ice cream machine almost as much.)

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Today's weather, as reported last night by the A&E Biography sign:

      WINDY & COLD

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