Sexy Music Showdown

So, from the ultimate in the spouse wars category, the wife and I have started https://www.facebook.com/SexyMusicShowdown">Sexy Music Showdown
. We're having quite a bit of fun with it, but there are certain complications that arise on occasion.
Today's category was "Predict a song the other would find sexy." I decided to go with Faith Hill - Breathe, so I win. She...had a bit more trouble finding a song.

Quoth the Space Monkey: "I'm trying to find music you would think is sexy...and it's making my face hurt!"

She settled on Bon Jovi - Born to Be My Baby. She's good...with my help she could be better.

Rule the World Redux

On this, the day of my birthday celebration (observed...the real thing is Tuesday), I thought it might be nice to start blogging again. At least mini-blogging (which is more than micro but less than macro...so, just...blogging?).

The Space Monkey went into the kitchen just a few minutes ago and started singing, "Welcome to your life...." This caused her to pause, turn and glare at me through the kitchen wall.

"Great! Now I'm gonna have that song stuck in my head because of you."

It's true, she talks with links.

My work is done here.

Amnesty

I am a New Jersey Devils fan.

And I support Steve Bernier.

It is my hope that any other Devils fans who come across this post will be able to say those same two sentences with me.

I've had time to think. I've read the reports, how his teammates, his coach, and his GM told him they didn't blame him. I've heard his explanation that answered my incredulous initial question when I saw his hit on LA's Rob Scuderi in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals: "What was he thinking?!"

And I debated how I felt about that.

Then I read how Bernier felt about the fan support on returning to Newark, and I realized something vitally important that I would encourage all Devils fans to remember.

We're too good not to forgive him.

To Absent Companions

Pyrrhic Victory

So, when I said one blog post per week, apparently I meant one blog post per quarter.

Over the months, the Space Monkey and I have had this on-going argument about her keeping her feet up on the dashboard. I'm not a fan, not because of her feet but because of toe-prints on the windshield and how they make that sector of the windshield virtually useless at night.

And because of the potential she might accidentally crack the windshield.

Like this.

The Sugar Packet Diaries: Home Invasion

So it's March now. After 121 days straight of blogging, I've decided to slow down. From now on I think I'll try to focus on one or two quality posts a week.

Last weekend we went out of town, as I've previously discussed. When we returned home, the following took place on Facebook.

In case you're wondering, the Treacherous House-Sitter is also the Defense Against the Language Arts Teacher.

Driven

Yesterday, as I drove to work, I thought about all the construction in Northern Virginia and the progress they're making on it near where I work. I thought, "I wonder what this will look like when this is done." Then I realized something.

It'll never be done.

Source: Cracked

It's not that that particular construction zone is like the construction on the Baltimore Beltway that no one ever seems to see taking place. I've seen them working on it. They're almost done by the looks of it.

With the part they're working on right now.

Catatonic

It's Tuesday and the wife is sick. I also learned something 'interesting' (in the Chinese proverb way) at work today.

So, for tonight, I give you cat body language.

When Sales Tax Attacks

I'm still looking for that rez even though we're back home now. So no long post today. Just this little surprise courtesy of the city of Lynchburg, VA.

That is not a typo.

I was so stunned, I looked it up. The Commonwealth of Virginia has a 5% sales tax. Lynchburg has an additional 6.5% sales tax! That's on all items, by the way. Once I was aware of it, I began looking at all of my receipts including the hotel receipt.

If my city ever thinks of something this vile, I might run for office.

Silent Sunday

Shoe Coffee

I said I'd provide more details today about the horrors of driving, but, alas, I'm still seeking a mender (WTB! PST! KTHXBAI!). Then I looked at the clock and realized it was 1 a.m. and decided I should push something I was going to save for later this week.

There was a piece of plastic from a coffee cup on the leg rest in our hotel room Saturday. I said it was definitely not ours.

Pictured: definitely not ours.

