Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Familial Rememberances; plus random brainspasms

* You got to name all the pets.

* No I didn’t.  I named Bozo, but you named Gumdrop.

* No, that was you again.  From that song, “if all the raindrops were lemondrops and gumdrops.”

* Oh, that does sound like me.  Okay, I’ll cop to the cat.  And I guess I did name Blackwatch.

* Yeah, I wanted to name him something cute, like Spunky or something.

* Spunky?  No way.  What a humiliating name for a proud beast. You can’t go naming your dog Spunky.  That’s like naming your dog Jizm. 

Yeah, good times.  And since I’ve got the memopad open, here’s a few more items I don’t know what else to do with:

I’m burned out on all the poker on television and on-line, but I do enjoy my daily rounds of solitaire.  I’m trying to combine the popular faddishness of poker now with the purity and serenity of solitaire.  So far I’ve developed an exciting new version of solitaire poker: “Texas Hold-It.”

There’s actually a soup called Cock-a-Leekie.  It always sounded to me like someone was sodomizing an anthropologist, but maybe that’s my own problem.

In yoga class, when I looked forward into the mirror across the front of the room, I was able to see several people working out all around me.  A woman who had been coming to the classes regularly was behind me to one side, so it was easy to notice that her shirt read “I MAIM”.  That seemed strange: she seemed like a nice, non-violent person, and here she was in a supportive, anti-mayhem environment; why did she want to tell the world about her fetish for removing people’s limbs?  Also the shirt was too cheerfully colored, in green and orange, to be authentically threatening.  Green and orange?  Oh yeah, school colors.  I was reading in a mirror.  “MIAMI.” Right.  Maybe I shouldn’t have offered to lend her a hand?

Enough for now.  No soup for you.  That’s a total ixnay on the cockie, and I’m going to restrict your leekie till you finish your homework.  Tonight Kel and I go to Metreon for the 7:50 showing of Sith - the heartwarming tale of a young man discovering his own light saber.  Till then I’m buried in paperwork.  Away put yer weapons.  I’m gonna get my ass kicked anyway.