Nerdrectifying Provocation, I Know

"I suppose this is our first sub-freezing evening," says the swank-a-dope on the classical station of the radio right now.

Perf.

Just a quick hello from the McBickelope (I mean the McBickelobe. The McBickers. The McBike. Whatever. I'm a she they tell me anyway).

I am about to begin work at the lovely midnight hour. But before I go, here's what I heard tonight on the subway from a man holding a bike made by Jeep to another man who wore a loud striped tie:

"I don't eat no red meat. No chicken, no. I don't eat no red meat. No swan."

No. Swan.

No swan, damn you! I will not eat that swan! Step away with that swan!

I know, I know, all swans belong to the Queen anyway. I know. Don't go getting all smarty-pants know-it-all Brightolonian on me. (Brightotopian. Brightorontian. Whatever. Anglofreaks, as way of explanation to my Canadian, Romanian and 'Merican friends.) Stephen Colbert calls that sort of chastising enjoyment a "nerdrection," and I see no reason not to nail you to the wall with that phrase if you start that "swans belong to the Queen" shit here. So watch it, Brightoflauntians.

Back to the beginning of work with me.