Not so long ago, my roommate and I decided to clean out the fridge. We moved into a three-bedroom place within a few months of each other. Apparently, previous roommates had simply been leaving behind things they didn’t feel like moving out, or didn’t remember they owned. The fridge was no exception. We found a jar of jam from 1998. We also found a gallon bag of crushed cayenne in the freezer, and about twelve bottles of hot sauce (various brands) in the door of the fridge. One of the sauces actually made Rachel’s hands burn as she was pouring it out. Someone who once lived in our house obviously has no tongue.
My favorite mirror project gallery so far.
This morning, the bus smelled of fried prawns. The man next to me was sitting much too close. This made me want to push him. I ultimately decided against it.
I have now officially received eight emails explaining the origins of the phrase “I don’t give a tinker’s damn,” or alternately, “I don’t give a tinker’s dam.” Of these, three began with the phrases, “You might be surprised to learn,” “It might surprise you that,” and “Surprisingly enough.” I also received several suggestions of additional phrases that all of you should use more, the best of which were:
- Enthusiasm: “Bangarang!”
- Approval: “I like the cut of his jib.”
- Threat: “I’ll fix your little red wagon.”
Few things are more entertaining than a bright writer with a grudge and a fresh pen. In the June 2002 issue of GQ, Bob Drury writes of former George magazine editor Richard Blow’s memoir:
“What is certain is that Blow types faster than he can write.”
What are you talking about?
No, no, I was totally involved. Totally.
And she knows Voodoo.
- To express dissatisfaction: “I don’t give a tinker’s damn.”
- As a toast: “Here’s mud in your eye!”
- To express approval: “He’s a tall, cool drink of water.”