Evil Space Monkey: "No, that came out of my shoe, remember?"
Oracle of Truth: "Why was there a piece of coffee cup in your shoe?"
Evil Space Monkey: "I don't know. I blame you."
Oracle of Truth: "I do not drink coffee from shoes."

And that's why I'm the Oracle of Truth, boys and girls. Where she wants to weigh down the facts with blame, I cut right to the heart—the kernel, if you will—of the matter, and unveil the Truth™.

Also, I had nothing to do with that thing. I can't remember the last time I had coffee from a black-lidded cup.

Dead and Loving It

I believe I previously recounted the lack of sleep I incurred on Wednesday night. Last night I managed even less.

Today was PFC Brother-in-law's USMC graduation. Last night I went to bed around 1 a.m. and fell asleep close to 2 a.m. One of my other brothers-in-law and his friend arrived half an hour later to crash in our room. I managed to fall back asleep around 4:30 a.m.

His alarm went off futilely at 5 a.m. Mine went off at 5:15. Other than a 20 min. nap I caught while they were at the MCX, that's pretty much all the sleep I got.

Which isn't a problem if you're not driving 7.5 hours afterward.

Which I was.

Needless to say, I died in a fiery-deer-activated flaming wreck on the way to VA.

I concur.

I'll provide more details tomorrow after I find a healer for a rez and a mender to fix my gear.

Automotive Archnemesisery

No, I don't think it's a word either.

In accordance with prophecy, we drove down to Parris Island last night. By we, I mean I drove the whole way and the wife got to sleep some. After we arrived, we had about a half hour downtime, during which my body decided it would have none of that, and I was forced (by my body) to sleep instead of going to family day to congratulate my brother-in-law.

I'm told in retrospect it was the right decision because of the back pain others incurred. Apparently Marine Corps boot camp is hard on everybody in proximity.

While driving down, we made remarkably good time, hitting no traffic, which is a borderline miracle when going around DC. Right after we got back on to I-95, though, I felt the car kick as the tachometer showed a jump of about 500 rpm suddenly at around 65 mph.

This displeased me.

The darned car has been stalking me, waiting until I was vulnerable before striking. Shortly after our first stop in Roanoke Rapids, NC, it kicked again and the Service Engine Soon light came on.

Three-hundred sixty-one miles short of my destination.

WT* Wednesday

Normally, I would do this as Wordless Wednesday (if that sort of thing were possibly for a wordfiend like me). This picture, however, requires commentary.

I don't...understand....

Over the weekend, during my recent car troubles, I was trying to figure out where to find the camshaft position sensor on my car. So I started to type "Where to find (camshaft position sensor on a 2006 Nissan Sentra)." I just happened to stop after typing "Where to find" and this came up.

For the record, I have never searched on prostitutes in Baltimore before. Not only am I not that sort of person, but, seriously, Baltimore routinely leads the country in syphilis.

Also, I don't play Skyrim.

Anyway, it's times like these that I wish Autocomplete Me were still a full-on site.

Somnambupocalypse

Over the past week, I have learned from my dreams that I am apparently an anarchist extremist living in a college dorm while working on his Ph.D. The former is directly attributable to taxes while the latter is apparently a demonstration of the phenomenal cosmic power of pizza.

Now that I mention it, there's a pretty good pizza place in the town in which I went to college....

But I digress.

My wife has asked why she hasn't been in my dreams, to which I responded:

Seems legit.

My most recent dream is making me think there may be something to this whole aliens thing.

Trunk Junk: An Automotive Postscript

The Service Engine Soon light has not returned today, so that's a good sign. We also failed to get a single millimeter of precipitation from the supposed big winter storm that was to hit our area last night.

Which is an annoying sign.

Emboldened by my recent auto repair, I decided on a whim to attempt another feat of car fixerry. For years now we've had a problem with the trunk of the car, in which holding down the automatic trunk release button on the keychain had no effect. I noticed recently that it at least made a sound, so I decided to check it out. Here are the results.

You know that thing they say about mechanics trying to rip you off? Apparently it's true.

