Think I'll go raise worms.

Right now, all I can think about is worms. No, it's not because I just ran into the wormy mail dude who used to read all of our magazines before he passed them along to us, IF he decided to pass them to us AT ALL. No, I guess it's because I am so stinking proud of myself. This weekend, I bit the bullet and dug around in the dirt in my yarden (miniscule yard + mostly flowergarden = yarden). And it actually looks like real, sane adult units live in that house. I am very proud and happy about that for some reason.

(Besides the fact that my dog Otis made me very proud at the vet and is super-cool and everybody loves him, even the vet, who is also super-cool. More later on that...)

Anyone who knows me could see this: It's fairly obvious that I could have a small affinity for worms. In most cases, I don't wanna touch them. But I would think about taking it to the next level of commitment -- by building one of these super-ecologically-ingenious little Worm Ranches and strowing earthworm unspeakables across my newly created yarden. As you can see, I ganked the illustration up there from here. So buy some supplies from them or something. (Free advertising, you guys, and thanks for letting me borrow the pic in retrospect.)

Oh come on, you know you need some worms. The world is a better place when worms are present. The wormy people remind you how not to live your life, and the honest-to-goodness worms churn up the soil and literally make the world a better place for us all. Still not convinced you could use some worms, huh?

Ok. A slightly younger me would've sent a box of steaming hot redworms to any people I had a strong distaste for, say like a mail dude who reads your mail before you do. But you know, I'm not that person anymore. No, really. I've gone all soft like that and I'd feel sorry for the worms. I can feel sorry for a rock, I'm serious. But go ahead and cast the first worm. If anybody has a strong disliking for me, I'd welcome a box of worms. Back then and even now. It's a strange and strong paradox, I admit.

Anyhow, I don't know if you read that first link, but earthworms eat moistened t-shirts. I don't know how you feel about this, but to me, it's liberating. I could raise worms for the absolute rest of my natural life on just t-shirts alone. That's probably not the best thing for them to be eating day in and day out, but I'm just sayin'.

More on Otis Goes to the Vet later. He's such a good boy. Only bad thing he did was pee on the scale. I know how he feels.

By the way, if you are looking for a good movie, rent "American Splendor ".

Also, I'm off to check out this new photoblog option on Blogger. Because I know you can't wait for pictures of me gushing over baby worms and giant dogs.

Book review, book review.

If you need a dose of something good before David Sedaris' latest book "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim" hits the shelves, you have no other choice but to get "Birds of America" by Lorrie Moore. Such well-crafted sentences do not exist this side of Alcatraz. What, you think that sentence sucked. Well fine then: Buy Lorrie Moore... Buy Lorrie Moore...

And, I'd also like to influence a Klaus Nomi revisit and revival very soon. The world is suffering without his music. More on that later whether you want it or not.


But for now, for you, it's another friendly "Product Review, Product Review!"




Hershey's Dark Kisses, Hershey's Caramel-Filled Kisses and Hershey's Ice Cream Kisses.

Hershey's Dark Kisses just taste like a candle compared to Dove Dark Chocolate Promises. But the Caramel-Filled kisses make it allll betttterrrrr. They are so good that I'm never buying them again. Too tempting. And the Ice Cream Kisses Swirl Kisses are a mighty decent offering. At least the strawberry creme swirl ones are good anyhow. Not as tempting as the caramel ones, but I'm truly afraid of the other flavor combinations they may have come up with. If they had Pralines and Creme, I'd be in what is referred to as a World of Candy Pain.

Oh MAN, I just missed the Kiss Mobile when it passed through Memphis on May 3 - 9. Wonder if Ace Freeley was on it...I don't care for Gene Simmons. Not because he's an admitted womanizer, but because he's a freakishly ugly womanizer with a great big bloated ego bitchface. Oh the power of rock'n'roll.

You have to at least try the Caramel-Filled ones. Tell them my alien forces commanded you to do it.

Speaking of aliens,




I have a new favorite Otis story. The cat's in my lap, and he's a big cat, so I'm typing this with a 13 lb. added level of difficulty. Anyway, so I made an appointment for Otis to get his shots tomorrow at the vet. (Good thing he can't read. Yet.) He's never been there so they wanted all his info.

