This is the mighty Cricket, Caitlyn's dog...a real sweetie, and in the same ballpark, dumbness-wise, as our pig/cat Picci!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
When driving through Virginia, there are road signs scattered all over where events of historical import happened, such as "On this spot, James and Dolly Madison first got to second base" or "It was under this picnic table that Dave Matthews first passed out reading a copy of Ishi, Last of his Tribe."
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
1.) Before a trip, pack a bag or satchel with various magazines, digital camera, books, phone chargers, etc:
2.) Incessantly refer to said container as the "Media Bag." As in:
"I went ahead and put the extra bag of Sour Patch Kids in the Media Bag."
"Buddy, would you get out my nicotine lozenges?"
"From your purse or the Media Bag?"
3.) Sit back and wait for various punches and pinches, and criticism that not every goddam thing on earth needs to be turned into a Thing or a meme, for Christ's sake (see also: bb guns)!
Don't just take my word for it! Get your own bag, or have your mother-in-law sew one, then bother YOUR spouse. Report back!
Also, DON'T forget to fill your bag with:
Monday, June 28, 2010
Lots and lots of pics from the fifty-five hour Virginia excursion, which will be scattered through the week's updates! Aren't you excited?
Anyway, here's a very Let's Active shot from a moving Ford truck. Yes, I know Let's Active were from North Carolina - what are you going to do, DENY it? I mean, look:
This bionic cat, right, that made the internet rounds over the weekend? I call BULLSHIT! Did they think I wouldn't notice the ever-subtle name, "Oscar?" When Oscar Goldman was the name of the gubmint agent who was responsible for making Steve Austin all bionic 'n' shit in the first place???
Methinks I smell a rat! And so does the bionic kitteh, as he gets his ravenous robot legs all over some mouse or other.
Anyway, I will continue to investigate this, tirelessly. Someone is profiting off this and I don't LIKE IT!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Imperial Bedrooms, a steaming pile, is only about 170 pages, to add insult to injury. So I'm taking it very slowly (twss). There's a weird blue Jeep that is watching Clay! Mysterious. Also, the universe imploded (did you feel it?) when Clay describes a horror movie about a "talking beanbag."
Pray for me.
Making a 54-hour dash to Virginia for a funeral, which means posting here will resume Monday. I know that many, many hundreds of thousands of you count on this organ [!] as your sole contact with the world at large...but there's a whole big universe out there, so there's scarcely a need to remain glued to your screen in hopes that I may share an iota of my accumulated wit and all-encompassing erudition [I started that sentence having no idea what it was going to say, and it really did turn out crummy!] while we are on the road.
Who knows what crap I will take pictures of, though? YOU ARE ALL BLESSED.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
It's been brought to my attention that our Caitlyn spells her name "Caitlin."
Nick Eddy Relents regrets the error, but it must be remembered that I am an old, old man nearing the end of my days and that we didn't even have the name Caitlin when I was a sprout.
We went to our li'l community board meeting last night (if that's what they called it) and the City Manager presented a powerpoint doohickey that covered deficits and city expenditures.
Mind=blown over the fact that the city of D_____ spends $400,000 annually making sure all vacant lots are cut -- once! Between gasoline, manpower, maintenance, etc. that is what it costs!
Now, at the corner of our street, there is a nice, old house/maybe-at-one-time-office sort of building, a nice grey-blue color. The grass has not been cut all year; it's up to my hips.
I asked the City Manager and the Mayor, then, if I were to go out and buy a sickle or scythe or borrow a Bush-Hog from some real man I might know, and just CUT down the grass I see around our neighborhood, couldn't I save the city some $$$?
They nodded and smiled and the CM actually gave a thumbs-up!
So, I intend to go to Ace or maybe even Harbor Freight and buy a scythe for fifty bucks, then roam the streets looking for out-of-control lots I could possibly hack 'n' hack. Then, I can learn to sharpen my old blade, sitting out on the porch, in the dark.
"Chee-lays! Bring me a glass of Vernors!"
I think that this should be the summer that we get a butler named Chiles, but then pronounce it "chee-lays", like the Spanish pronunciation of the pepper.
"Chee-lays! Another La Croix!"
"Yes, sir. Lemon?"
"No, Chee-lays. I think this time...orange!"
"Very good, sir."
It's now or never!