Definitions

puggle: deceptively sticky patches of mud and goo left behind after rainwater evaporates out of muddle puddles. I lost one of my shoes in a puggle when I walked across a field after last week's rain storm.

puggle: a hardened, crust-like shell found in the corner of the human eye after mucus dries. The short, curly haired, girl was ready to go to school after the roommate cleaned the puggle out of her eye.

puggle: the act of sneaking snack foods into an area that restricts food or drink. The taller pretty girl and the short kid with glasses frequently puggle their popcorn into the living room to watch movies.

puggle: a parasitic insect that thrives in cool, damp, environments. The exterminator told us that the puggles in the basement would no longer be a problem after he fumigated.

puggle: a small, beagle, pug, canine, hybrid that typically invade otherwise stable home environments; bringing with them constant yapping, razor sharp teeth, and incontinent issues that only a urologist and plumber can address. The puggle barked in my ear while I tried to eat my breakfast. Upon trying to discipline the puggle, it bit my arm and urinated on the carpet beneath my ceral bowl.

Just when this household couldn't get more annoying . . .

Hiatus

So I've been on hiatus lately. However, I have several excellent excuses. None of them really matter, though, and besides, who cares? I rarely have anything important to say.

I had mentioned earlier that I have been disturbed with the happenings around the house lately. Specifically, I mentioned a Doberman incident? Let me give you the low down on that real quick, because I am still shuddering!

While I was minding my own business last Wednesday afternoon, I found myself strolling around in the front yard, inspecting the flower beds, and trying to decide on what to plant this spring. Schools had let out for the afternoon - my roommate's girlfriend had come home with most of her kids, and random school buses were rolling up and down the street in front of our house. I saw my roommate turn the corner heading for the driveway with the short curly haired girl in the backseat. I winced a bit at the sight of her return home, but I didn't think much about it because I was outside enjoying my yard. (She is not allowed in the front yard). Yes, the end of the work day was near, and things appeared to be normal.

As I was investigating an azalea bush that needed to be uprooted, I heard the familiar screech of the school bus that our neighbors ride. Usually, they get off the bus and head home, but something was different this day. All the kids on the bus were hanging out of the window - hollering, screaming . . . hollering. I looked up and saw the chunky kid from next door running as fast as he could (which, by the way, wasn't that fast . . . ) in the opposite direction of his house. Instead, he was running straight towards OUR house through OUR yard. Instantly, I knew something was wrong because he was screaming something about Jesus helping him as he literally ran right out of his shoes! His school books and papers made a breadcrumb trail from the curb straight through our yard.

I could not see from what he was running, so being curious by nature, I crept around the corner of the house to get a better look. As I rounded the corner, I heard the sound of feet ripping across the yard. I heard a frantic panting sound, and I knew it wasn't the overweight, asthmatic neighbor kid, because he was hiding in our garage already. No, it was quite simply the largeST, DAMN, DOBERMAN I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE HEADING RIGHT AT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I ran faster than I thought imaginable, my life passed before my eyes. I actually felt the beast's hot, damp, breath on my rear as I headed to find refuge in the garage next to our hyperventilating neighbor. I saw my roommate making me breakfast and potty training me. I saw his girlfriend reading me story books while the taller pretty girl laid on the bed listening in. I saw the short kid with glasses locking me in the bathroom. I saw the short curly haired girl beating me with plastic baby dolls and whiffle ball bats -- my entire life! Flashing right before my eyes!!

Thankfully, it turned out that my roommate had not made it inside the house by the time I made it to the garage. He must be some type of an idiot, too, because he was standing out in the driveway trying to calm down the dog! Truth be told, though, he was also some type of angel, because he saved my life - not to mention the life of our petrified neighbor (who, by the way, kept clamoring on and on about Jesus, his momma, and either one or both of the aforementioned saving him)!