"Name?" It's Otis.

"Oh...Dee...Eye...Ess?" No, Oh TEE Eye Ess.

"Age?" (Well, Ron found him, so unless we cut him in two and count the rings) I'd guess 6.

"Breed?" Uhhh ... he's half Basset Hound and half Labradore. I guess you could call him Bassadore.

"(small silent pause)..." He looks like a Labradore, standing in a hole...

"Really?" Yep, and he also looks like Cher right now too because his toenails are really long and that is not neglect, that is too much love...

"What color is he?" Black. I'm serious about the toenails. I tried to cut them and cut one too short --

"And then he wouldn't let you near 'im again --" No, My HUSBAND wouldn't let me near 'im again.

"Really." Yep.

"Okay... so I've got you down for 10:30am Saturday." Ok thanks!

"Okay... Saturday is my day off, but you know what? I'm coming in. I've gotta see what he looks like."

I know the feeling! I wish I could start a herd of Otards. Maybe one day: Otis' "Circle Bar Toenail" Dude Ranch and Cow Eatery. No cats allowed.

(Maybe I described him wrong. Scott says he looks like a giant Labradore head was transplanted onto the stumpy little body a Basset Hound.)

I love spreading the Otis Otardia Tardarella goodness. I wish he wasn't so shy though. I'd build an Otis Mobile and we'd tour the country, and throw out little plastic Otis whistles made out of Dove dark chocolate, and filled with caramel. He's the world's largest puppy and my biggest little buddy.

Damn, I'm glad Otis can't read.

Being unmotivated is hard work.


Today's aphorism and another useless tagline from the past:

"I think I'm tired of these damned aphorisms."

and

"Ho ho ho, Green Giant."



There's been a lot going on these days. And being too lazy to update a blog is just one of them. And lucky for you, especially with all the inane things going on the past few days, such as stupid people,supersizing people,super-stupid people.

That kind of stuff should equal an All-You-Can-Blog-Buffet of material. But eh, it's kind of depressing, don't ya think? Especially that part with the fathead making fun of the unfortunate beheading is downright disgusting. I hope he chokes on a chicken bone. The odds are good he'll choke on an entire chicken. I had to say it.

Besides, I still got the Spring Fever. Or that could be the hay fever. And it's almost summer by now, isn't it? Excellent. I'll be counting the days til the autumnal equinox now: 128 days from today. Never say I can't find the silver lining.

See, I had nothing constructive to say. I'd hate for this blog to take a turn for the nasty. So I'll have to think of something good to talk about besides "The Swan" being Almost Over. So when I can't think of anything good to say, it's time for a product review!

This blog may just turn into a Product Review Blog in that case. So hey, let's celebrate with a Pom Wonderful!




O Holy Mother of All That is Good. That's what this drink is. Overwhelmingly good. I had the Blueberry. Now I won't be able to concentrate until I have one of each somehow. It was one of those moments. It was so good, I went momentarily blind after I drank it. And not in that moonshine way. More like in "the first time you ever had birthday cake" way. Make the world a better place one mouth at a time, and try one of these today.

Next on the list: Hershey's Caramel Kisses and Klaus Nomi.

Today's aphorism, and another useless tagline from the past.

"Bring a sequinned hat and make a little money. It's Memphis."

"It's not nice to fool Mother Nature."




It's one of those days when I have nothing to say. I mean, like, absolutely nothing to say. It'd be nice to have at least one thing to say, but no. I got nothin'.

See?

Oh well.

My great big fat cat scratched Ron on the eyelid the other day and he lived to tell the tale. Ron thinks it was because his eye was twitching in his sleep. I'm sure that twitch has nothing to do with me.



Behold. My great big fat cat:






Besides eating and terrorizing an eyelid here and there, that's all he does. All day long. I wish I was my cat.

I told you I had nothing to contribute here today.

Nothing. And definitely nothing as cool as this. I will always love that little Fly Guy.

Oh well. Gimme a minute. Maybe I can think of something. Anything.









Nope.


Maybe tomorrow. Until then, spend some quality time with Kyle. Kyle is never at a loss for... whatever it is they call those things....