We just got this new purse, and we're just so happy -- looking over at it we can see that we've managed to shove in two magazines, a catalog, a VHS tape, a library book and all our usual pursey crap. The fact that we can tote a hardback book and still look cute might herald in a new era of online reserve consumption, or at least get us to drag around more of our local independent bookstore purchases.

Jon just finished Jarhead, and liked it because it got into chafing. Why chafing? Because you would figure that the act of marching in 120 degree heat for 30 miles would cause not just a little chafing, but full-on paper-cut type chafing, and what he liked about Jarhead was that it was about that and more. It was the first book about war the he read that got into the daily grind of being not just a soldier, but a Marine and a Marine trapped in some stupid war being fought mainly for the benefit of a bunch of rich Kuwaiti sheiks. Swofford gets into how hellishly boring, full of both physical and mental pain, and piss-in-your-pants scary war can be. Jon really got the feeling of what it's like to be a Marine. What he didn't like was the Poor Man's Bukowski writing style. While he appreciated the general theme it gave the book, that of Jarhead as existential hero, it made it hard to follow. And he just wasn't that good at it. Still worthwhile reading, though, if only to make on thank God the draft was abolished.

Jer just finished the Jan. 16 issue of the New Yorker, which was pretty typical for an issue of the New Yorker. Of note to dorks like Jer are the magazine's opinions on Family Guy (and the ribbing that show gave the NY'er) and American Dad! Of note to SFists everywhere, one of the best pieces in this issue is about "the lethal art of Muay Thai" boxing, which spotlights San Francisco resident Bunkerd Faphimai, whose gym is down on Bryant Street.