Heading to work.

ME: So yesterday was Talk like A Pirate Day so on the site I-

MY LOVELY WIFE: I read it.

ME: What?

MY LOVELY WIFE: I read your site yesterday.

ME: But you never read my site.

MY LOVELY WIFE: Sometimes I do.

ME: Really?

MY LOVELY WIFE: Yup. Spot checks.

ME: What?

MY LOVELY WIFE: Spot checks. I’ve got to make certain that you aren’t saying anything you shouldn’t be.

ME: But… you don’t read it because it makes you laugh or to see what I had to say or because you love me?

MY LOVELY WIFE: Nope. Spot checks.

ME: Huh.

…

For the record, this was not my first choice for most amusing conversation with My Lovely Wife today.

But now I know she’s checking.

And I have a will to live.

[Looks over shoulder. Ducks.]

Avast ye!

It be true. Today be that most felicitous of occasions, Talk Like A Pirate Day!

Now be yer chance ta cement in ye co-workers minds — beyond all shadow’s doubt — that ye be a little weird.

I be going on me way now. I have an appointment on yon poopdeck fer some cookies!

Pirate cookies.

Arrr…

…

Truly — “poopdeck” be the greatest word in the pirate dictionary.

Scourge of the Clamshell *
Power Description: Can open any consumer good shipped in plastic clamshell packaging. With a single steely glance. From fifty feet.

* Note: Does not work on products made in China.

• BBC NEWS: “Larry Craig toilet ‘tourist site’”

The Minneapolis airport toilet where US senator Larry Craig was arrested for allegedly soliciting gay sex is now attracting tourists, say airport staff.

Oh. My. God. Do people have no idea what it means to vacation? To escape their everyday life and slip the bounds of drudgery and the mundane? Are their souls so dead, their imaginations so bereft of wonder, their dreams so crushed beyond repair, that they will blindly clutch at the crudest of diversions, just to experience something, anything that can cut through the haze and fog of their numb existences, as if they were jabbing their tongue into the toothache of their souls to feel — O, to feel — anything at all?

I mean — REALLY?

MINNEAPOLIS???

[Shudder.]

…

My apologies to all Minneapolians.

…

Minneapolites?

Minneapolii?

Or is that plural of Minneapolis?

…

Imagine that — more than one Minneapolis.

…

[Shudder.]

I’m taking a mulligan today. Three posts written and three posts thrown out.

Frustration, thy name is Jason.

…

Well… actually, I guess Frustration’s name would really be… “Frustration”. That’s sort of the point.

Maybe Jason is his middle name. I guess that makes sense.

Frustration’s friends would call him FJ. Or Frusty. Or Curly. If he was bald.

His mother would use his full name, but only when she was really mad at him. “FRUSTRATION JASON HOLLINGER! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!”

…

Huh. I actually didn’t know until just then that Frustration’s last name was Hollinger. Weird.

…

Okey-dokey. Back on message here.

Too many creatures are asleep in the house right now and I still have hours to go before I can join them.

Sigh.

I’m getting a cookie.