Fermented Anger: An Automotive Saga

Sometimes when people learn that I'm a professor or get to see me display my professorial knowledge they'll comment something to the effect, "Wow. You're so smart."

And they manage to say it without seeming sarcastic, which is weird.

Since my job is to try to teach people something they all think they can't learn (another language), I often point out to them that it's not so much that I'm smart as that I am better educated in a specialized field.

Even if I'm smarter than most of them.

I say all of that to lead to this fact: I am a complete idiot when it comes to cars.

This is what the guys at Advance Auto Parts see when I come in.

When I was in 11th grade, my high school had us take the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB). At the time, I knew even less about tools like wrenches or the fabled socket wrench than I do right now. I would not be surprised if I said they were some kind of screwdrivers.

The military told me to be a social worker.

Tears for Fears

My wife and I went to Advance Auto Parts today because we hate happiness. Since I didn't want to burn myself working on the car, we went to the Five Guys next door to have lunch. While we were eating, we noticed that most of the songs played were completely unfamiliar to us.

That is when they played Tears for Fears "Everybody Wants to Rule the World."

This was the highlight of my day so far.

Yes...it's been a rough day.

My Life with the Suicide Car

The check engine light in my car came on today. This made me cross.

I'm totally taking my business to Burger King then.

The incident occurred just before I dropped the Space Monkey off at work. My mood regarding this was not aided by the part where she shifted the car into neutral at a stoplight.

Date Night, Adjunct Style

It may come as a surprise to those who know me that Valentine's Day is not my favorite holiday. Wait...there's a word missing from that sentence. 'Not!' That's the word.

It may not come as a surprise to those who know me that Valentine's Day is not my favorite holiday. See, I prefer to love my wife every day of the year.

Speechless (because I'm lame).

It's not that I'm incapable of romance or smooveness. I have a story or two I could tell, but that would be bragging.

Also, Tuesday is a stupid day for a holiday.

Pizza is a Strange Mistress

I don't know what I've been eating this week, but I've got another dream to talk about today. I mean, obviously, I know what I've been eating. I had pizza for dinner last night.

Possibly an explanation.

That would normally suffice except this dream came at 10 a.m. today (Tuesday is a stupid day), a full 11 hours after I had pizza. So...

Delusions of Anarchy

Last night, I went to sleep very late. This tends to happen on Monday nights for some reason. I ended up having a lucid dream in which, for some reason, I was an anarchist extremist.

I was hoping I wouldn't have to wear a tie.

Yes, for some reason unbeknownst to me, my libertarian tendencies were somnambulantly extrapolated to a surprising degree. In this dream, I decided to act on this fervent extemism to reform the American government...

...by doing something in Eastern Europe?

Fail Like I Do

Tonight, we were playing Mario Kart Wii as is our wont. I have frequently used the phrase "Welcome to Fail-So-Hard University, where failures go to fail so hard" while playing Mario Kart Wii against my wife.

In case you don't get the allusion, BmoreBirdsNest

Behold the Meal: Luxurious Po' Boy

Normally when I post a recipe here, it's my own. Today's recipe, however, comes from my poor ailing wife. She decided to make a sandwich out of last night's leftovers. Also, for once, we have a vegetarian option.

I'm not sure you can call it a Po' Boy when it's got brie.

Ingredients
Carnivore option: (leftover) chicken
Vegetarian option: (prepared) artichoke hearts
Optional vegetarian option: Extra-firm tofu, in thin strips
Spinach, chopped
Brie, cut in thin strips
Bread (we used Pretzel Bread)
Bread dipping oil (or olive oil with pepper and herbs)

WIS-WhaSH: Paging Dr. Dettweiler

Hello, Neighbor. Welcome, once again, to another episode of What I said; what she heard.

Her: "I can't go."
What I Said: "You should probably see a doctor about that."
Her: "Did you say, Dr. Dettweiler? Who's Dr. Dettweiler?"

