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I'm home late from a wild night o' Killer bunnies chez rubbrduckage.

A few folks have posted this point-counterpoint at Forbes. While one fellow relays the advice that men shouldn't marry a career woman, the woman behind the counterpoint advises women not to marry a lazy man.

Did I have something else I wanted to talk about tonight? I think I did. However, I'm feeling feisty/fussy/cranky, so I think I'll hit the hay.

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As far as low budget videos goes, this OK Go video is rather captivating to watch. Okay, maybe I'm weird that way. And yes, I was watching Stephen Colbert.

Here's a Tracy Grammer song I'm captivated by these days:

Gypsy Rose

my love is like a gypsy rose
wild is the only way he grows
out where the sweet july wind blows
he blooms over yonder

his voice is like a mountain stream
washes me clear, washes me clean
i walk along the banks serene
where he will wander

chorus
there is no hill high as the moon, no river deeper than the sea
no shooting star, reckless in flight burns in the night
wild as the love he gave to me
only the rain knows where he goes
thunder and me, ramblin with my gypsy rose

and on the day we were wed
up to the altar he was led
lay like a prisoner in my bed
oh, how we shivered

so i built a house to keep him in
guarded him from the sun and wind
but in the autumn he grew thin
in winter, he withered

there is no hill...

my love was buried in the spring
i see his face in blossoming things
one night i thought i heard him sing
down in the hollow

now it’s been thirty years and three
every night he calls to me
and for as long as i shall be
i know i’ll follow

there is no hill...