Right. Ok. I promise. I’ll cool it with the animal posts. This is getting out of control.
Right after this:
Oh my Godfry Jones. Animals in casts.
Just stomp on my heart a little more right now, why don’t you?
OK. No more animals. For a while. I promise…
… to try
You are a dog named Snowdrop. You wander into a cemetery. Zombie kittens proceed to approach you with the “assumed” purpose of eating your brains. Thusly, you proceed to unleash destruction upon them with your Dog-matic Mortar Cannon.
Huh.
I have a problem with the underlying thesis behind this “game”.
The assumption that the zombies would be kittens strikes me as foul propaganda by the ever-more-powerful Canine Lobby.
I say, nay! — nay, I say! Stand up against this foul belief! Kittens are no more likely to single-mindedly devour your brains than dogs are likely to meekly defer from eating their own poo!
Or no more likely than I am to avoid using the word “poo”.
You know what’s weird?
I have yet to start a “poo” category on this blog.
You know what’s weirder?
I probably will…
Counting sheep would kill me right now.
For no discernable reason, I’ve been really tired lately. Every night this weekend, I’ve fallen asleep even earlier than the night before. Heck, I’m falling asleep before My Lovely Wife. (If you know My Lovely Wife’s sleeping habits, this will shock you. If you are not shocked, just pretend — you wouldn’t want to stand out now, would you?)
I don’t know why I’m so tired. Maybe Seasonal Affective Disorder is finally rearing its ugly head. Whatever the reason, my body has just decided that it is tired and that the best way to remedy that was to turn off a light switch in my brain, no matter if I was currently operating any heavy machinery. Thanks for the warning, brain.
It’s now Monday and I’m holding onto consciousness by my the skin of my teeth. All that’s keeping me on this side of dreamland is the music that I’m pumping directly into my cerebral cortex.
Because they are the bricks that form that wall, here are some of the songs that are currently keeping me interested enough not to develop a QWERTY-shaped indentation in my cheek:
Why I’m tired, I don’t know. All I know is that I hope it ends soon. And I’m so freaking glad I’ve got music right now.
P.S. I just started listening to The Stars’ Set Yourself On Fire for the first time. It’s helping too.
CNN.com: “Tiger poo, the new black gold”
A tiger’s roar might be scary, but Australian researchers have found that the predator’s poo is just as potent.
Researchers at the University of Queensland said on Friday they had successfully trailed a tiger poo repellant, warding off wild goats for at least three days.
“Goats wouldn’t have seen a tiger from an evolutionary point of view for at least 15 generations but they recognize the smell of the predator,” repellent creator Peter Murray said in a statement.
Just remember:
Tiger poo = effective pest repellant / ineffective protaganists for children’s stories
Tigger and Pooh = ineffective pest repellant / exellent protaganists for children’s stories
Do NOT mistake the two.
(Thanks, Dad!)
