Now he is sitting in his litter box glaring but smelling like baby shampoo.

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Max says oh no

photo: bookgrl - Flickr

I was sitting at my desk chowing down on a yummy cup cake the darling wife had made, I was contemplating whether to eat the spongy cake part. I had already licked off the best part, the fluffy frosting and the multi-colored sprinkles, I wouldn’t want the missus to think I didn’t appreciate her hard work so I scoffed the rest down. I balled up the paper cup cake thingy that the cake was in and tossed it at the waste paper bin. It hit the trash and managed to stay in the bin; I’d better empty that before it overflows onto the floor.

As I was looking at the bin I was aware of Carolyn’s office chair spinning round and she was now facing me, oops, I glanced up and yes, her eyebrow did that arched thing, “I was about to empty the bin dear,” I smiled sweetly.

“It’s not that, well yes, it’s the overflowing bin, but not just that…”

“I said I was…,” I interrupted.

“Don’t interrupt,” she interrupted, “it is that I do not know why you are throwing all your trash into my trash bin when you have a perfectly good and empty bin under your own desk.”

“I do?,” I pushed back the keyboard tray and popped my head under my desk, “I do! So that’s where it went,” the eyebrow was still arched, “I’ll empty the trash.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, by the way the cupcake was lovely.”

“Thanks, and by ‘the cupcake’ you mean the six cupcakes?”

“Er, well, they were awesome.”

[cue eye roll and head shake]

So I took the trash out.

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

It’s all trash

Photo: Zenera, flickr

In other news, I had the doc slice off a weird looking mole from the small of my back, got three stitches and developed an allergic reaction to the Band-Aids which means my back is doubly itchy.

Despite having an evil grin and beady eyes the little blighter turned out to be benign, woot.

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Moley moley

Anywhathooha, as we waited there were a couple of girls talking about how one of them had been in downtown Seattle during the Gay Pride Parade.

“There were loads of naked people on bikes and roller blades.”

“Really, naked?”

“Yeah, they had paint covering certain areas of their body. Who in their right minds goes out naked like that? They were all old too, in their 40’s and 50’s, all wrinkly and shit.”

Me being in my 40’s and Carolyn in her very early 50’s (51) smiled and felt kinda old. I think old people are people in their 80’s and 90’s.

Oh to be young.

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Old and wrinkly

Okay, I have been informed with a raised eyebrow, that they are for clipping bags of chips shut before putting them back into the cupboard, ha that’s me told.

Anyhoozit, I pick up one of these pegs and of course I do what every bare-chested guy holding a clothes peg does, yep, attaches it to one of my nipples. As I let go of the peg and it clamps with full force I let out a little whimper and an expletive and whip it off quick like.

Upon doing this Carolyn smiles pushes me up against the wall and passionately kisses me!

Dang, are there some S&M tendencies broaching the surface there methinks? I offer her the peg; “Would you like to try it?”

“What do I look stupid?” and off she walks shaking her head as per usual.

What? wait, huh, now I’m all confused.

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Marquis de clothes peg

One Saturday rather than take a bus into downtown of my own hometown to peruse the stores I decided to hop on the bus to London and check out Oxford Street. The weather was hot and I was wearing one of new silk shirts, purple if I recall.

The bus turned down the end of Oxford street in London heading for my stop, outside I could hear the blasts of whistles and a lot of shouting and music. I got off the bus and headed up Oxford Street wondering what the commotion was about, about halfway up coming towards me is the Gay Pride Parade. Whistling, singing and shouting and carrying signs, everyone was having fun, gay in every sense of the word you could say. Buzz cuts, big mustaches and brightly colored outfits abounded as well as the Village People outfits, butch looking gals and guys in dresses.

Was certainly an eye opener for me, never seen so many gay people all in one place before, as I was walking up the street in the opposite direction I got a few whistles and a few shouts that I was going in the wrong direction, I’m sure my face went brighter than my shirt. Made me a bit self-conscious, in every store I went into I kept getting the feeling people were looking and pointing at me; “Look it’s one of them.”

Needless to say, thereafter whenever I ventured to London I checked to see if any parades or the like were happening beforehand so as I wouldn’t clash!

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

My first and last Gay Pride parade

Sitting at my desk a few feet away but not wearing my glasses I got up to go look closer.

“I think it is tacky,” I tell her looking at the image she is looking at.

“You find that tacky?”

“Well dear, yes, I find a wedding cake made of meatloaf tacky, but I guess whatever floats your boat.”

“You wouldn’t like it if I made you one?”

“Love, I can’t get enough of your meatloaf but not as a cake with all the accouterments such as the wedding topper, flowers and hearts thank you.”

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Wedding cake

I took a trip to one of those big box “Mart” type stores to get some items I needed. Happily filling my basket until I couldn’t find some widgets I was looking for. I looked around for a shop assistant (associate or whatever they are called nowadays) to help. I saw a guy standing at a shelf totally engrossed in his task, he was moving a product from one shelf to another as if trying to decide where it looked best. I walked up and asked;

“Where do I find the widgets?”

He turned and had a sour look on his face because I had interrupted him, “They’re at the south end of the store,” he answered and turned back to his shelf, he didn’t point or nod his head in any direction. “Thanks,” I turned and was walking away when I realized I had no idea where the south end of the store was.

Are Americans born with an innate sense of direction?

I turned back and walked up to the guy again; feeling a bit facetious, “Where would I find a compass?”

This time he turned and slouched his shoulders and gave me a look that could kill, “In the school supply section near the books.”

“Oh, no not a compass for drawing a circle, I want one to tell direction, you know a compass.”

“Compass for direction.”

“Yes, you know round thing with a dial and a pointer that points to magnetic north.”

“D’uh, I know what a compass is,” ¹ he then proceeded to look around furrowing his brow obviously thinking hard, “mmm, I’m not sure where or if we have those, I’ll have to ask someone,” this he said with a dejected pissed off tone, I was sorry I bothered him. As he turned to go find someone to ask I stopped him, “While you ask someone can you point out where the widgets are.”

His arm shot up and he jabbed towards the widgets, “Over there,” then he trudged off to find someone. As he walked away I went to the aisle he pointed out and filled my basket with widgets, as I was doing this some guy was walking around looking lost. We made eye contact and he asked if I knew where the doodads where, still in a facetious mood, “Against the wall at the north east end of the store.”

“Thanks,” he replied and shot off in an apparent north easterly direction.

How do they know?

Thanks for visiting.

1. the compasses are located near the sports section with the other Coleman camping and outdoors stuff apparently

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Innate sense of direction

In our thoughts

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

In Memoriam

“What?” the wife asks, adopting the hands on hips pose expecting some inane response from me, she knows me so well.

“I said they looked like cluster bombs.”

“What did? Wait, I heard you mumbling something about poop, seagulls, rain…” now she adds the head tilt to her posture.

“I was saying that I was waiting down town in the rain waiting for a bus to work. I was standing under a canopy and I observed a huge seagull flying up the middle of the road heading for a lamppost. Just before landing on the lamppost it did a huge crap and the white gobs of poop dropped from its arse hung in the air and dropped to the floor like cluster bombs. I was glad I was under cover.”

The wife engages eye roll mode, turns and walks away shaking her head muttering; “I married a loon!”

What?

Thanks for visiting.

Post from: Slightly Mordant Copyright 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Cluster bombs in the rain