If it wasn't unseasonably warm for November (where is my SNOW?), I wouldn't have the problem I just caused, which is to say, I went to pull the chain to turn the ceiling fan on in markgritter's and my bedroom, and I grabbed the light chain instead. And pulled it completely out, thereby darkening the bedroom. Umm. I poked in there with a flashlight and can't see where to reinsert the chain; something snapped, so it may just be impossible. Well, I can get another fixture tomorrow, but it was not originally on my agenda.
Life is like that: suddenly you find yourself searching the aisles of Home Despot for something that doesn't look like a giant breast, and all you can do is laugh at yourself and hope the mini-donut truck is at Home Despot tomorrow. Even though it's only ever been there once. Because, y'know, it could happen. They have successfully convinced me that mini-donuts are possible, so that it's my third thought after "how clumsy of me" and "oh dear, row upon row of giant light-up mammaries."
None of this has anything to do with matociquala's hat or stillnotbored's photography, but one needs an icon for plunder, or borrowed plumage, reflected glory, or...stuff. I'm sure Stuff will come up.