archive for the 'pictures' category

photographic evidence of my travel to malaysia

By the bye, if you are looking for photographic evidence that I actually did go to Malaysia and not just hole up in my house re-watching the first two seasons of BSG (for the uninitiated, that is the dread and wonderful Battlestar Galactica)*, then have at it:

* For the record, I re-watched the first two seasons of Battlestar Galactica AFTER I returned from Malaysia.

So don’t fret that I have been insufficiently entertained.

ummm… honey? where’s the plunger?

ummm… honey? where’s the plunger?


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


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.

and because mike asked… MOOCARDS!

I got my MooCards! Yee-Haw!


For those that are interested, here are the original pictures I used for the cards:

I’m so pleased with myself I could spit.

Really — when did expectoration become a sign of pleasure, I ask you?

cat-like readiness

The remnants of Hurricane/Tropical Storm/Really Pissy Mood Noel are sweeping through town right now.

Me and the Large One are on blackout watch. In the event that we lose power, my duties consist of leaping into action to get our generator running to keep the sump pump running or else we are going to employ a whole lot more dog-paddling than is proper when doing laundry tomorrow.

The Large One’s duties consist of keeping me warm.

I do have to say, I don’t know if this is what most people have in mind when they use the phrase “a state of cat-like readiness”:


verbiage: thumb tasting

Too full of ribs. Can’t speak. Food has moved past belly, broken into some form of meat mash, and filled all the nooks and crannies of my body. Honestly. If I cut my finger, pork would ooze out.

Mmmm. Appetizing.

My Father has hogged Command Central Monkey Pants all day — before and after supper time — hence the late hour and and my propensity to burp atomized meat particulates onto the monitor. My bad.

Please allow me to mollify your desperate yearnings for my concise and heartrending reflections on life in contemporary society (quick taste: “fluffy kittens = good; blood-drenched gila monsters = depends on situation”) with a brief glimpse into the world of competitive thumb tasting:

competitive thumb tasting

I think he’s winning.