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or in my case, these [expletive deleted] burrs from the wasteland that was once our front yard.

Ten years of drought in Central Texas and our lawn is kinda like a tan crusty mat of Texas sand burrs. Looks just fine, actually. But over the past few years, those little fuckers have won the war and are finally in everything in the house. Throw rugs, upholstery, curtains, blankets, SOCKS, shoe soles, mats, towels, pants, chairs, ugh, you name it, you touch it, it's got sand burrs in it. I pick them off before I do the laundry. I pick them off after I do the laundry. I pick them off while I'm putting the laundry away. I pick them off when I'm getting dressed. I pick them off when I step on one and yell. I sweep them off the tile. They're an army of invasive little knives.

The jokes on them, though. They'll never sprout on the tile, so their journey to spread their seed far and wide was thwarted. Ha! Screw you, sand burrs. Unless they've taken over the landfill where my trash goes, in which case I guess they win. Dammit.
A Facebook friend of mine in Croatia posted this, which I think is hilarious. Not so much because it's really a funny joke, but because I recognized it without knowing Serbian so much. Good Lord, do I know the punchlines to so many stupid jokes?

Razgovaraju verenica, ljubavnica i domaćica o seksu, pa se dogovore da obuku crnu kožnu seksi odeću te tako iznenade svaka svog partnera.
Nakon nekoliko dana sastanu se ponovo.
Verenica: - "Joj kad me je video rekao je ženim te odmah i navalio."
Ljubavnica: - "Otišla sam u kancelariju, razgrnula mantil i kad me je video, prestao je raditi i navalio."
Domaćica (25 godina u braku): - "Ja obukla sve crno seksi, stojim kraj vrata, a muž otvori vrata, gleda i reče: "Betmene, šta je za večeru?"

[what, your Serbian"s rusty?]
A single woman, an engaged woman, and a long time wife met for drinks after work. The conversation drifts towards their sex lives. Eventually, they decided to surprise their men by dressing up in sexy black leather outfits.
After a few days they meet up again.
Fiancee: - "We had sex all night, and he wants to move up our wedding date!"
Mistress: - "I went to the office, slipped out of the coat, and we had sex on his desk right then and there!"
Housewife (25 years married): - "I'm wearing all black and sexy, I stand at the door. When my husband got home from work, he grabbed a beer and the remote, sat down and yelled, 'Hey, Batman, what's for dinner?'



ladycaviar, you haven't posted in nine million years and you give us this?


top on is my cat, Miss Sugars, and bottom one is the late Mr. Zonker, who now lives on my mantel.


Art for art's s--holy crap, what is THAT?

In today's interlude, the Man and I find ourselves watching bad tv about an Australian artist who paints with his penis under the name of Pricasso.

oh, you can"t make this upCollapse )


Writer's Block: A novel idea

Which book would you want to see turned into a videogame?

Finnegan's Wake.

Miss Sugars hears a Who

Today I found the cat with a dust bunny (rhino?) so large I thought it had been alive at one point.

Creepily, it resembled the Horsehead Nebula. I didn't know whether to take it away from her or scan it for radio signals and signs of life.

In the end, she took the decision away from me by dragging it around the house in her mouth as her prey, and it disintegrated in a little trail of destruction and surrender all over the tile. Bye-bye, denizens of the Horsehead Dust Galaxy -- we never knew ye.

Note in all of this, the thought of vacuuming never came up.


I swear to God officer, it's oregano

While I was stuck for a week in St. Louis recently, I made a pilgrimage (oh! twist my arm! the peril) to the shrine of St. Penzey's of the Spices.

Skip a bit, brother...Collapse )

He looked very carefully at his dinner and sniffed it before he at it tonight.


A love letter to my prince

My beloved Zonker passed away yesterday. I am beyond grief.

Not everybody understands the loss of a cherished companion, or especially the bond I had with this particular loving being. I don't know if I feel sorry for such people or think they're lucky to be spared such agony. I just don't know. I hurt too much. I want my kitty, my part of my soul back.

Different people deal with grief in different ways. This is part of mine.

I wrote this, you don"t have to read itCollapse )


explain some things to me here

I was at a craft store the weekend before last, attempting to match yarn to a sweater. Next to my aisle, there was a couple in the Halloween decoration section, loaded up with cheap Halloween crap and selecting more. The man was holding a large styrofoam tombstone, and giving his girlfriend a hard time. She was trying to help him choose another, but he was being really picky.

"No, I don't want two the same," he snapped at her. "That would be a waste of money."

click here if you have no idea why I posted that.Collapse )

Please tell me I have a kindred spirit out there who gets me...

You had me at giant sturgeon...

I've been watching the English language broadcast out of Beijing because, well, our cable provider has it. The news makes no sense whatever, but the travel and history programs are awesome if you're interested in China at all.

The history of silk thing was to die for, and right now I'm watching some archeology thing on these digs of 4,000-6,000 year old shamanic cultures which are remarkably similar to Native American cultures. Go figure, land bridge and all. What got me was in the telling of a story about one of this culture's leaders, who supposedly (with the help of his four wives) rode a giant sturgeon down the river to unite the Yulin and Eloi peoples in peace for hundreds of years, they felt a need to say this:

"Scholars warn that this may not be a historically accurate account."