Gauntlet+Lint= Lintlet

Strange things happen on Twitter.  Well, strange conversations at least.

And even stranger, in my particular tweet stream, many of them seem to involve @StephStricklen.

Yep, our very own KGW Live @ 7 anchor.  She seems to attract strange conversations on twitter, and apparently this also extends somewhat to her blog.  She attracts people, well-meaning readers I’m sure, who peruse her blog on occasion and slam her for the dumbest shit.  For instance, one lovely chap complained – on her blog – that she should just stick to the news, and quit talking about other, non-newsy stuff.  On her own, pretty much personal, blog.
Her response?  She wrote a blog about lint.  Navel lint.  Yeah.  You rock, girl.

But of course  me, being who I am, gotta give her crap for writing a blog about lint.  LINT.  At which point she told me it was the safest of the topics that were suggested to her.

Well.  When you put it that way, I’d say lint was a safe bet after all.  And I alluded to the fact that now *I* wanted to write about lint.  To which she said if I wrote a post about lint, she’d totally read it.

Well.  The Lint Gauntlet has been tossed, my dear.  It has been tossed.  The Lintlet, if you will.

So first I had to figure out what kind of lint I would write about.

  • The dryer kind?  I have a friend, we’ll call him Mark, who has the nickname of Safety Warden.  Because of him, I’ve become a stickler for cleaning the lint tray after every drying cycle.  No thank you, scary dryer fire!
  • Or how about the navel kind?  I tend to collect very little, as a rule.  Strange, since I don’t have the protrusion issue that Steph is experiencing these days.  But this guy knows more about navel lint than you ever thought possible.
  • Perhaps you prefer the Lindt kind of lint.  They make those little Lindor truffle balls you see everywhere.  My fave is the hazelnut, in case you’re wondering.  I’d say that’s probably my favorite “Lint”.
  • For some reason, Lindt makes me think of Liszt: “Women fought over his silk handkerchiefs and velvet gloves, which they ripped to shreds as souvenirs. Helping fuel this atmosphere was the artist’s mesmeric personality and stage presence. Many witnesses later testified that Liszt’s playing raised the mood of audiences to a level of mystical ecstasy.” Which of course leads me to one of my favorite Bugs Bunny episodes (Oh?  I didn’t tell you I was a Bugs fan?  Yeah.  My secret’s out, crap), Rhapsody Rabbit, wherein Our Hero is playing Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody #2.   Phone rings.  “Eh, what’s up doc? Who? Franz Liszt? Never heard of him. Wrong number.”   Heh.  Of course, you’d have to know he was playing Liszt for that to even be remotely funny.

And with that, my Ode to Lint, and also randomness, is complete.