archive for July 2007

the perils of hydration

I have-

[Sudden frantic scurrying sounds, then silence. Pause. Calm walking sound.]

I have discovered that I haveDAMN-

[Even more frantic scurrying sounds. A loud BANG! as a human body collides with a filing cabinet, followed by silence. Another pause. Grumpy walking sound.]


[Expectant pause.]

I think we’re good.

[Sound of drinking. Pause.]


[World-record-breaking scurrying noises. Silence.]

bloghim ‘07: selected sessions from the first morning

BlogHim ‘07

A Proper Loogie: Drinking Milk is Just The Beginning
Description: A presentation on phlegm-production techniques and their varying relations to distance, aim, and viscosity.
Location: Champlain Room
Time: 8:45 am
Session Length: 50 minutes

Coasters: What’s the Deal?
Description: A examination of the long-term strategies of the International Coaster Lobby (ICL) and its effects on beverage consumption and enjoyment.
Location: Cartier Lounge
Time: 9:45 am
Session Length: 110 minutes

“Do I Look Fat in This?”: THE Question… Your Response?
Description: A panel discussion of all possible successful responses.
Location: Royal Auditorium
Time: 11:45 am
Session Length: 5 seconds

Lunch & Keynote Address
“Pull My Finger. No… Really. Pull My Finger.”

Location: Excelsior Dining Room
Time: 11:55 am
Session Length: 90 minutes

not so much with the ravening hordes

Ok, so the plan to enter the melee on Friday night for the new Harry Potter didn’t happen.

Mainly because My Lovely Wife fell asleep at 10:00. This allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. And pack away my morning star.

I did head out on Saturday and pick the book up for her. As I was going to be busy all weekend working on a project, I was all for giving her something to do that didn’t include her moaning, “I’m boooooooooooored… Are you done yet?…” [Extensively protracted sigh.] “I’m BOOooOOOooRED…” [Even further world-record-breaking sighs.]

So the weekend progressed — me in the computer room, typing away. Her in the bedroom… I don’t know — muggling?

Finally, it was around 9:00pm. She was in the final stretch. The next hour consisted of periodic repetitions of the following script:

Me: [Type type type.]

Her: [Sob sob sob.]

Me: [Type type type.]

Her: [Sob sob sob.] Aa-aaa-aaaah… S-s-sweetie?… can you get me some tissue?

Me: [Control-S. Grab tissue. Go to bedroom. Hand tissue to My Lovely Wife. Hug her as she rocks back and forth.] There there… it’s all right… ssssshhh… it’s all right… sssshhh… just remember — don’t tell me ANYTHING. [Foreboding glare. Return to computer room.]

And repeat.

joining the ravening hordes

My Lovely Wife has expressed a burning desire to go shopping for books this evening at 12:01 AM.

For the life of me, I have no idea why.

[Girds loins for battle.]

Hmmm… where did I put that mace?…

a realisation

I pick My Lovely Wife up at work. She enters the car bearing a massive plate of ice cream cake.

We proceed to drive home, with her feeding me spoonfuls of ice cream cake the entire way.

That’s when it hits me.

My life… it does not suck.