I Can't Complain

You Can't Have Cookies for Breakfast...

But you can havie Cookie Crisp!

People of a certain age (not me, of course, since I'm only 29) will remember this as the tag line for Cookie Crisp cereal in the late 70s and early 80s. The theme of the commercials was that a wizard would catch someone trying to eat cookies for breakfast, and magically turn them into "cereal" - part of a complete breakfast! 

It turns out, though, that good old Jarvis the Cookie Crisp wizard was WRONG. You can have cookies for breakfast.  I know this, because since the holiday season really got underway three or so weeks ago, I've actually had cookies for breakfast once or twice or *cough* six times *cough*. 

Somehow it seems like an awesome idea at 7:45 AM when I'm rushing around getting everyone ready to get out the door. "Let's see... for the Bomber, grapes, cheese, two all-natural cereal bars and an organic yogurt tube.  For me... um...six snickerdoodles!"

I'm here to tell you though, if you do eat six snickerdoodles, or a piece of fudge and three chocolate crinkles, or four pfeffernüsse and two pieces of some graham cracker-chocolate-caramel thing, or three peanutbutter cookies and a partridge cookie in a pear tree cookie, it will give you a lovely sugar rush.  It will not, however, make you even remotely able to sit in front of your computer and do research on the Architectural Barriers Act or the statute of limitations for collection of a debt owed to the city water utility.  

On the bright side, it may motivate you to spend 30 minutes watching old commercials on YouTube or give you a topic for a blog post.  So maybe cookies for breakfast aren't so bad after all!

He Slices, He Dices!

He can even cut through a tin can, and still eat a tomato. Or something like that....

This Christmas my mom got me Wii Sports Resort, which is sort of like Wii Sports, but with snootier games - instead of boxing there's swordplay, instead of baseball there's skydiving, instead of bowling there's...um... bowling.

Anyway, I was trying out the new game during the Bomber's nap on Monday, and when he woke up and came downstairs, I was in the middle of a fencing match. After watching a few rounds of it, and making "useful" suggestions like "Mommy, try to not get knocked into the water next time," he decided he wanted to give it a go. Being four, he already knows everything and did not want any instruction on how to play, so I loaded up his Mii, and handed over the Wiimote. 

To say he has an interesting fencing technique is something of an understatement. After a few rounds, I started calling it "the Ginsu." You really have to see it to appreciate it:

Amazingly, the Bomber Ginsu Technique works incredibly well.  Better, by far, than my strategy of, you know, trying to play as if I had an actual sword. Within a few rounds, he'd beaten all the competitors I'd already beaten, along with most of the ones that had knocked me off. By the end of the evening, Larry and I were both using the Ginsu technique and doing pretty well with it.

So, no matter what the back of the box propaganda claims, it's pretty clear that the Wii Motion Plus thingy required to play Sports Resort does not necessarily provide a "more realistic playing experience." And I'm guessing that means the "escapism of the game's tropical island theme" isn't going to be a substitute for an actual trip to the Caribbean. I feel so disillusioned.

Who Says There's a Recession?

This afternoon when I checked my work mailbox, I discovered a small box, about 9" x 7" x 2" in my slot. In fact, there was a similar box in every attorney's mailbox. It was from one of the bigger law firms in town, and It looked like this:

 

Since it's the season for holiday swag-giving (or would that be swagging), I was pretty excited, although I couldn't think of what I, along with every other attorney in my firm, had done to deserve swag from this other firm. But hey, I like swag as much as the next person, and far be it from me to turn down a bigger firm's largesse, so I hustled back to my office and opened it. Inside was this:

In caes you can't tell, it's a single 8.5" x 6.5" sheet of cardstock:

With a small plastic compass attached:

(Sorry for the crappy photo quality - my cameras are both dead, and my cell phone is an inadequate substitute).

Anyway, it's an invitation to a free continuing legal education course sponsored by the big law firm. That's it. (What does a small plastic compass have to do with continuing legal education? Damned if I know.)

So, is it me, or was that package just the teensiest bit excessive for what could have been done via a single sheet of 8.5" x 11" paper, a postcard or even an email?  What, do they have some funds they have to get rid of between now and the end of the year? It's like a box full of arrogant: Rescession, what's that?  We've got money TO BUUUUURN. Oh, and hey, environment, screw you, too! And the best part is, the course they're sponsoring is on professional responsibility. Ethics - you're doing it wrong.