Anthony: (coming in with that extremely thoughtful look on his face) You know... Really...
Me: (assuming this is House or Cricket or in some other way important) What?
Anthony: Really, they should be the Teenage Mutant Turtle Ninjas.
Me: ...what?
Anthony: Well, they're not mutant ninjas, are they? They're mutant turtles.
Me: It's a string of descriptors. Technically, there should be commas between each item in the list to indicate that all of them pertain to the subject at the conclusion.
Anthony: But the fact remains that the ninjas stands alone, while the mutancy pertains only to the turtles.
Me: Surely it should actually be a question of which element they most strongly identify with, that being the final descriptional tag to which all others relate. Do they see themselves as ninjas, with teenage, mutant and turtle elements? No, they are turtles.
Anthony: (nodding seriously) That's bullshit.

We watched The Times of Harvey Milk (documentary) last night, and it was really damn good, but I spent the last third of it being depressed, because thirty years later, California votes to ban gay marriage. Thirty years. Why does progress to enlightenment have to be like dragging people kicking and screaming through cement?



It fills me with rage that half of my acquaintance can say, "Oh, about time!" when Anthony and I announce we're engaged, like we've been dragging our feet on the predetermined path of coupledom. What about all those couples who aren't even allowed on the path?


Oh yeah, and Anthony and I are engaged.