I ran inside before the entire incident ended, but apparently there were more theatrics that happened before the Doberman from hell went home. The short curly haired girl was trapped in the van the whole time the dog was running about, and when my roommate finally got her into the house, the dog ran inside after him. Also, in the midst of all the confusion, the taller pretty girl wandered outside holding her new puppy. The Doberman ran circles around her and she just giggled, and asked, "Daddy? Who's big doggie is this?" - completely oblivious to the fact that to the brutal stray canine, she was merely a big, juicy, doggie treat on legs. All in all, it was a pretty frightening afternoon . . . but we made it . . . barely.

And yes, I said new puppy. Won't my roommate ever learn how to say "no" to the girlfriend?

Alas, it is late and I must slumber now. Tomorrow though, I promise to introduce you to Maximus Decimus Aurelius - the puppy straight from Satan's backyard.

I am not well. In fact, I'm downright bad off these days. I know I haven't posted in almost a week, and for that, I am truly apologetic, but lately I've had issues - serious issues. In fact, if the truth were to be revealed, I haven't even been around the house lately. Lately, I don't even feel welcome there.

Let's start with tonight and work backwards, shall we? Around 8 or so this evening, I slipped back to the bedroom to go to sleep. Everyone else was awake, and I figured that I'd get a jump start on the household. Around 9 or so, the whole room started to shake. I shot straight up and looked around in the darkness. It sounded like a helicopter was landing on the roof! I was so startled I almost bumped my head on the bed. My roommate was nowhere to be found, which wasn't unusual as it wasn't late enough for him to be asleep yet. Again, the hideous noise ripped through the bedroom. I instinctively ducked as if a low flying object would buzz my head at any moment. The noise echoed in my ears and crescendoed into a vile sucking sound that nearly drove me mad. As I made my quick exit from the bedroom, my curiosity caused me to fling one last glance over my shoulder, and what I saw actually should have instantly calmed me, but instead, I was thrown into a state of sheer annoyance. The hell beast, helicopter, emerging vortex sound that jolted me out of a deep sleep was coming from my roommate's girlfriend. I guess I had been so tired that I didn't hear her come to bed.

Snoring. I used to have a dog whose snores rivaled the sounds of 18 wheeler accidents on busy freeways, but tonight, the girlfriend surpassed even the most sincere snoring efforts of that dog - may she rest in peace.

Actually, I'm still so flustered by my disturbed sleep, I don't feel as if I can continue to write tonight. This incident came at the end of an incredibly stressful day that included a chunky black kid, a ravenous, stray Doberman Pincher, a sweaty, screaming, curly haired girl, and a school bus full of screaming public school kids. I simply can't continue tonight. I must leave and pace around the balcony to calm my frazzled nerves.

I'll gather myself and continue tomorrow evening. (Even though you'll never believe it).

Twilight Zone

Eye am knot smart. Cuz eye r stoopid. Eye lyke 2 dig n durt. Wen eye here a truk eye bark at it. Those dum truks cant scair me an my sister. Wee bark at em an make em leaf us alone. Eye lyke 2 eat stiks. Thair gud. Eye wish stiks wer maid of meet tho. That wud make em taste beter. The uther ting dat is stoopid is the comurshals about kows that try 2 git peeple 2 eat mor chikin. That is dum cuz kows cant rite or spel gud. Eye catched a skwurl.

But I digress . . .

How simply inane would it be if those foolish dogs could post blogs? A ludicrous notion to be sure!

Spring

Aw, man! What an awesome day! The temperature got up over 65, the sun was out, and there was a soft breeze. I love days like today! I hung out on the balcony for most of the day. I lounged in the sun and, just watched the outside world just happen before my eyes. Even the dumb dogs couldn't bother me today. I believe that even those mopes knew how awesome today was which held them in check for most of the day. Beautiful day; simply perfect.

If I knew how to play golf, I would have played today. If I knew how to play tennis, I would have reserved a court today. If I had a horseshoe set, I would have been pitching them in the backyard. I mean, today was so perfect, that if I actually had been pitching horseshoes, the dogs would have gotten in the way, and horseshoes would have bonked those dummies in the head.

