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Because I am shameless, I am going to glom onto an idea started by the lovely Bunni, namely to identify whatever may be on the stereo or the telly while I pound away on yonder keyboard. (If you haven't been to Bunni's yet today, why are you here and not there? Go there! Now, now, now! You go there now!)

Without further ado:

Blogathon stats as of 11:15 a.m. (edt):

Currently listening to: John Zorn, One of the zillions of Masada albums whose titles I never get straight

This is a good moment for those of you who don't know Lloyd to be introduced. Lloyd is Mr. Bakerina, also known as Tech Support, Reason for Living, Keeper of All Media and That Guy Who I Keep Finding In My Bathroom. Since I'm ten minutes away from putting this up, I will not enumerate his charms right now -- that will be better kept for when it's the middle of the night, and I'm either coked out on Red Bull or weepy on the little bottles of vodka in the freezer -- but no less an expert than Bunni has described him as "professionally wonderful." (A clerk at the Upper West Side Lush store once asked me what my husband did for a living, and Bunni piped up, "He is professionally wonderful." Amen, sister.)

Anyway, after our Saturday morning cartoon viewing -- yes, really -- was over, Lloyd asked me if I wanted to listen to music. "Oh, yes!", I said. "Put on something raucous." I'm thinking Too Much Joy, the Ramones, KMFDM, even. I forget that Lloyd's criterion for raucous outstrips mine by a mile. But that's just fine with me. John Zorn once played a gig at which Madeleine Albright was in the audience, and he yelled at her and her companions for carrying on a conversation while the band played. That's my kind of raucous.

Currently eating:  Robert's American Gourmet's Chaos Chips & Pretzels combo, a/k/a "All the broken crap we couldn't include on our regular production runs."  Yes, it's junk food.  But it's yuppie junk food.