What I Said: "You beat me (at Mario Kart Wii) again. Like a rented redheaded stepchild."
Her: "Like a rancid redheaded stepchild?"

Me: "...Yes, sweetie. Exactly."
Her: "Do they not...let them wash?"

Home Alone

So this happened last night.

100 Days of Blogging

One hundred and two days ago, this blog did not exist. It was created so I could participate with my wife in NaBloPoMo. Since its creation at the beginning of November, I have written a blog post almost every day with one exception, which I followed up with two posts in one day. Yesterday's post was my hundredth.

It may please some to know that I have been thinking for the past day of how to form an English word meaning "100 days." Something in the category of 'centennial' but for days instead of years. The closest I've been able to figure is 'hekatemeral' (from the Greek 'hekaton' meaning "hundred" and 'hemera' meaning "day").

Apparently I shall have to coin that word.

As I performed a hekatemeral review, I found that my favorite humorous posts were probably the first seven posts I made. Apparently I'm just funnier when talking about my health, my wife, and my niblings, particularly when it has to do with how my wife or my niblings will ruin my health.

Mocking me as they do so.

WIS-WhaSH: Ellicott City Jaguars

Before I ever started this blog, one of our original ideas was to feature occasional cases of me saying something and my wife misunderstanding it. You see, her hearing's going because of all the country music and NPR that she listens to, so this happens quite often.

Today, the topic "With what team will Peyton Manning end up?" came up on the radio. 

(WIS) What I said: "Maybe he should just go to Kansas City like Joe Montana."

(WhaSH) What she heard: "Maybe he should just go to Ellicott City like Joe Montana."

Ellicott City, MD: Home of the...um...Tree Huggers? (Google Maps)

When I told her what I had actually said, she explained her mishearing to me with the comment, "I was gonna say, 'Why?'"

Now, the No Fun League's Jacksonville Jaguars have been rumored for a long time to be heading to another city, presumably Los Angeles. My wife and our friend Isolde are the only two actual Jacksonville Jaguars fans I've ever met, so on the rare occasion I'm feeling mean, I tease them on this.

Quoth I: "Because the Jacksonville Jaguars have decided to move their franchise, not to Los Angeles, but Ellicott City, MD, so they can be closer to their fan base."

I'm not entirely sure how they'd feel about that.

Stream of Unconsciousness

Tuesday's always a long day, and evil men have made it longer. I don't have anything funny on my mind and a tragic lack of pictures on the phone to share.

This is most indecorous.

Which is a word too sophisticated for my phone.

There are over 170,000 words in the English language and dog may be two of them.

On Friday, I began application to a Ph.D. program. Though I have been promised 1500 to 2000 pages of reading per week for the next half decade or so, I am less intimidated by the program than by the application process.

I don't want to dog it after all.

Our Happy Place

Whenever we feel down—which is unfortunately frequent recently thanks to evil people—we look to our happy place. Our happy place just happens to be occupied by a cat whom we adore tormenting.

I took video of us doing this to him on Friday and he actually fell off the couch (on to the seat of it)...5 seconds after I stopped recording.

Halftime Entertainment

As the crowds gathered and the 4th seal was peeled away, something inexplicable happened in Indianapolis tonight: Madonna performed the halftime show.

I will confess that the late January football game halftime show stopped being relevant to me after 1993's performance by Michael Jackson. It became much more irrelevant after Janet Jackson desecrated American eyes with what appeared to be Michael Jackson's face under her shirt. That singular act sent us into halftime show oblivion as the No Fun League trotted out acts old enough sometimes I felt my parents would have to ask their parents for information.

Last year, as the league scoured whatever flea market they find used performers at, they somehow managed to find a band from the aughts that had already managed to become irrelevant.

Apparently Nickelback was unavailable.

Full of Gas

I don't like to talk politics, like ever. However, I felt compelled the other day to make this poster.

The lapel pin was my wife's idea.

During his State of the State speech, our governor asked our legislature to raise the gasoline tax. That's not a typo up above, either. He's looking for an $.18/gal increase.

