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I am a Los Angeles-based twentysomething. I have a profession, and I have a secret life in music, and this blog isn't about any of that. I like Blogger because I can't read what you're thinking.

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Wednesday, May 14   >>

YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE GREAT?

...If the guy on the Dyson commercials were as inspired about, say, curing cancer as much as, oh, the creation of a vacuum WITH A HUGE FUCKING BALL ON IT.
TEACHER PEER AT THE MUSIC ACADEMY I TEACH AT: Dude. I just got a Dyson vacuum last night.

HUGO: Pricey!!! ...Didn't you say you're, like, expecting a kid soon?

TEACHER PEER: It's the one with the BALL.
Sorry, but the only ball-related ANYTHING I'll ever buy is a Skip-It. But the very best thing of all (cha-cha-cha) is the counter on this ball.

True story: The Sister and I were in a Skip-It contest at Lakewood Mall, circa 1992. That. Was my finest moment. I think I did 150 or so revolutions until I realized that I was 5 more skips from being identified as "HEY, GAY KID!" Not that there's anything wrong with that.

James Dyson, creator of the Dyson vacuum, is actually Sir James Dyson. Not even shitting you.

Is it just me, or does anyone ever get the impression that James Dyson is a pack rat? Genius scientists are seldom organized. Dust mite, meet kettle.