title, and words following it down here in this part, it DOESN'T mean that I'm blogging. Sure, most of your mainstream daily newspapers and local television stations seem to think that's what constitutes a blog entry, but not me. I know better. So don't go getting all snarky and start asking why I'm blogging again when I said I'd quit, because I really did quit, and nothing you see here changes that in any substantive way.
Not even if I tell heart-warming stories of familial enjoyment or terrifying stories of suburban horrors. Which is good, because I don't have any of either.
All I have is about five minutes of less-than-full-throttle time from my paying work, and rather than do the prudent thing and go to the restroom or get up and move my legs, I thought I would exercise my fingers some.
It's springtime in Paradise By The Pinchgut, and as has been the case in the past, I have a lovely and verdant lawn full of various flora and fauna, generally in the form of weeds and fire ants. ::shakes fist:: I will offer my endorsement of Amdro--that stuff works very effectively. And it makes a great ice cream topping!*
The weeds, though--I leave them alone. If I killed all the weeds, I wouldn't have much of a lawn left. Then again, I would have less to cut. Hmm.
Wife?
Yep, still got one of those. And she's still really hot.** And she still seems determined to see to it that I stay out of trouble. Did I tell you I finally fixed the downstairs toilet and floor? I did. Very nearly killed me. Took two days of intensive labor, including being shot at by Bosnian snipers.# I told the whole sordid tale in a long-winded email to Doc Smith, and I'll reproduce it here later if enough people cry out to read about my idiocy. (And no, that won't be considered a blog entry, either.)
Kids? Yep. Still got those, too. Oldest graduates from high school in a couple more weeks, if you can believe that. Oh, by the way--remember when I used to say, "It's only a phase...it's only a phase...it's only a phase"? Well, it's not. It does remind me a bit of a Kafka short story I read when I was younger. And that's enough about that.
Boy just got back from Atlanta this weekend. He and his bandmates went to a competition over in Marietta, and then went and did the Atlanta tourist thing with stops at Cokeworld and Six Flags and some sort of medieval dinner theater deal. Sounded like he had fun, although he spent all day yesterday trying to keep his pants up. He packed the wrong pair of pants and forgot to take a belt. Thank goodness he had the decency to at least try to keep them up and not let them bag up around his butt cheeks. Anyway, given his frenetic schedule and adolescent desire to horse around and not sleep when given the opportunity at a nice hotel, he probably slept through all of his classes today.
Middle Girl is through with soccer for the school year. Managed to do quite well, although they did mess up their overall record by losing three tournament games mid-season. Otherwise, they did respectably well. And MG managed to keep up her grades to an extraordinarily high level. She's real smart-like. Overall, freshman year was a good one for her, which bodes well for the next three years. Although she did manage to miss last week due to a terrible stomach/intestinal bug. Blech.
Tiny Terror is still her same old ball-of-energy self. She's eleven, and at the very cusp of adolescence. Whiney, mouthy, loud, boisterous, but oddly lacking in guile. I guess that's good.
Patches? Lightning? About 1 and 2 years old, respectively. Still can't quite let Lightning out unattended without Patches going all puppy-silly and wanting to simulateously eat/play with the cat, who is baffled that anyone would want to tangle with him. Animals are weird.
Job? Still got one, and it looks like the decision to give up blogging was a good one. Not one spare minute in the day.*** But that's good. I've actually remembered stuff I shouldn't have forgotten, and have managed to avoid several instances where my ample buttocks could have been put into a sling. So, you know.
The world? I have no idea about anything, other than I really have very little other than contempt for whomever will be the eventual Democratic nominee, and little hope that the Republican nominee will manage to be able to win. I sense that 2008-2012 is going to be about like 1976-1980. Thank goodness I kept my leisure suits and two-tone platform shoes!****
Anyway, what's on your mind lately?
*Amdro is poisonous to all life and should not be eaten with ice cream, or anything else for that matter.
**Really. But don't be getting no ideas about her, or I'll track you down and smush you like a BUG!
#They could have been Serbs. Or not.
***Today excepted.
****Joking? Not.
Posted by Terry Oglesby at May 5, 2008 04:38 PMAmdro-- is that the stuff Mark McGwire took. Those that don't die should be really good hitters.
Posted by: jim at May 5, 2008 04:59 PMI get my two oldest for bit here this summer, looking forward to that. Having my wing fixed up is good but no shot or long gunning for 10 weeks is a lot to ask of a man or a Moron®. I won't be doing much cooking either, my meds make the mixing of sharps, bad balance & sudden onset of tiredness real likely to wind up hurting me even more.
Posted by: Chef Tony at May 5, 2008 05:23 PMI can point to one phase that's lasted over thirty years.
The first letters of the name are J-A. The third ain't an "N."
Bozo.
Posted by: Janis Gore at May 5, 2008 07:22 PMPreposterous blogpost. Where's the ribaldry? The conspiratorial asides? The pathos?
Weak effort, sir, weak. C+, and I expect better performance from the Southern Marsupial Blogger of the Year.
Posted by: skinnydan at May 6, 2008 08:17 AMJim, I think it's probably two different things, although it's probably suspicious that like an ant, Mark McGwire can lift 100 times his own body weight. As long as it's a bread crumb.
Tony, don't let lack of balance or clear thought hinder you. Let your inner moron be free!