Friday Night Feline: Daisy the Indignant

The other day, as I got up from the couch, I tossed a cushion on to the recliner. I didn't realize there was something occupying the recliner.

Something angry.

Shakespearean Thursday: Three Little Pigs

A co-worker shared this video on Facebook. I liked it so much that I decided I'd share it here.

Pretzel Bread Stromboli

Last year, I took my wife to Gettysburg for her birthday, where we ate at a pub that served a ham and cheese on pretzel bread sandwich. I thought this sounded like a great idea, so I learned to make pretzel bread myself.

Recently, the Airport Llama posted that a winter stromboli was coming my way. I like stromboli, as in real stromboli. I know I'll be judged for saying this, but the stuff they sell at Sbarro's is stromboli. There are pizza shops masquerading as pizzerias that sell something they call stromboli but is, in fact, a calzone without sauce.

I found a recipe for stromboli and decided to combine it with the recipe for pretzel bread. Here's the result.

Talkless Tuesday: Wifi Surprises

Came home tonight and noticed this in the local Wireless Networks.

The Hand

I think I may have discovered the reason The Minion Underfoot does things to wake us at night.

The Hand Knows Where He Sleeps

Potty Policies III

When I was a senior in high school, I entered into an alternate dimension.

Our school was going on a trip to Pensacola, FL, which was about a 20-hour drive. We stopped around 9:30 at night for dinner somewhere in I don't know where. I simply remember that at 9:30 at night, Denny's was closed but Subway was open.

True story: a Google Images search for "Denny's open all night" turned up this image (Mud Bay Blog)

From that night on, my life has been one bizarre mystery after another apparently.

Potty Policies II

A friend posted this on Facebook today, and I thought it well explained my confusion expressed in my original post.

Chicken Subs

I was hoping to have some video of The Minion Underfoot going ape because there's a cat out on the back deck. Sadly, I broke up the altercation before I realized video of it would be intriguing to share.

Instead, I give to you another recipe I made tonight. Originally, I was going to deem it a Chicken Philly, but then I realized that might lure someone from Philly to claim it wasn't. So I'll simply tell you what I cooked and you decide.

Ingredients
2 boneless chicken breasts, thawed
Adobo seasoning
2 slices mozzarella
1/2 white onion, chopped
1 bell pepper or 3 mini bell peppers, sliced
3/4 cup chicken broth
2 tbsp olive oil, divided
2 hoagie rolls, cut for sandwich and buttered
Garlic bread powder

Adorability

Full of adorable.

Corned Beef and Rice Redux: A Pictorial Love Story

This time, I remembered to take pictures throughout the process of preparing my corned beef with rice.

The Finished product, wife's serving.

Talkless Tuesday: Das Katzenhaus Evidence

IP over Avian Carriers

The Space Monkey and I were watching TV night when the subject of carrier pigeons came up. She thought she recalled that homing/carrier pigeons were extinct or nearly extinct. I didn't think so, so I looked it up. Then I came across this:

The humorous IP over Avian Carriers (RFC 1149) is an Internet protocol for the transmission of messages via homing pigeon. Originally intended as an April Fools' Day RFC entry, this protocol was implemented and used, once, to transmit a message in Bergen, Norway on April 28, 2001. 

In September 2009, a South African IT company, based in Durban, pitted an 11-month-old bird armed with a data packed 4GB memory stick against the ADSL service from the country's biggest internet service provider, Telkom. The pigeon named Winston took an hour and eight minutes to carry the data 80 km (50 mi). Including downloading, it took two hours, six minutes, and 57 seconds for the data to arrive, the same amount of time it took to transfer 4% of the data over the ADSL. —Wikipedia

Wait...what?

Dominical Double-Down: Going Medieval

The reason I failed you yesterday is that I went to an SCA event yesterday. What's the SCA? It stands for Society for Creative Anachronism.

