archive for June 2007

sloth and decadance beckons

Well… actually… not really.

More likely a vast amount of man sweat.

[Pause.]

Hmm.

That didn’t sound right.

Anyways…

I’ve been a wee busy little beaver this week, cleaning my plate of that tender morsel called “work”, hence that vast silence on the Space Monkey Pants front.

For the record:

No. I didn’t eat the spiders.

At least, not in vast quantities.

I can’t swear that a few didn’t make it down my shrieking maw as I cannonballed into the sea of madness that was cleaning them out of the freaking sun porch. Stupid buggers.

As for the man sweat, I’m heading off on a four-day weekend to Montreal tomorrow for an Ultimate tournament, accompanied by fan-favourite blogger Mike! Go! Click the link! He’s got a picture of me! Yay! Go me!

Two-day tournament. All guys. Loads of physical over-exertion. In Montreal. In summer.

Add it up and what do you get?

Man sweat.

So. Much. Man sweat.

[Shudder.]

So, I bid you a very fond adieu and wish you all the very best Canada Day weekend ever!

Celebrate our country! Eat a beaver for me!

[Pause.]

Wait. That really didn’t sound right…

karmic triple whammy

The week that was:

  1. Baby spider infestation.
  2. Pulled calf muscle.
  3. Food poisoning.

Please excuse me if I am minus the funny.

[Rests head gently on keyboard. Serenely drools.]

five words i invented while lying face down in the grass after pulling my calf

  1. “damnabundlelickah”
  2. “fuhfuhfuhungh”
  3. “owowowowowowagada”
  4. “sississufahahahahahuhsunuvagabalager”
  5. “kunǃnk” [Note the postalveolar click]

mixed messages

I’m home after a night of Ultimate. I put my cleats in the back porch and head into the kitchen to feed the boys.

From upstairs, I hear a quiet song. It’s My Lovely Wife.

“I’m… looooooonely…”

I smile. Boys fed, I empty the dishwasher.

The song continues.

“So looooooonely… lonely… lonely… lonely…”

I’m getting the distinct impression that I’m being sent a message. Dishwasher emptied, I start to fill it with dirty dishes.

“Soooo… very alooooooooone…”

I hold firm. I have chores to do and I will finish them. I put the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“Just me… and noooooooobody else…”

I place my hands on the counter and take a deep breath. I will not break. I take a bowl of leftover chili from the fridge, put it in the microwave, and set it for three minutes.

There is a pause, where the only sound is the loud and slightly ominous WHIRWHIRWHIRCLICKwhirWHIR from our far-too-cheap-but-stylish microwave.

And then…

“LOOOOOOONELY! LONE-LONE-LONE- LOOOOOONELY! I’m all alone! Nobody loves meeeeee… I will just… WITHER AWAYAYAYAYAY… soooooooooooo… loooooooooone… LEEEEEEEEEEEEE!…”

I bow my head. Conceding defeat, I head upstairs.

I come into the bedroom and sit down on the bed next to My Lovely Wife.

“Okay. I’m here.”

She looks up from her book and sighs.

“I’m TRYING to finish this chapter…”

She resumes reading. I head back downstairs.

Her victory is complete.

really immature animal names

[From Wikipedia's "List of animal names"]

  • Ass
  • Beaver
  • Crab
  • Dingo
  • Limpet
  • Mole
  • Peafowl
  • Portuguese Man ‘o’ War
  • Smelt
  • Swallow
  • Woodcock
  • Yak

I am merely a conduit of knowledge.

And please remember… this could have been much worse.