I love spring! (And I need to get me some dang horseshoes . . . )!

Stone Face

It is the middle of April, and yet it is cold outside. Tonight was not as cold as last night, though. Last night, a record low temperature for this area was set at 28 degrees. It is a good 10 degrees warmer tonight, so I decided to take a walk. My roommate was gone to a meeting, and I figured when he came home, I would go back inside. He didn't return until almost 9 o'clock, but at the time, I didn't notice because I was tracking a cat.

I noticed it creeping into our driveway earlier this evening and I decided that I would scare it off. The cat was nosing around in our carport. He would randomly meow at stuff as he cautiously explored. I tried to sneak up on it, but I failed. It's hard to sneak up on a cat. It saw me and immediately it arched its back, backed into a corner and hissed at me. It was a pretty gutsy thing to do considering it was in MY carport. I decided to mock the cat, so I hissed back at it. The cat looked back at me with disdain. I thought about throwing something at it, but nothing was available.

Neither the cat nor I moved. He wouldn't budge, so neither would I. He growled at me once, and mockingly, I growled back. This stupid animal didn't know what to make of this stand off I had instigated. I honestly don't know how long I stared at this animal, but eventually I heard my roommate walk out of the balcony door. He called out for me, but I didn't answer him. I didn't want to blink in my battle of wills with the intruding cat. The tall kid walked outside next, and he started down the back stairs. The creaking of the stairs scared the cat and it quickly ran away. I'd like to think that I honestly won the battle, but I cannot fully embrace victory because I am certain that the tall kid's footsteps turned the tide.

Cats are dumb.

Trick or Treat?

The best thing about being a lazy slob is the opportunity that it affords one to eavesdrop. If you are lazy enough, people will eventually forget that you are even there, and they will be comfortable enough to say anything. Over the years I've noticed how my roommate and his girlfriend behave when they need to talk about something "important," but they are unable to do so because "certain" people are present. They have their own unspoken language that is intended to be secretive to all except for them. They have gotten pretty efficient in getting people out of a room so they can talk. They are cool as the other side of the pillow when they utilize nonverbal communication skills in a room full of people. They understand each other completely without saying a word.

They think they are so clever, and truth be told, they really are. I have to give them credit. They've honed this skill to near perfection. They are deluded, however if they think that they have been able to fool me. A room can clear, but I am still there. They can smoothly make believable excuses to exit a room to find solitude together, but I follow. They think the coast is clear, so to speak, but I am always there. They pride themselves in the fact that they share a special confidentiality that not even the brightest intelligence expert could detect. They believe that they have secrets. They believe that nobody knows what they discuss in their most private moments.

HA!

I am the dust bunny under the bed. I am the neglected sock in the corner behind the bedroom door. I am the forgotten glass of water left on the bathroom counter. I am the penny that fell behind the dresser. I am the empty Kleenex box sitting on the bedside table. I hear everything they say. I interpret all of their body language. I know what is happening in this house. My roommate and his girlfriend are an open book. They think they are so smart! HA! They have no secrets! They can hide nothing from me!

Now if I could only figure out the short curly haired girl so well.

Honestly - I never saw that plastic jack-o-lantern coming; nor did I ever believe she could actually get my whole head inside of it . . .

And then, nothing happened . . . !

I haven't posted since Thursday. There's no reason for it other than I haven't felt like writing recently. Sometimes I feel like that - like not doing anything. People all around me can be engaged in all sorts of activity, but I have the ability to ignore it all. The girlfriend often likes to sit around and do nothing, but she always feels guilty and eventually will get up and do something. My roommate is more like me, but even he can't sit completely still for three straight days doing absolutely nothing productive at all.

