Maybe we need to get Mexico to build us a new Wall.
This American model isn’t getting the job done.
This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I could use a couple of bucks to tide me over until the end of the month.
Posts Tagged ‘Spike the Terrorist Deer’
Badaboom, badabing
November 30, 2018Mooned
September 24, 2018
It’s all downhill from here.
Tonight is the Harvest Moon.
That’s not it up there. That’s a view of the north end of Duke City from just below the Tramway. And it looks much better in that photo than 11 p.m. does on the Timex, especially if you went to sleep, or thought you did, at 10.
Mom’s chili (Mom not included).
I blame the moon. But what actually woke me last night after an hour of sleep was probably Spike the Terrorist Deer noshing on our pear tree, or Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment), trash-talking at him.
“Yaaaaaaaah! Gedoudaheeeeeah! ’Member what happened to your momma, Bambi?”
Naturally, I hollered for my momma, but she’s been dead almost as long as Bambi’s, and having seen way too many horror movies I really didn’t want her coming back on my account. She might have her own agenda.
So as a sort of substitute and/or magic potion I’m making her famous chili from a stained, tattered recipe card the old gal typed up herself. It was one of the rare occasions when I asked her for something other than money to buy drugs.
And if that’s not weird enough for you, how ’bout this?
When I woke up at 11, I felt rested.
But I went back to sleep anyway.
The foggy dew
September 23, 2018
Uh oh, look out, it’s clouding up over the Sandias.
And boom! That’s it. Summer’s a goner.
I could feel it yesterday. The day was sunny but cool, and nobody would have sneered if I’d started my ride with arm warmers, even knee warmers. The hairy legs might have drawn a few hoots back in the day, but that was … well, back in the day.
“Yes indeed, this will do nicely,” says Miss Mia Sopaipilla.
Miss Mia Sopaipilla was inspecting the Winter Bunker on behalf of His Excellency, Field Marshal Turkish von Turkenstein (commander, 1st Feline Home Defense Regiment).
Spike the Terrorist Deer has slipped inside the wire a time or two in recent days and The Leader often feels it wise to devise strategy far from the distractions of frontline combat.
Today seemed a day to boil the breakfast early — McCann’s Irish Oatmeal, Twining’s Irish Breakfast tea, and like that there.
Why, yes, funny you should ask, Herself is still a-roving around County Sligo with her younger sister, inspecting waterfalls and poets’ graves, quaffing pints of the black, and shooting iPhone video of a harpist playing “The Foggy Dew,” one of the tunes collected from the Belfast Harp Festival of 1792 by Edward Bunting, a 19-year-old organist from Armagh.
When I was 19 the only Harp I knew came in bottles. You don’t want to know what I was doing with me organ.
