Today's e-mail from Borders is all about some stoopid Hannibal Lecter thing, but the part that squicked me out the most is the "Entertain the Lecter Way" cross-promotion section. (See above.)

Urk. I hate liver anyways. My parents always threaten to make it for dinner when I come to visit. Hi-larious, people!

In other news: Perhaps two heads are not better than one.

At Pub Quiz last night, often one of us had the right answer — Florida! Billy Zane! — but was talked out of it by the other three. This always happens, and we swear we're not going to doubt our first instinct, but then we always do and end up tied for sixth from the bottom. Sigh.

Of course, last night I said that I was going to switch up my dinner order, since that was obviously what was holding us back, but then when the Wicked Hot Bartender came over to do my bidding . . . I mean, take my order . . . I lost my mind and ordered the reuben out of habit. (So tasty!)

But, I gotta give Cathy props. When the question was "How many species of poisonous birds are there?" she pulled a pineapple: "Two." The rest of us, who apparently do not hang out in New Guinea as much as she does, insisted the answer was zero. She tried to sway us with arguments about bird flu, and said ... I forget exactly what, but it was some riff on funky chicken or diseased poultry. So I said, Is that the name of some new punk rock group the kids are into these days? And the WHB, who was clearing plates at the next table, overheard all this and cracked up. So, you know, that was nice.

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