Every paranoiac says that.

Sheila told me that Marcus asked her to change the password, but she wouldn’t, explaining that she liked the idea of forcing him to explain to his next girlfriend who she was.

“It feels like you digitally urinated on my territory,” Marcus complained.

“That’s because I did,” Sheila agreed.

Whenever I’ve been inside, my money’s disappeared; it simply vanished from my pocket. One time I lost five dollars, the next time I lost ten dollars. There may be pickpockets there, or it may be because the store was built on an excavated native burial ground. Who knows?

I’m not going back there; I now buy my dental floss at the store on the corner of Market Street and Sixth Street. All I have to worry about there are the rabid pigeons. That’s not a problem; most of them are too drunk to fly.

Something which has never occurred since time immemorial: a young woman did not fart in her husband’s lap.

Five-quarters of a century ago, though, Reuter knew what made for marketable news, and he spelled it out what needed to be reported, including, “fires, explosions, floods, inundations, railway accidents, destructive storms, earthquakes, shipwrecks attended with loss of life, accidents to war vessels and to mail steamers, street riots of a grave character, disturbances arising from strikes, duels between and suicides of persons of note, social or political, and murders of a sensational or atrocious character.”

Some things never change, and never will.

“I was traveling so fast that my troubles couldn’t keep up,” she explained. She didn’t mention the free drinks on the plane; she didn’t have to confirm the obvious.

Later, we watched Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau’s 1922 film, Nosferatu. I paused the computer after an old man in the film cautioned, “Do not hurry, my young friend, no one can escape his destiny.”

I was going to ask Sonja if that observation conflicted with her theory that modern airplanes travel faster than troubles. I didn’t say anything, though, since she was unconscious. Perhaps I’ll ask her in the morning whether her troubles or the alcohol caught up with her; perhaps I won’t.

The latest example involves a restaurant in China that decided to display its name in English as well as Cantonese. Or maybe Mandarin, I can’t tell the difference. The English language was apparently as confusing to the restaurant owners, who decided to use a computer-based translation service on the Internet. And thus the restaurant’s English name is Translate Server Error.

Nice!

I wonder if they serve saliva chicken?

Selena, who’s always been very gracious about my aural annoyances, tactfully passed along news from a 2006 study in the British Medical Journal. The researchers found out that subjects who practiced the didgeridoo for four months snored less.

I thanked Selena for the information, then pointed out the best sound from a didgeridoo is more unpleasant—and louder—than the worst snoring.