The SCA is an international organization dedicated to researching and re-creating the arts and skills of pre-17th-century Europe. Our "Known World" consists of 19 kingdoms, with over 30,000 members residing in countries around the world. Members, dressed in clothing of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, attend events which feature tournaments, royal courts, feasts, dancing, various classes & workshops, and more. —SCA Website

In other words, we're epic geeks.

Dominical Double-Down: Ice-Road Drivers

It is with tears in my heart and sadness in my eyes that I must confess I missed posting yesterday. So in order to provide you, my loyal readers, with the bloggage you so desire, I am doubling down today. First...

Source: Rhode Island Department of Transportation

While we didn't get that much snow and ice Friday evening, we got enough to leave about an inch of icy snow on top of all vehicles. The picture above is an example provided by the Rhode Island Department of Transportation (because Maryland's DOT would probably just tell you about some kind of innovative new ice tax they're levying for your benefit) of what not to do.

IMMD

I don't have anything funny to share today, just something that made my day.

The Spring Semester began on Tuesday, and one of my college students wasn't in class. I sent an e-mail to his school e-mail address, but got no response. He wasn't there again on Thursday, so I despaired of seeing him in class this semester.

As I was organizing my school e-mail account today, I found his personal e-mail address, which he had used to contact me last semester. So I sent him off a revised e-mail letting him know that I missed him in class, and how he could still join us.

Around 6:45 tonight, he called me and said that he had withdrawn from all of his classes this afternoon. Then he received my e-mail and changed his mind about my class. He said, "You reminded me that you were the professor who cared and who I could work with." So he's coming back to my class.

It made my day.

Corned Beef and Rice: Mark II

We had guests over tonight, so I decided to make corned beef and rice...because I can.

I had planned to take a picture of the completed product, but that was all a blur. So all I have is a picture of leftovers.

Wordless Wednesday: SOPA Edition

For more information, click here.

Talkless Tuesday: Frozen Follies

What the...?

Pork Tenderloins

I go back to work tomorrow, so I spent today not being funny. I did, however, make delicious dinner, and I decided to share those with yous.

Phantom Begging

When I was doing my internship several years ago, I went in one day wearing all black with a VeggieTales tie. I explained that I was dressed this way so people might not notice I didn't own an iron.

The next time I came in, two different women gave me new irons.

Impressed with my success, I went in again a few weeks later dressed the same way and explained that I did not have any living room furniture.

A couple donated their old living room furniture to me.

I debated trying it one more time and letting everyone know I didn't have a 46" HDTV.

Sometimes, when I game...I ask higher level players for their swords too.

The Lamentation of the Women

What is best in Mario Kart?

Also strangely true on the Capital Beltway.

If you've never played Mario Kart before or seen Mario Kart being played, then you need to understand. If the Dalai Lama, Gandhi, Confucius, and Nelson Mandela were put into the same metaphysical room and made to play it, the Dalai Lama and Gandhi would be throwing their Wiimotes in frustration while Mandela laughed and Confucius asked them how it tastes.

It's a little intense.

Potty Policies

There's a question that's been bothering me for over a year now, and it's tragically related to bathroom etiquette. Never in my life have I come across this problem before, but I started noticing it first with my wife and then with our tenant and now with my wife again. Let me show you.

Observe the toilet paper not on the toilet paper holder. Ignore the duck.

The problem I've noticed is that when one roll ends, both my wife and our former tenant, the Airport Llama, leave the empty tube on the holder and use alternative methods to support the new roll.

This has happened often.

Frozen Feminine Hygiene Follies

I will start this post by saying something that's going to please my friend, the Simple Lemming. Today I found myself looking in my fridge for feminine hygiene products.

Look for it in your frozen food section.

This is what my life has become.

The Cat in the Purple Tulle Bow

Because I couldn't figure out how to rhyme 'tulle' with 'cat' in a satisfyingly Seussian manner.

The Sugar Packet Diaries: Lip Gloss is a Girl's Best Friend

So I'm up past my bedtime to give you, my loyal followers, some joy.

