Lunch

Recently, I looked through my CD collection for my copy of Natalie Merchant's Tigerlily...and then I remembered that I sold it a couple of years ago along with a few other CDs so I could have enough money to buy lunch.

It would be nice to say things have turned around financially since then. Yup, that'd be really nice. A filthy lie, but nice.

I want some Diet Pepsi. I wonder how much I can get for Gordon Lightfoot's Gord's Gold?

Park Ranger Pete

My new favorite place in America is Acadia National Park. Have you been? You should go. Why? Why, for the lovely walking trails, the beautiful sea vistas, the windswept mountain tops, the scampering wildlife, the well mannered park patrons...and for Park Ranger Pete, an adorable young ranger at Acadia who taught us all about lobsters. Don't worry, the lobster was released unharmed after his quick meet and greet.

Fridge

I opened my 1950's era refrigerator this morning to grab a bottle of water and decided that was it, it was finally time to clean the green slime that's been oozing down the back left corner for the past 10 or 11 months. I don't know what this stuff is - isn't Freon a gas? Maybe it's antifreeze? Whatever it is, it looks like it's something that could kill me or at least damage me irreparably. Maybe it's the source of my endless sneezing, or maybe this is the stuff that makes my ass tingle while I watch the world news.

So I took everything out, including the drawers and drawer covers, and look what I found...





Eww! The fricking slime trail went all the way down to the bottom, forming a green and black pool of disease (with a long forgotten piece of cheese festering in it).

Now, I'm a craptastic housekeeper, but I had no idea this was going on in my FRIDGE! In my fridge, where my cheese sleeps, where my yogurts come to play with their toys. IN MY FRIDGE. (Bonus points - name that movie)

So I cleaned and cleaned and somehow resisted gagging. All the green stuff scrubbed away, but there's a permanent black pestilential streak at the bottom of the fridge. No amount of Lysol or Fantastik or scraping with metal objects will budge it.

And now I am so, so afraid of my refrigerator.

And I'm also curious - how does so much hair get in the fridge? Strands and strands of it; my hair, the dog's, the cat's - considering the fridge stays open for about, what, 4 seconds at a time normally, how does all that hair get in there? Or is this just normal hair and fur accumulation for a fridge that gets cleaned every four years?

Dreams

I woke up from a dream recently convinced that "humunculous" was a word. I couldn't find it in the hard copy dictionary, so I dictionary.comd it, and was asked "Did you mean HOMUNCULUS?" Sure, that must be it, so I clicked, and this is the definition:


1. an artificially made dwarf, supposedly produced in a flask by an alchemist.

2. a fully formed, miniature human body believed, according to some medical theories of the 16th and 17th centuries, to be contained in the spermatozoon.

3. a diminutive human being.

4. the human fetus.


Why? Why am I dreaming about test tube dwarves and/or eensy weensy sperm people? I don't know, but it makes me so very happy.

Nuts

Eric is crazed with glee from a well placed shoulder scratch. Ay, Mami, como me hace loco.