Of the sacred desert sand

I went to Ben Folds last weekend. Jill posted about it. However, she failed to describe the opening act: Corn Mo. He was a large man with long, stringy, 70's-rocker hair. He played an accordion and sang in a rather crazy 70's-hair-band-meets-Freddie-Mercury type way. See for yourself. That link doesn't quite do what we saw justice, since he was all alone on stage. To really get a feel for it, you should watch a couple of the videos that are on the page. Anyway, Ben was awesome, as always. On a related note, if you're extremely tall, extremely fat, extremely poorly groomed and bathed, and you have extremely large hair, please do other concert goers a favor and stand in the back or only go to shows with seats or something.

I think the mannequins are getting too life-like. I was walking by Victoria's Secret, and for a split second, I was like, "What is that girl wearing??!", but it turned out it was only a mannequin in the middle of the store. I mean, how anatomically correct do these things need to be? I think we can imagine more than the mannequin-makers give us credit for. However, I would imagine that it's a rough industry -- where do you make huge advances in the mannequin-producing industry? "Way to go Joe, way to make realistic nipples." They probably would get bored if they couldn't keep trying to improve their models. Pretty soon, they're going to advance far enough that the industries of mannequin-production and robotics will merge. We're going to have robots wearing Vicky's underwear roaming the store and helping females (who probably will be extremely self-conscious due to the super-hot robot models) try on underwear.

In other news, I got a spam email today with the title, "Of the sacred desert sand". In the body of the email was simply this (and only this -- no picture ads for Cialis or Viagra or anything like that, incredibly enough). The body didn't contain the title again, and it wasn't in italics or anything, but I took some poetic license in my rendition of this beautiful email.

"Of the sacred desert sand"

Hello!

The principal cannot skip school!

Now there are roaches eating crumbs-
Which makes my parents glad.
I did a lousy job.
I did a lousy job.
When I come home from school.
I didn't shut the light.
You guessed it-on my rear.
My grades are so much better now,
School is closed now, what's it to ya?
If I don't get it off my chest
I felt it on my ear.
and a full-blown case of rabies.
He greets me at the door each day
I have a brief confession
eight spider bites and hair loss,
There won't be school no more.
I didn't clean the mess.
and a broken leg with scabies,
There was mischief in their eyes.
School is closed now, what's it to ya?
I hope my students don't find out
I had asthma and was wheezing.
that I am such a slob.

I found it quite touching.