I bet you're thankful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another reason I'm up past my bedtime is Blogger's being funny about video uploads, so I had to upload this to YouTube first. Meh.

Das Katzenhaus: Meditations on a Cherry Blossom

When the cold months dwindled away and the One began to open the blinds in the largest room to let in light, Diego discovered the beauty of the world outside his home.

Different room and season, but I never tire of this picture.

Das Katzenhaus: The Black Fabric Saga

On of Diego's favorite things about his new home was that the soft chairs had black coverings. In particular he loved the chair that could only seat one person.

If you sit in this chair and then go outside...dogs will chase you.

Best of all, the One never disturbed him when in this seat or tried to steal it.

Das Katzenhaus: Bad Touch

The days continued to pass into weeks and months since Diego had been brought to this new home from his old one. Gone was the cage, the other cats, the lack of attention. The One—as there was only one who was always with him—gave him as much or as little attention as he desired. And there was even a sufficient mouse problem to keep him occupied.

A strangely persistent mouse problem.

Das Katzenhaus: Origins

In the beginning there was Andrew.

At least, that's what the people who fed him called him. He was all right with this, although his world was a cage that separated him from others like him.

But none were like him.

People like the ones who fed him would come by often and play with the others, but not with Andrew. He lived in his cage with his food and his bed.

He was comfortable with this.

One day, three people came by like normal. Andrew thought nothing of this since they always played with the others.

This group was different though. One of them pointed at Andrew. The people who fed him opened the cage and picked him up. He was placed in the One's arms and began to sense there was something yet more different about him. Although another played with one of the babies nearby, this One insisted on keeping Andrew.

He was placed in a different cage now and taken away from his home.

To a mysterious new world.

The One and the others let him out of the new cage. Timidly, he stepped forward into this new world. There were no others like him there. There were no cages. The floor was soft and there were wide open spaces. The One and the others watched him intently, but he didn't notice. Instead he crept forward inquisitively, casting his eyes and nose about. One paw after another, he crept away from the cage and around a corner.

There he found a new shelter.

It became clear to him over the next few hours that his name was apparently no longer Andrew. He wasn't certain, but he thought his name might now be, "Please come out."

He stayed in that place for hours until the hands had stopped reaching for him and the light had become darkness. When the sounds had mostly subsided, he crept forth slowly, nosing about and smelling the new smells in the new places.

Two of the others came over, one scooping him up while the other sealed up the place he had just been. They took him to another room and began to pet him and brush him and put him at ease.

The next day he learned a new word. His new name.

Diego.

Out of Funny

I'm out of funny for the day.

And I do feel bad about that.

The lesson learned is that I clearly need to write these earlier in the day. Until then, XOXO.

The Evil Dubstep Spirit of Hockey

The following really did happen.

Cookie Monster was unavailable for comment.

Where do I begin?

The Get Off My Lawn Chronicles: Part V

I'm all dried up on funny today for some reason.

Probably has something to do with Mario Kart.

I'll be starting a new series tomorrow or the day after, if'n I can get my motivation going. The only reason I went with The Get Off My Lawn Chronicles for today is that it is yet another holiday week, and the same neighbors have put their recycling out a day too early.

Which is in accordance with prophecy.

Corned Beef and Rice

True story: before we started dating, I had never had traditional (Irish-style?) corned beef; my wife had never had Hispanic-style corned beef. There is a difference!

Like the part where it comes in a can (Goya Corned Beef via Wegmans)

The amusing thing about this is that when we would start talking about how much we like corned beef, she was thinking of a brisket while I was thinking about a stew/sauce.

Resolutely Irresolute

Last night we had a New Year's Eve get-together, because that's what people do. Nary had our friend the Comedy Llama arrived when the D.A.L.A. started tearing the Llama's clothing off.

Because it was highly reflective.

Granted, all I'm talking about here is an airport runway vest. She still had her uniform coveralls on. Why? What did you think I was talking about?

Perverts.