The one with piscine crania

I have a coupla random things for you. And in my mind, and I'm pretty sure nowhere else, they're both related to Fish Heads, a wonderful novelty song from my (and Erin's) youth.



They can't play baseball
But maybe they can play cards. Paige and I have invented a wonderful game: FishWar! And it's certainly roly and poly.

You start out by playing Go Fish. Each time you successfully get a pair you add the cards to your pile. Then, once you've worked your way through the deck you use your piles as your starting hands for a game of War.

The strategy elements (having a pair of aces is good, having a bunch of 2s, 3s, 4s and such doesn't do anything for you) add a fascinating layer of complexity to your game of Go Fish and truly invest you in the outcome of your game of War.

You scoff only because you haven't tried it.

We're working on a drinking game version and will let you know when it's complete; for the basic version, patents are pending.

They don't wear sweaters.
But you know who does? Evo Morales, el presidente of Bolivia. We were sitting around the lunch table today and I opened a copy of The Economist to a picture of EM. He was just wearing a shirt, but I told Phil and Paige about seeing a recent press conference of his.

FIFA, the world soccer governing body, had decided that international matches could no longer be played at altitudes over 2500 meters. La Paz, Bolivia is at 3600 meters, and soccer's hugely important throughout South America, so it was a big issue. They called a special cabinet meeting, and at the ensuing press conference his cabinet ministers, wearing suits, lined up behind Morales, who was wearing jeans and this ugly sweater.

I described his sweater as something I wore in 1988 or so. And I'm not now, and certainly wasn't then, known for my fashion sense.

Turns out, he really likes the sweater. And I'm not the first to notice--I started laughing so hard I had trouble breathing when I saw that the BBC website had a slide show of him wearing it on normally formal occasions.

I've gotta tell Bad Sweater Guy about this...

Okay, tomorrow I leave for Greece. And I'll be home in 36 days, so if you have any ideas about what I should do with my life you could maybe let me know?

Eat them up yum,
sg