- Well played, Ellen and Portia. Well. Played.
- A male TV host wore the same suit every day for a year and no one noticed. I’ve conducted a similar experiment here at Poe Industries during this week’s artic asskicking. I’ve worn the same Uggs-yoga-pants-woolly-cardigan combo every day and so far, my co-worker and head of HR Petunia Potpie seems not to really care.
- November is Adopt a Senior Pet Month, so use this handy dandy Petfinder link to check out your nearest shelter and pick out an older pet. They’re already house trained, much lazier than some spry young up, and much more prone to lay around and cuddle with you. Sorry, Petunia’s already taken.
- As someone who lives only one metro stop from Reagan National Airport right outside Washington D.C., I was aware of some of the air restrictions that exist over D.C., but a nuclear facility near Amarillo, Texas. Who knew?? The fine folks at Mentalfloss, that’s who.
- Speaking of D.C., here’s a metro restaurant map from Thrillist. Much more fun than the regular station names of Judiciary Square and Metro Center.
- I’m Norwegian. Well, sort of. Like, from the way-way-way-way back. So I’m taking a lot of personal pleasure from the fact that, according to CityLab, “Norway’s New Passports Are Designed to Make Every Other Country Feel Inferior.” It is pretty sleek and elegant and gorgeous and I totally want one.
Since discovering my Norwegian roots, I’ve been on the lookout for news from my ancestral hjemland (that’s “homeland” in Norwegian. It appears that all that’s required to dominate Norwegian is adding a “j” somewhere in a normal English word, and swapping out a vowel.)
Interestingly enough, Norway was recently in the news. They just had an election, as a matter of fact. And apparently if I had any illusions of returning to the land of my Viking forefathers, well, I can just dritt og dra!
According to the Globe:
An anti-immigrant populist party laid claim to a major role in oil-rich Norway’s government for the first time on Tuesday after a centre-right alliance won a landslide general election victory to oust a Labour administration.
Anti-immigrant, you say? Hmmm. That doesn’t sound too good. Luckily:
In immigration, Norway’s hands are tied by international treaties, which limit its room for manoeuvre. The economy needs new workers as unemployment is less than 3 percent and a steady influx of migrants keeps the labour market from overheating.
Whew. Thank the Norse god Loki for those international treaties, ja?
I also came across this infectious little gem of a head scratcher by a pair of Norwegian variety show brothers, Bård and Vegard Ylvisåker.
Now, I know that this has been all over the Interwebs in the past week, but let’s be real: it isn’t really a thing unless I’ve commented on it. Am I right? High five! No? Leaving me hanging, huh? That’s fair.
Anyway, I love, love, love this video. All of it – the production values, the choreography, the costumes, the lyrics. The bit about the talking to the horse in morse code sends me into giggles. “An angel in disguise?” Peals of hysteria.
But I admit, the video made me pause and wonder: what the hell does a fox sound like?
Several years ago, my personal landlord-lover XFE and I actually lived in an apartment adjacent to a nature preserve. And there were indeed foxes in that preserve. We could sit on our tiny third-floor balcony and see them scurrying in the brush below us. It was a regular Jack Hanna: Northern Virginia edition up there. Probably don’t even need go on safari to Africa next year after all.
Sometimes, late at night, especially in the spring, we would hear, ahem, certain fox-friendliness noises, if you know what I mean. That noise was definitely canine-like.
But mostly they were pretty quiet and considerate neighbors. No “Wa-po-po-po-po-po-pow.” Maybe that’s because they weren’t Norwegian foxes.
Man, I hope insanity isn’t an ancestral Norwegian trait that maybe skips four generations or something.