Friday was boring. The short curly haired girl went to school which ordinarily doesn't happen on Fridays, so that was an added bonus. The short kid with glasses stayed home, though. He had to go to the doctor to get a hard cast put on his broken arm. I had thought about running a few errands in the neighborhood while my roommate and the kid were at the doctor, but I wanted to catch The View, so I stayed inside on the couch. The key in the door woke me up around noon, and I realized that I had missed my show. Oh well.

Around 12:30 or so, my roommate and the short kid with glasses and a red cast left again. They were headed to get some lunch. I opted not to go. I don't do hamburgers. Besides, I wanted to watch Law and Order re-runs, so I stayed on the couch. The key in the door woke me up around 3:30 or so, and I realized that I had missed another show. Oh well.

The whole family left the house around 5 or so to go out to eat with Grandma and Grandpa roommate. I wasn't invited, so I stuck around on the couch to watch the local six o'clock news. The key in the door woke me up around 7. I missed the news. Oh well.

Saturday was a blur. I went outside a couple of times, but for the most part, I stayed inside and napped off and on throughout the day in the boy's room. Later that evening, some woman came over to the house and she brought with her a little kid roughly the same age as the short curly haired girl. Those two were hell on wheels! I simply could not take the noise and danger that they produced, so I slipped into the roommate's room and took a nap.

Later that night, my roommate woke me up digging around in his closet. I looked up to see what the commotion was all about, and I quickly realized that there was sunlight squeezing through the blinds in the bedroom. Dang. It was already Sunday.

Monday is coming.

Blowin' in the wind

The wind was quite stiff today. I was outside for a short while today right in the middle of the gusts. I think I must have attention deficit disorder or something, because I could not ignore the urge to chase the leaves, pine needles, and bits of trash that were being blown about in the wind. I finally gave up and went inside.

Thunderstorms rolled in to town this evening. Everyone thought that the storms would be much worse than they actually were. Schools dismissed early, local meetings around town were cancelled, the school board meeting got postponed; the town was being overly cautious. I suppose that makes sense, though. The last time a storm system such as this one blew through, tornadoes tore up a large portion of town. Fortunately, the only thing this particular system produced was thunder, rain, and barking dogs.

Why do dogs bark at thunder? Seriously, what is the point? Perhaps they bark at thunder the same reason they bark at garbage trucks and the brown UPS trucks. Dumb.

Currently, the celling fan is blowing a piece of paper around in the den. Excuse me, please. I need to go chase it. I just can't help myself . . .

Unicorns and pain meds

This morning as I floated off into the cloudy haze of a pain reliever fog, I dreamed that I was in a field of beautiful flowers. The birds were chirping, and butterflies filled the air flitting nervously about in shaky figure eights. The sun was bright, the sky was a crisp blue, and a gentle breeze blew on my face. I felt as if I were floating while I slept, but in my dream, I was wide awake. It was a wonderful feeling, and I didn't want it to end.

My roommate and the short curly haired girl, did not share my same desire, however. Around nine o'clock this morning, they came clumping down the stairs. The short curly haired girl was shouting "bye-bye" to everything that she saw, recognized, and could pronounce. "Bye-bye, chair! Bye-bye, light! Bye-bye, shoe! Bye-bye . . . . "! You get the point. My roommate shuffled the short curly haired girl out of the door and into the van. He handed her the customary bag of dried cereal, her cup of milk, and her blanket. She squealed a very sincere, "Thank you!", and then my roommate went back upstairs to get his cup of coffee, the short curly haired girl's lunchbox, and his cell phone. Same thing happens every single morning. Ordinarily, this routine doesn't bother me a bit, but this morning, all the noise frightened away a lovely pink unicorn I had been watching as it grazed on lavender buttercups. But I digress . . .

As my roommate walked out of the door, he stuck his head back inside to tell me goodbye. I squinted and acted like I didn't hear him, but I was awake now. As he was closing the door, he added one more comment, "Don't sit around all day, how about it? Make yourself useful." Before the key turned in the lock, I was asleep again. Make myself useful. Right. I'll get right on that.

