We've Moved

Hello dear readers!

We've got some exciting news!

Thank you for reading and we hope you've enjoyed our wit, drama, poetry, prose, recipes, philosophies, and random thoughts. We invite you to keep on reading our one hundreds at our new place. It's sleeker, sexier, and hopefully represents the maturity (yet playful childishness) we've come to achieve this past year and a half (my we're getting old).

So in sum:

New site!

Sexy layout!

Same concept!

Hundreds more words (does that even make sense?)!

Check it out at

www.Allof100.wordpress.com

Thanks again and see you on the other side!

Chris, Lara, Wyatt, and Michael

Cakes

Cakes are pretty weird.

We sculpt eggs-flour-whatever into a symbol that bears some connection to whatever the cake is a tribute to: an eagle for The Fourth, a basketball for the birthday of the friend who’s into sports, an alter for the newlyweds. We mix sugar-food-coloring-whatever to make a sort of ink that we use to write a message on top, just so we’re all on the same page. We gather around, sometimes we light ceremonial candles and sing the ceremonial song, and everyone knows the rules about who cuts and who starts eating when.

The Drama Of History

Up in the historical society, one of the docents started telling me about how he had translated one of Camus’ plays. He was a clean-cut, scurvy type who lived on a houseboat. Our conversation wandered, and when we were on the quandary of the socialists in the Russian Revolution who believed an assassination was moral but would not permit themselves to kill, he farted. Loud and dry. He began giggling. I was prepared to ignore it, but before long I was grinning, then giggling. Nothing was said, and the conversation resumed with more revolutionaries. We were best friends after that.