Open blogger window...begin typing...

WELL now.....another eon has gone by since I last updated. I won't apologize for the quiet. You lot have better things to do than wait around for me to regale you with my slightly slanted views on life and marginally literate ramblings.

Let's see, let's see....what's going on with me these days, you may well never care to ask?

Well, for one thing, I'm still spending a lot of time taking care of Luna, the high-maintenance, low-vigor kitty, in her convalescence. She's doing great - looking good, feeling good, eating, playing, cuddling - but she still needs to be separated from the other two cats. So she's still living in her own apartment in the basement, and I spend as much time with her as I can, playing, cuddling, jamming meds down her ungrateful throat - and since my computer is not in that part of the house, and I'm too busy at work to do much more than the occasional comment on some other blogs - this little corner of the internet has been dormant.

In other news, I'm also on day 13 of another no booze, no coffee liver detox. Just like last time, the healthy bloom returned to my cheeks within only a few days, and I've been able to get my sorry-white-dimpled arse out of bed at 6:30AM a few work days a week so I can jump on the elliptical for a bit before going to work. It feels fucking MARVELOUS, let me tell you.

Skin - luminous.
Energy - like that annoying flip-flop wearing toy rabbit with the drum.
Digestion - clockwork.
Weight loss - oh, it's happening.

On March 15, however, SPOUSE and I have Bruins tickets, so in order to enjoy the hockey in the spirit with which it was intended, I will end my healthy little detox by starting my day with a bellyful of Dunkin' Donuts goodness, and greet noontime with as much beer as is humanly possible to consume for the 1PM puck drop. Mmmmmm.....coffee and beer....it's like a speedball, only legal. Huzzah!

Gearing up at work for my busiest time of year. Dragging at least 40 exhausted, foot-dragging doctoral students through the last stages of the program, and getting them graduated, despite their running out of steam and unpredictable faculty advisors and thesis committees. So between early March and late May, I'm a bag of thesis processing, faculty nagging, data massaging, list producing, assholes. I should get an honorary doctorate, hear me?

I've got a couple more Nostradamus blogging predictions in the works, but time and inspiration aren't always happy bedfellows and rarely come at the same time. Hee. So I hope to have one or two up by the weekend. Maybe. Maybe not.

So...there it is. More soon, I hope.

Oh, by the way, the blogger formerly known as ******* is back. He's Gaius now. Must have crawled out of a government facility someplace, and doesn't want them to find him. I, for one, welcome him back. Even though he is, frankly, a bit of a cunt.

More Lost Blogging Predictions of Nostradamus

Nostradamus Blog Predictions Part II

Fatmammycat and the Ankles of the Apocalypse

"And also in the second month, she of the delightful ankles will eschew all form of potent drink, causing her temple to glow with the fires of healthful energy.

And lo, this shall be the first sign of the apocalypse.

Her associates grow fecund and are bereft of all thought besides those of their issue, and on each fifth day she shall enfame unfortunate gingers for the derisive laughter of her followers.

And her image shall be given a darling matching purse to go with her little hat and collar."

Nostradamus and His Lost Blogging Predictions

Nostradamus Blog Predictions - Part I

Twenty Major and the Order of Phoenix Park!

"In the Northern Isles on a misty day of the second month, a tome of potty humor will be born of a drunken rambler. Surname of twice ten, never was there a more smoke stained idler in his province.

And great shall be the cuntification of the many.

Famed in the realm of ether, by equally sodden arse-sitters, he shall inspire such silliness by the lamed hare-woman, who needs someone to buy her Photoshop as this prediction took ages to manufacture. "

Oh my god how dreary.

Gonna eat you, fishy. That'll wipe the smile off yer face...

Used to go ice fishing from time to time as a child. Wasn't like this, though. Sitting over a hole with a stick and a string, freezing your arse off, waiting for something to bite.

Oh, no. The way my family did it was classic ADHD ice fishing. We'd take this big honking ice auger, drill 7 or 8 holes in the ice, about 10 yards apart, in random pattern. Then we'd put these traps over the holes. The traps were these odd wooden contraptions with a spool of fishing line and a flag that would get triggered when something yanked on the lines. Then we'd get on our snowmobiles and ride around like crazed hillbillies, trying to lose each other off the backs of the things, while looking around at the traps from time to time in case a fish bit and triggered the flags to go up.

Then, when we were bored with the whole experience, or tired of racing around the ice on our Ski-doos, or half frozen to death, we'd take whatever fish we'd caught, and go home.

The whole process, from drilling the holes to being bored and cold enough to want to go home, took about 2 hours.

(Hey, it's COLD in Maine. I bet most of you couldn't handle much more than a couple of hours on a frozen lake in northern Maine in February. Mr. Beer & Hockey excluded, probably. See, he's Canadian. The rest of you go ahead, try it. See how long it takes you - be it the cold or boredom, something will make you regret being born, as the wind wipes your facial features clean off.)

Then the dead fish would stare out of the freezer at us every time we opened it - until such time as we got sick of looking at them and tossed them. I don't remember eating them. But then, I probably didn't stick around if I knew we were having fish...the smell of gutted fish in the kitchen used to put me off eating and I'd wander over to my friend Jay's house, where something not so nauseating was being served. Like poo on a stick, for example.

Random thought: D'you know what doesn't go together? It's jelly belly sours and tomato juice don't go together.