Only a few days ago, I had a spat with my mother because she thinks I don’t get outdoors enough anymore, that I spend all my time — or at least too much of my time — sitting at the computer. She may or may not be correct about that — and yes, I know how ridiculous it is that my mommy is still telling me to go outside and play at the age of 40 — but either way, I can relate to this cartoon by Dave Coverly:

See more of Coverly’s work here, if this sort of thing pushes your snicker-button. My thanks to Sullivan for posting this first.

You know James Dyson, the British guy who was so concerned about standard vacuums “losing suction” that he invented his own super-high-tech model with no bags or filters, which creates a hurricane-force vortex inside a stylish yellow chassis by tapping the hellish power of a tiny black hole? Well, okay, his vacuums aren’t really powered by black holes — damn it all, that would be cool! — but you know the guy, right? It seems that Jaquandor isn’t impressed with his latest venture, a bladeless room fan that costs $300:

Seriously, if he’s that big a techno genius, he needs to use his abilities for stuff that’s actually, you know, important. … This guy is like a supergenius with OCD who has decided to use his abilities to rid the world of all of his personal little pet peeves rather than advancing our world toward its ultimate goal of unlimited energy, flying cars and jetpacks, spaceships coming and going all over the place to our colonies throughout the solar system, and a Super Mario game that doesn’t make me feel stupid. We don’t need bladeless fans! Ye Gods, man! Let go of your anal retention and use your powers for good!

I myself have no ill will toward Mr. Dyson, even though I think anyone who’s willing to lay out 300 clams for a fan obviously makes too much money, but I can’t help but admire any rant that builds toward the expression “Ye Gods.” Oh, and the stuff about flying cars and spaceships to the colony worlds is good, too…

Scene from the park-and-ride lot at the train station this morning: a pretty but heavyset early-twenty-something woman, whose obvious black dye-job and purple eye shadow fairly screams “I shop at Hot Topic,” is sitting in her car. Her door is open, and one leg is extended outside, her shiny-black, patent-leather, stiletto-heeled shoe resting flat on the asphalt. It looks like she’s wearing lavender tights under her black jeans. She is seemingly spellbound by whatever she’s listening to on the stereo. It’s not music; it’s a male voice speaking. I’m thinking she doesn’t seem to be the NPR type, so an audiobook, perhaps. As I get closer, I pick up the speaker’s rhythm and enough individual words to confirm my theory. Definitely a story being told, definitely an audiobook.

Then I hear two words in particular: “Bella” and “Edward.”

Of course. I can’t help but snicker.