Ovum Design. Ovum Design? Who thought this would be a good idea? Probably the same guy who put a little animated ovum in the site intro. Imagine the meeting:

The Idea Guy: Ovum. Like an egg. You know “hatching” ideas, “giving birth” to new concepts.

The Skeptic: I don’t know, doesn’t that sound a little odd? Like we’re naming our company after part of the reproductive process? It’s kinda… gross.

The Big Boss Man: Conception… Creation… You know, I like it.

Go to the site and watch the egg drop. But for the most amusing part, take a peek at the staff list: Jason, Kenneth, David, Grant, Geoff. Not a single ovulater among them.

3:01 p.m.

So, I’ve been collecting photos again. These people are working, playing, and fighting, but all of them look as though they’re dancing.













10:09 a.m.

The Sacramento News and Review has a short story contest every year. I think entries have to be under 52 words. I clipped this winner from several years ago, and came across it again today:

Choosing a Mindful Mate

She wanted to see how mindless people could be at a party. So she mixed Crisco, vinegar and assorted spices in an attractive pottery bowl and set it next to a basket of chips. It went as fast as the bean dip. Except one man deposited his mouthful into a napkin. This would be the man for her.

3:32 p.m.

People in the Neighborhood:

The guy three houses down from me has a big dog. Every time I pass, he nods toward the dog and says, “He’s friendly.” The first time, I didn’t think anything of it. Around the fifteenth time, I started to get uncomfortable. My theory is that my neighbor doth protest too much. At some point, that dog must have killed a small child or his owner wouldn’t be so insistent about how friendly he is. Friendly as in, “I just don’t understand why Cuddles ripped that woman’s arm off, he’s always been so friendly.”

2:19 p.m.

My cousin Ben makes a discovery about human nature:

“I have a Yahoo! email account and I was poking through my various settings and I ended up on my user profile page. One of the fields that people have the option of setting is Marital Status… Among the many choices was this one: Married but looking.”

2:50 p.m.

This may be a little worn by now, but I still find it endlessly amusing: Differences between male and female orgasms. (Thanks, Swen.)

1:45 p.m.

An autistic man walking in front of me:

“A cigarette butt on the sidewalk. A napkin. A straw.”

3:08 p.m.

I’m in love with Webvan. I know people throw the L-word around pretty lightly these days, so let me clarify: If Webvan had a penis, I would propose.

Webvan brings me flowers, wine, and quality ice cream in little round “this is quality ice cream” containers. Webvan never comes home with a can of smoked oysters and some salsa when I gave Webvan a list of the fresh produce I wanted. Webvan comforts me with ready-made meals after a hard day at work. As soon as Webvan can have sex with me, it’s a go.

Unfortunately, no matter what Dionysian wonders modern technology has in store, that day will never come. You see, Webvan is dying, and I think I know why:

A Brief Conversation With the Unenlightened Webvan Delivery Guy:

DG: Yeah, I work on the weekends, so Tuesday and Wednesday is my weekend.

Me: Hm. That’s kind of cool. You can do all of your errands without worrying about crowds or stuff closing early.

DG: Actually, you’d be surprised. The grocery store is always packed.

12:11 a.m.

Gift cards that aim to change your life perspective:

“Listen to me for a moment. Quit being sad. Can’t you see the blessings dropping around you like cherry blossoms?”

2 p.m.