Thought of jpgray while reading a 2005 Ian Frazier article.

[swag]

http://delhibelly.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_delhibelly_archive.html

brief excerpt:


The brain has only so many slots, and by the time you reach fifty they have become cluttered and full. I'm sure most of us have a small place in our brains containing the following four items:

1. H. G. Wells
2. George Orwell
3. Orson Welles
4. Orson Bean

They cluster together through some unknown law of the synapses. The first two are easy to confuse because both are thirties-era, English, and science-fictiony (The Time Machine, Nineteen Eighty-four). The second and third blend because George Orwell and Orson Welles, as names, sound like made-up, roman-à-clef versions of each other. Also, Welles did a famous hoax radio broadcast of Wells's War of the Worlds, a confusing event in itself. And then you have Orson Bean, who is in there probably just to round out the conjugation, or through one of those comic mishaps he used to get into in his roles as an actor. Sometimes when I have a spare moment I take each name out, consider it, link it to the proper person, recall each one's face and biography, and then put all the names back in place in my mind. I believe this is a basically healthy exercise, like flossing.

[jpgray]

1. I want a fucking tuition refund

Guy did the -exact same fucking thing- again. At least there were a few snickers in the peanut gallery. And a few over-specific nouns in the cliche.

[swag]

2. Maybe he's doing it intentionally,

like in that interview where Mark E. Smith repeatedly referred to Courney Love as Courtney Pine.