The adorable no-named sock monkey is no more!

We have a WINNER!

May I present… NOODLES!

Or, “Mr. Noodles” to the more formally inclined.

Or “Field Marshall Noodles”, if he is your commanding officer in the Prussian army.

Either way… good work, peeps!

Grilled cheese ahoy!

…

UPDATE:

Plumber has come and gone. Thank goodness that’s taken care of.

…

UPDATE 2:

Relax. The Small One is fine. No animals were harmed in the making of this blog post.

But the plumber did snake the drain.

Which could be the dirtiest statement I have ever written.

WELCOME TO THUNDERDOME, BEETCHES!

Let the voting begin!

[poll=2]

Pssst! Don’t like any of these options? Leave yers in the comments!

I present you with Exhibit A:

clicken to embiggen

Items of note:

• One nephew, resembling a 1920s speakeasy bouncer, sleeping
• One sock monkey, resembling a 1920s speakeasy sock monkey, sleeping (with eyes open, like some sort of freaky wizard)

All in all, rather similar.

However, the sock monkey is lacking in one single regard — IT HAS NO NAME!

My sisterwhoeatspoofortwo has asked me to not use my own singular talents to come up with the perfect name for the sock monkey.

No… she asks YOU for YOUR help.

In this, her hour of darkest need, you can do no less.

You… can do no less.

[Genuflects out of room.]

• Metro.co.uk: “It’s dove at first sight” (via Cute Overload)

Read the story.

Then be certain to mop up the remnants of your heart from the floor. It could leave a stain.

And I do.

In fact, I just did. Right up there in the first paragraph.

So… I guess it’s really a moot point.

…

Where was I?… [Scrolls up to beginning of post] “Herculean”… “mightily”… “moot”… oh yeah — I’ve been busy.

Hence the silence on the Space Monkey front.

Sadly, it’s always the wee folk that suffer when people get off their bums and actually — you know — work.

(And by “wee folk”, I mean you, my sofa-cushion-fort-making readers.)

So, I apologise for my lack of textual output.

For your troubles, may I present you with… a baby warthog?

VS.

• Married to the Sea: “Booty Hole”

Both please me. But differently.

And thus, the miracle of the human condition.

…

“Booty hole”. Hee.

• Cute Overload: “Stop and smell the orangutans”

No. I have not returned from my self-imposed, “OH CRAP! I’M GONNA COLLAPSE UNDER THE WEIGHT OF ALL THE FREAKING CRAP I HAVE TO DO! NURSE! I NEED DELICIOUS LIFE-SUSTAINING COOKIES! STAT!” sabbatical.

Posting this picture was a condition of getting my little sister (the villainous blackmailing poo-eating desperado that she is) to feed the Large One and the Small One while we are away for a week in August.

Thus has my obligation has been met.

Now, please allow me to return to my panic and flop-sweat.

• Engadget: “USB teddy bear holds data, scares children” (via haha.nu)

Do you ever get the feeling that you could make money by just walking around, pointing at crap and saying, “Let’s turn that into a USB drive“?

Or maybe the problem is that too many people are doing that.

Something like that.

(This post actually serves no meaningful purpose. Just thought I’d share. So you knew I was still alive. Which I am. And thank you for asking.)

• Flicker—Photos from The Cats Jungle: “North American River Otter” (sort of via Cute Overload)

Geez. What do you expect? It’s Thursday.

Of course I’m going to have a picture of an otter.

Weirdo.