Only three brown potatoes in plastic.
Bad green tubers burden a black store bin.
Hot garlic sauce gnomes are nicely caustic.
The alchemist's grape is now an orphan.
I watched the second episode of Arakawa Under the Bridge with breakfast to-day. Supposedly it's a seinen (for older men) series, though it feels josei (for older women) to me, not only because there's very little fan-service and the female lead wears a shapeless jacket over small breasts, but also because the whole show seems to revolve around flattering the vanity of the female lead. She's a social misfit, but obviously better adjusted than the hapless male lead and is surrounded by quirky, attractive, platonic male friends. But on the other hand, it all feels a bit like elaborate role playing therapy for the high strung male lead. Like so many male leads in anime nowadays, he kind of annoys the fuck out of me--he's another quivering jelly, completely inhibited guy in a fantasy world where a beautiful girl he likes casually throws herself at him. I don't know how people don't lose their patience with these guys.
And I finally got around to watching the second episode of Caprica last night. Which wasn't bad--the girl trapped in the cylon body is a really cool storyline in itself, and I'm enjoying the generally low key quality of the show, though I'm still unimpressed by the doggedly un-alien, downright extraordinarily homogenous, quality of the alien world and culture. But I love all the fedoras and the women wear really cool shoes.
I still have more to say about War and Peace, but I don't have time to go into it to-day. And I'm feeling a bit dopey to-day for no apparent reason. I started reading The Odyssey last night and was amazed when my Kindle told me I was 2% through the book after just twenty minutes. I downloaded three copies of The Odyssey before I hit on one that didn't translate the Greek gods' names into their Roman versions or turn Zeus into "Jove". Which was a little mind-blowing--I'd think ascribing the actions of Zeus to Jehovah would be more sacrilegious than to print narrative exaltations of a pagan god. It's amazing how religious manners can still surprise me.