August 28, 2007
August 24, 2007
August 23, 2007
You're The Sound and the Fury!
by William Faulkner
Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue, but you're mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you've lost. People often have a hard time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.
August 22, 2007
August 19, 2007
Having energy for little else, I have been surfing the weeeb. Specifically, I can has cheezburger? I aim to have viewed every captioned kitty (and labelled lagomorph and readable rodent) that the site has to offer before my tonsils have returned to their normal size. That shouldn't be a problem.
August 18, 2007
That was my first clue. Montana usually has wild eyes and a manic manner.
When I proceeded to the second floor, I found Samson in the middle of the scattered trash, cheerfully chewing on some cellophane. You might think I would conclude that the cat was at least partly responsible for the mess. Au contraire, my friend. You see, I already know what Samson does when he decides to get into the garbage. Samson doesn't knock over the wastebasket and toss trash hither and thither. He gingerly removes the Q-tips, one by one, and gnaws on the cotton tips. (Thankfully, unlike some people's pets, he doesn't eat the entire Q-tip.)
While we're on the topic of Q-tips, what's with the maxim, "Never stick anything in your ear smaller than your elbow"? Does anyone seriously believe that Q-tips would still be on the market if people weren't sticking them in their ears? The Q-tips web site suggests everything from cleaning camera lenses to swabbing umbilical cords, but ear-cleaning is conspicuously absent... or is it? Aha! Elbow-maxim-spouting people, stick it in your ear!
August 15, 2007
August 14, 2007
I'm just a sucker for anything copper. The range hood would have been quite attractive, but the previous owner had tried to clean it with a chemical that reacted with the metal. Her efforts left unsightly streaks, as you can see:
Such a lovely piece of copper, marred by the former owner's stupidity. What a shame. One day I decided to get ambitious. Using copper polish, rubber gloves and good ol' elbow grease, I scrubbed and I scrubbed and I scrubbed. I couldn't undo the chemical damage, but I was able to bring back some of the shine. I was pretty darned proud of my work. I pulled off the gloves and went to step off the footstool to admire my work from arm's length, but the stool slid out from under me and I fell forward, planting my palms flat on the freshly polished range hood.
August 09, 2007