Not a minute later, I heard the van in the garage, the key in the door, and my roommate walking back into the house. I couldn't imagine why he was back so soon. Again, I squinted in his general direction. Suddenly, my roommate shouted at me! "What are you still doing asleep? It's three in the afternoon, and you haven't moved an inch since I left this morning!"

That nap must have been better than I thought!

Reflections from Joe's Garage

The innovative, 70's rock 'n roll, pioneer, Frank Zappa once wrote an off color tune entitled "Why Does it Hurt When I Pee?" I have my own ideas about what he was talking about in his tune, and I have a pretty good idea he wasn't talking about a urinary track infection. But - he could have been as far as I'm concerned recently!

MAN! I have been in some serious pain for the past couple of days! Taking a simple leak is nothing to take for granted. I guess I never really realized that. I haven't been able to drink enough water for days. I haven't been able to get comfortable for days. I haven't ever experienced such pain - EVER. I tried to ignore it. I tried to pretend that I was okay. I tried to keep my pain and discomfort a secret from my roommate and the girlfriend, because I knew that if they realized there was something wrong with me, they'd take me to the doctor.

Last night, everyone had gone to bed except for my roommate. I didn't immediately realize that he was still awake, and he heard me crying out in pain. He came to the door of the bathroom and knocked. I was startled, but I managed to keep quiet. Most people, upon not getting a response after knocking on a door, will turn away. Not my stubborn roommate, though. He tentatively turned the door knob and pushed his way into the bathroom. I was embarrassed and angry all at once. I tried to lead on that everything was fine, but he knew something was wrong. He told me that he was going to take me to the doctor in the morning. No questions.

When the sun rose this morning, I woke up and took cover. He was not going to take me to the doctor. I was fine, or at least I would be eventually. Doctors have needles and things that probe areas that are better left alone and untouched. My plan to hide from him worked for a while. I heard him calling my name; I heard him going from room to room in the house. I heard him cussing me under his breath when his search was unsuccessful. (Tee-hee)! And by the way, thank goodness for the short curly haired girl! My roommate had to stop looking for me when he heard her out on the driveway about to strike out down the street. I thought I was home free. I heard the van crank up and pull out of the driveway. Whew!

However, later on today, around one or one-thirty, I heard the key in the door. I was in some serious pain, and could not move. I trusted that my current hiding place was good enough, and I braced myself as I heard his footsteps on the stairs. I really must be transparent and obvious, because this time, my roommate found me immediately. Before I could even object, he grabbed me, led me down the stairs, and stuffed me in his minivan. Ugh! I complained the whole time in the car, but he just turned ESPN radio up louder. Into the doctor's office we flew. I was indignant. The pain seared through my abdomen and gave me double vision, but I was still trying to figure out a way to get out of the doctor's office. No luck, though. The nurse checked me in, gave some reassuring words to my roommate, and then told him to pick me up around 4.

I was furious! He was going to leave me alone! Angry as I was, the pain held me in check. I would have to get even with my roommate later. The doctor finally came in and gave me two HUGE shots that hurt like the devil. He poked and prodded me like I was a four day old cantaloupe at the farmer's market. He made some notes, and then told the nurse to fill a prescription for some antibiotics and pain medication. I overheard the nurse say that my roommate had requested liquid medicine for me. He apparently believes that giving me a liquid medication will be easier than getting me to swallow a pill. Ultimately, that is true, but just wait! I am going to make my roommate's life a living hell trying to give me my medicine!

The short curly haired girl and I don't get along that well, but she has taught me a thing or two about belligerence and being medicated.

Honestly, I feel much better already having received the injections from the doc. The additional medication that my roommate has for me will more than likely speed me on the road to a full recovery. I won't miss the pain, that's for sure. I suppose, however, that I'm hung up on the principle of the whole thing. I like for things to happen on my own terms.

Frank Zappa. What a musical genius.

The sun came out!