Janis, I've never heard of a jabozo before.
Skinnydan, it was NOT a blogpost, therefore I consider it highly unsporting of you to expend effort in trying to paint it as a lackluster effort.
Not to stoop to your level, but is it possible that these comments of yours are merely a small part of a greater effort to discredit me? Was that not a puppy I saw you slip into the blender at the office party? Was that not a hobo I saw you beating under the bridge on Wednesday last? Glenn Reynolds has been trying to destroy me forever, and now it seems you've picked up some of his habits. Coincidence? I THINK NOT!! I'm just saying, 'lie down with dogs, get up with fleas.' Your associations WILL find you out, Skinnydan!
It's...it's enough to make my heart break. We were once such good friends. The walks in the park, the times we sat and laughed at the movie theater. And now, this. This BETRAYAL! And all I can do now is cry myself to sleep every night with the hot, hot tears of despair for a friendship irretrievably torn asunder. WOE! WOE!
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at May 6, 2008 11:19 AMTake it from me, Hon, they exist, and I've got one.
Posted by: Janis Gore at May 6, 2008 11:57 AMI've no doubt they must exist--you can even see pictures of them on Google!
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at May 6, 2008 12:42 PMNow Sir, you go Too Far! Ann Margret in a Wonder Woman Costume on a chopper is simply too much for any sane man to take! I'm afraid you leave me no choice.
Incidentally, while that was much more like what I expect around here, you only seem to have gotten the pathos and the ribaldry. Unless Ms. Margret was intended as a conspiratorial aside.
Either way, you're back to the proper standard. Care for a CornKneidel as a sop to your wounded pride? They're Matzahlicious!
Posted by: skinnydan at May 6, 2008 02:55 PMClever, that. Just walk right past your obvious, insidious, fellow-travelling with "Doctor" Reynolds. All those puppies didn't just climb into that blender by themselves, and we both know it!
Although, in fairness, a properly blended puppy smoothie is quite delicious with a side of CornKneidel.
And speaking of singers, what could be better than Irlene Mandrell holding a CZ pistol!?
Hey, don't you have pictures of another hot redhead sporting a firearm like this one? While I have the time at work to post, I'm still a little leery of my new overlords checking on my web activity. By the time I get home I compete with 4 other surfers, hence the late posting. My lovely wife just mentioned today her regrets at letting our 4 and 5 year olds do any limited surfing. Ah well, just another phase ...
I am curious about Oldest still planning on staying home during her post-secondary schooling. Once they turn 18 and graduate high school they think they can live with different house rules, ones that they make. ha ha. PossumPapa may not be getting much sleep some weekends.
While I would not stoop so low as to criticize the free ice cream, the lack of Monty Python references was troubling. If Clay Aiken is starring in a Broadway production of Spamalot, then maybe the shark (or the manatee) has been jumped. Hmm, I'm starting to get hungry for a Cornatee, now that I think about it.
Posted by: Marc V at May 6, 2008 10:18 PMY'all all so optimistic in your youthful parenting.
You'll be in Nate's shoes and mine one day, try as you might.
Posted by: Janis Gore at May 7, 2008 12:17 AMMarc, she's going to be living on campus. It will be a relief for everyone. For some reason, she seems to think she lives in some sort of an autonomous collective.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at May 7, 2008 08:24 AMWhoa, new content.
I come over to find somebody on the blogroll and find the possum is out.
I think this deserves some cake.
Posted by: Sarah G. at May 7, 2008 08:41 AMSorry about that - I put the puppy blender away for Passover and haven't dug it out of the basement yet.
As for Babes with Guns, I got a smaller shooter here, but more leather.
Posted by: skinnydan at May 7, 2008 08:55 AMThat cheered me right up. Did Dr. Possum send that in?
Posted by: Janis Gore at May 7, 2008 09:18 AMSarah, we'll be having cake later on. I have to go steal one first.
Miss Janis, Dr. Possum is indisposed at the moment, being out of the country at a medical implement conference in Amsterdam.
As for firearms, let's not forget that when all else fails, it's good to have an improvised backup weapon.
Some of us just go through a phase, but I will note that my parents are still paying my older brother's mortgage and caring for his house, so that he can live in Sweden with his Swedish "fiancee."
And I want to hear the story of the toilet that finally got fixed. I like hearing about the heartbreak and pathos involved in someone else working on their house. It improves morale over here to know I'm not all alone.
Finally, there were no mentions of Volvos in the above not-a-blog-post. Has a possum-impersonator taken over the reigns here at the Axis of Weevil?
Posted by: Jordana at May 8, 2008 02:23 PMYour wish is my command. Therefore, you are to blame when people complain.
As for the Volvo, it continues to soldier on without the need for repairs. A nice relief, considering I just dumped four hundred some-odd dollars into the Focus for a new timing belt and oil change.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at May 8, 2008 03:11 PMWow. $400 for an oil change? I knew prices were up, but that's something else. Pity you couldn't do it yourself...
Posted by: skinnydan at May 8, 2008 08:08 PMIt was the timing belt that killed me. I have a repair manual and know the procedure, but it is MUCH more difficult on a transverse engine than it was on the Volvo. No room to work, and a much bigger chance of screwing it up. While they were at it, I let them go ahead and do the oil change, too. It was only 28 bucks.
Posted by: Terry Oglesby at May 9, 2008 08:18 AM
