flightless hag

A chronicle of the adventures of birdwoman: a lonely, talentless freak who wanders the internet in search of entertainment.

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I'm a 40-something married white female, survivor of weight watchers, avid reader of pulp. Dogs (not cats), extreme right (handed, not politics), ENTJ, alto, wanna-be knitter.

July 05, 2007

Anecdotal Evidence

I’m working from home today, and as a result, I’m able to listen to my local radio host’s morning show. He’s hit or miss for me – but today, he’s totally hit. He had an interesting interview of Ron Paul on there, and a poll on “do real men wear sandals?” for humor. But the latest section had my interest.

Why, of all the hybrid cars out there, is the Toyota Prius hands-down the best seller out there? Other hybrids struggle to sell. But the Prius consistently sells out. Is it because it’s the oldest one out there, so people trust the technology? Is it because the price is right? According to the article Michael Smirkonish was reading (sorry, I don’t have a link, he didn’t say where this article was), it’s because Prius buyers *want* people to know that they’re hybrid owners, and no other hybrid is easily recognized.

He equated it to the folks who wear the plastic bracelets a la Lance Armstrong.

Anecdotally, one guy called in who drives a ford hybrid of some sort. He said he drives the hybrid because of $$ - he drives more than 35k a year, so he’d have return on investment in two years. He picked the ford because he didn’t want people thinking he was a “tree-hugging granola-crunching greenie”, as he said with disgust.

heh

~~~~~

In other news, my boys are quite divided on the subject of girls these days. Tim has a new girl in his school and she’s “beautiful!”:

“Hew name ith Cathewyn and she hath pwetty haih. And she weath pink. I like huh,” he says with emphasis. (translation: her name is Catherine and she has pretty hair. And she wears pink. I like her.)

Sean, meanwhile, comes home chanting “Boys go to college to get knowledge; girls go to Jupiter to get stupider.”

The verbal gaffes continue – Stinky is fond of telling the Moth to go “play with himself" (with/by what a difference!) and the Moth, whenever Dad does a coin toss, goes around the house chanting “I get head!” (oh, one letter short, tim, don’t forget that “s”)!!

Life with Boys is never dull, nosiree.

(*)>

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