Blind Like Me

Years ago I saw a blind man putting coins into a parking meter. I wondered if he would be waiting for a gumball to roll out after he twisted the knob. Last weekend I spotted a man with a white cane browsing in the high-definition TV aisle at Costco. My optometrist told me that I'm legally blind, and while I think that he's full of it, I have to admit that I couldn't care less about the picture quality on my television. As long as the vertical hold isn't all wacky, I'm satisfied.

Sweet dreams, Spider

It's never easy to say good-bye to a pet, not even one that stayed with Mom and Dad when you left home. I know this from first-hand experience. My heart goes out to Scott, whose cat Spider died last night. Spider was affectionate and vocal and he enjoyed a long and pampered life. He has left many fond memories behind.

I'm a book I've never read

I borrowed this quiz from Mike. His answer was a lot more satisfying than mine.

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.

Ouch!

This ad made me spit out my root beer

I was unsuspectingly watching TLC when this ad came on. I'm glad someone posted it on YouTube, because I knew no one would believe me if I described it without proof.

I is sick

Scott got sick, so I got sick. I seem to have next to no immune system, so that's the way it goes.

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.

Culpability

In response to my last post, two readers questioned Montana's culpability regarding the loo-litter incident. Fair enough. I didn't catch Montana in the act. In fact, when I emerged from the basement I found him in the kitchen, gently lapping water from his bowl. But then he glanced at me with doe-like innocence.

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.)

Mea culpa? Not.

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!

Scott's dog

Ferris, that lovable, gentle, obedient soul, is my dog. Montana, that $#@#@!, is Scott's dog. I decided to leave the little bugger out of his crate and unsupervised for half an hour and look what happened. He shoved past the baby gate and ran upstairs. I emerged from the basement to find everything from cotton balls to Q-tips chewed and slobbered on and mangled to bits.

Leaving prints

There were several special touches that sold me on my present home. Copper eavestroughs, a copper-lined fireplace and a copper range hood, to name a few. Never mind that the eavestroughs leak, the fireplace is fake and the range hood does not look like this:

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.

The next owner will get to shake her head at the stupidity of the previous one.

Yeeehaaaw!

Sadly, the site Stuff on my Kid never really took off. People are still crazy about putting stuff on cats, or making web pages for cats, or even creating Facebook profiles for cats, but kids just didn't cut the mustard. Perhaps I should have contributed. While I have no children, there are a handful of them in my gene pool, and every once in a while someone puts stuff on them. Like a cowboy hat.

Okay, okay, I'll stop...

...after this one. Maybe.

Fifty-one seconds of your life...

...that you'll never get back. But I make no apologies.