The one person you do not want as your opponent in a deadly manhunt

I've thought about this a lot over the years. Some celebrities you really believe you could take on, were you forced to play The Deadliest Game: Larry King, Bob Dylan, most comedians, the Pope, etc. I think I even stand a fighting chance against a few professional athletes, like gymnasts (they're tiny!) and golfers. 

Venus Williams, though, is not a person with whom I would willingly engage in hand-to-hand combat to the death. And neither would you, for the following reasons:

1) She is enormous. The woman is 6'1". If I stood on my dad's shoulders, we might make it to that altitude, but then Venus might be entitled to have Serena on her shoulders to make it fair, and we would still certainly die.

2) She is stunningly fast. Her legs are approximately 6 feet long (see "enormous," above). Her hunting me down would be like a greyhound chasing a corgi. 

3) She has stamina. I might try to run from her, and she might even give me a head start, but I would get tired within a mile. Venus Williams could hunt you day and night without rest. She would run alongside your getaway train, if you managed to snag one, until it stopped the next town over, and then she would get you.

4) She makes terrifying noises. It's one thing to be running through the woods with a giant, muscle-bound, physically superior opponent on your tail. It's another when said opponent is making noises you've only ever heard on Jurassic Fight Club before. As Gerard put it, being on the other side of the net (or ahead of her in the final run of your life), must feel like being a fish and hearing the shriek of an Osprey overhead. It is the sound of something better than you come to put you out of your misery.

Cleaning Day

Today is cleaning day. It's always interesting to see just how much filth you've been living in.

We have soap scum; that's a given, and I was prepared for it. I was not prepared for soap scum IN COLORS. I watch TV. I've seen the horror movie-lite commercials starring soap scum as a ravenous world-destroyer and bane of moms everywhere, and I've seen said soap scum depicted in a variety of ways: claymation, animation, very scientific microscope close-ups, but I've never seen it depicted in orange. Most of ours is very orange, though we do have some lovely blacks, greens and clear-ishes as well.

Never fear, dear readers -- I've eradicated the orange plague for now. Everything on our floor is another story, however.

Through some fault of mop, mop liquid or mop-handler, all the dirt, hair and flotsam that was once on our floor is...still on our floor, now stuck there under a shiny, tacky layer of cleaner. It's like the world's worst decoupage project, preserving all the elements of our life that we'd much rather forget.

This is what happens when I'm left alone with the dog for 5 days

It's refilling its bladder right now, so I have to be quick.

Just have to point out that I LOVE THIS WEB SITE: 

http://www.shopperschoice.com/index.html

"But thelaurenbell!" you may protest, "First of all, man have the Internets missed you! But also, that's just a shitty off-price furniture Web site! There aren't even cool graphics or ridiculous slogans! WHYYYY?"

Well, thanks, dear readers, and, yes, I know. However! A person with the will and the wallet to do so may buy a TIKI HUT on this site. Or more than one, in a variety of shapes and sizes. You could build a whole tiki village, filled with villagers and/or neighboring children paid off with ice pops in which to live out any and all of your tiki fantasies. 

This idea tickles me. As does the memory of a particularly stirring episode of the OC, in which Ryan builds a tiki sex hut on the beach for a night of (presumably awkward) passion with Marissa Cooper. God, I love that show.

Speaking of shows, here I have a segue about one: the other reason why I love this Web site is because they are selling a "Michael Scott" line of furniture. I like to think these simple wood-hewn pieces are meant to evoke the Michael Scott character from The Office (see! another show! segueeeeee). This, too, tickles me. 

Not having seen most of the latest season of The Office, I can only assume that these products are actually a bizarr-o commercial tie-in to an episode arc wherein Michael leaves the company to become a cabinet-maker. During commercial breaks, when they're telling you to read Dwight's blog and look inside Creed's fridge, they added a bit exhorting viewers to actually buy Michael's $800 tables. Good work, NBC. I am now going to search this site for electric mixers endorsed by Ben Linus from Lost. Because...I dunno, I was looking for other character names, but I really like the evil crazy that is Ben. Whatever.