I spent most all of my time outside today. The temperature was in the low 70's and the sun shone brightly. It was a lovely day! We've had a lot of rain recently, and the gloomy weather can get old pretty fast! The kids skipped church this morning. My roommate had to get to work in a hurry and I think the girlfriend just didn't want to fool with getting everyone ready.

The taller pretty girl and the short kid with glasses (and a cast) went outside this morning with their bug catcher. They took sticks and poked around in the dirt off of the side of the driveway trying to catch insects. They searched for a long time. It really looked like they were having a good time. I felt bad for the short kid with glasses, though. He really wanted to ride his scooter this morning, too. However, the taller pretty girl would not let him. She said it would not be safe to ride a scooter with his arm in a cast. But, to make him feel better, she didn't ride her scooter either. Those two kids really take care of each other.

Later this afternoon, the tall kid went out into the neighborhood with one of his friends. I followed him for a while, but then I got tired and came back home. He was going to play baseball. When he came back from playing, he had black streaks under his eyes. I thought he had gotten into a fight or something! Turns out, though, that he put the black stuff under his eyes on purpose. He called it eye black. Apparently baseball players wear the stuff to cut the glare of the sun. Later this evening, the tall kid asked my roommate and the girlfriend if he could have a tube of his own eye black. They, of course, responded with the typical and non-committal parental answer of, "we'll see." If I was the parent, I would have told him no. What is the point of eye black? Why spend money on that stuff? I would have told him to squint. Problem solved. I do that all the time.

Girlfriend has dropped 11 pounds so far on her new diet. I need to do that, too.

Dang. I'm hungry.

That's Gonna Leave a Mark!

Well, well, well. What an adventurous evening in our household tonight! Around 6:30 p.m., the short curly haired girl, the taller pretty girl, and the short kid with glasses were downstairs playing. I was downstairs, too, lightly napping on the sofa where I had been trying to figure out a Nintendo DS game.

The short kid with glasses had made up a game for him and the taller pretty girl to play. He took the tall kid's skateboard and put it in the middle of the floor. He took a stack of throw pillows from a basket and stacked them on the floor just beyond the skateboard. The object of the game was to get a running start from the other side of the room, jump over the skateboard, and land safely on the pillows. The taller pretty girl went first. She ran and jumped and landed on the pillows. The kids laughed and got excited about this new game. Next, it was the short kid with glasses turn. Right when he was about to get his running start, the short curly haired girl who had previously shown no interest whatsoever in the game, ran over and kicked the stack of pillows. The short kid with glasses yelled at the short curly haired girl, and then re-stacked the pillows. He started over on the other side of the room and got up a good head of steam. He soared through the air, easily clearing the skateboard, but he had such a strong jump, he also cleared the landing pillows. Before he hit the ground, he instinctively stuck his hand out to break his fall. SNAP!!

Immediately, the short kid with glasses let out a terrifying scream. He rolled over and grabbed his arm. As he stood there crying, I noticed that his little arm looked like the letter "w." He ran upstairs and the taller pretty girl followed. They ran into the den to show my roommate what had happened. From there on, confusion ensued. I heard my roommate saying, "His arm is broken." The tall kid said, "What? Oh my gosh!" The taller pretty girl was crying, the short kid with glasses was crying, and then the girlfriend came running into the room. "What happened?" she shouted over the ruckus. My roommate repeated himself, "His arm is broken. Look at it." The girlfriend looked at the kid's arm and almost fainted. My roommate scooped the short kid with glasses up and took him to the emergency room. The girlfriend frantically got dressed and arranged childcare for the others and went to the hospital, too.

My roommate and the short kid with glasses didn't get home until after midnight. The tall kid and taller pretty girl stayed up until their brother got home. He came in and showed off his cast and sling. He told them all about his hospital adventure: riding in a wheelchair, getting stuck with an IV needle, inhaling bubble gum flavored gas, watching Disney channel in the hospital bed, throwing up into a bucket (gross) . . .

Truth be told, I'm glad the little guy is okay. I broke my hip a few years ago, so I know how painful a broken bone can be. He's a tough little booger, but an experience like that can be frightening.

My question, though, is this: how come I didn't get a stuffed animal and a set of Matchbox cars from the nurses when I got sent home from the hospital? No fair.

Thursday

Sometimes I don't understand people.

I Just Don't Get It

Some things do not make any sense to me. For instance, how is it that the taller pretty girl can sleep seemingly comfortably with her head completely encased in covers? How does she breathe? I check on all the kids before I go to bed at night and 6 nights out of the week, that child is completely covered up. Every now and then, my roommate will sneak up on me while I am asleep. He thinks it is funny to drop blankets or sheets over me. I freak out when I am engulfed with covers. I thrash and kick; I squirm and wriggle; I panic. I do not rest until I am out from underneath the covers. The taller pretty girl apparently prefers such sleeping arrangements, however.

I also don't understand how my roommate can watch re-runs of television shows - over and over again. I left the den tonight after I realized he was watching yet another re-run of CSI Miami. He knows what will happen, he knows who is guilty, he knows all the cheesy one liners, he knows Horatio is going to shoot someone and wear sunglasses inside. And if watching CSI Miami over and over again wasn't bad enough, I'll guarantee you that there is not a single Law and Order he hasn't seen at least 8 times! Me either for that matter, thanks to him. Everyday at lunch - soup, salad, sandwich -"In the criminal justice system . . . " CHONG-CHONG!

Finally, how is it that the weekend meteorologist on our local news is a better sportscaster than the real sportscasters on the channel? Tonight, this weather kid filled in for the regular sports guy, and he was actually very good! I suppose that really says something about our local news team. What a bunch of dingbats.

I also don't understand how to use the can opener, but that's material for another day.

Squinting Begat Random Thoughts

I overheard the tall kid asking my roommate a question today, "What do you think DC thinks about when he is pretending to take a nap?" Of course, my roommate didn't have an answer. But then again, he's an idiot. Since I like the tall kid, however, and since I am impressed that my squinting trick did not fool the tall kid into believing that I was actually asleep, I have decided to reveal some of the things that I thought about today while I was squinting.

1. When is the short curly haired girl going to pour something on me?

2. What is the purpose of wind chimes? They are quite annoying.

3. Why does the short kid with glasses change his clothes every time he walks into a different room of the house?

4. What can I eat?

5. How do telephones work?

6. I should lose about 15 pounds.

7. What can I eat?

8. Can flip-flops really get stuck in the top of an escalator thereby pulling your foot between the step and the platform subsequently severing your foot, or was Grandpa Roommate just jerking my chain?

9. Where in the hell is that short curly haired girl? It's too quiet in here.

10. Brian Williams has got nothing on Tom Brokaw.

11. If Barry Bonds did not use steroids, how come his head is as big as basketball now. I've seen his rookie card.

12. Miley Cyrus should fire her dad unless he agrees to bring back that dang mullet.

13. I'm hungry.

14. Why are they called dust "bunnies?"

15. Horatio Caine or Walker Texas Ranger?

16. That short curly haired girl is somewhere plotting my death.

17. Sigmund Freud's mom was probably distant and aloof.

18. Puppies suck.

19. George Clooney? Used to be on the Facts of Life? Really? George Clooney? Natalie and Tootie? Really? NO WAY!

20. Speaking of television, Grandma Roommate never liked Sanford and Son. How come?

21. I almost read a book today, but I fell asleep.

22. If you put a pork chop in your coat pocket, how long would it stay there before the smell would become unbearable?

23. "Cloister" is an irritating word. More so than "moist."

24. Teletubbies are satanic.

25. I've got to move. That short curly haired girl is coming. I just feel it.

Wow! How refreshing! Perhaps I'll do this more often. Revealing my random thoughts was quite a liberating experience.

One more thought -

26. Who came up with the idea for bread sticks?

Which reminds me . . .

27. I'm hungry.