The Arts

Here's the Shredder, planning to hurl himself at the fish tank to try and catch fish, I guess. He does it repeatedly, and he does it every single day. He HAS to have brain damage by now, it always looks painful.

I have started to do "paint by numbers". No, don't ask. It has to do with a supposed Christmas present arriving two months too late - maybe it was meant to be? On the other hand, the gene fairy did not hand me the artistic gene - probably thought the "bungle" gene would be more entertaining. And so it has proved to be. God has a sense of humor. Heh.

But, I paint. It is very relaxing. So far my picture looks like something an eight year old would do, but it is MY painting. I can make it look however I want. And no, you can't see it. Probably never. It will turn up in my closet of unfinished projects after I'm dead. I hope.

I thought for a minute about taking some classes, but I realize that they probably expect you to paint outside the lines. eeek. So I continue on with my "Water Lilies" by Monet. I have to say, it doesn't bear the least resemblance to the picture, so far. But we will see how it turns out.

There's one for Bob, too - horses - but he's rebelling. I thought it would help with his hand-eye coordination but I guess nothing will help with that.

That reminds me of when Lisa bought Joe a jigsaw puzzle, after he was diagnosed with brain tumors. And after Bob had brain surgery, she brought him one of those chained logic puzzles.

We are a strange bunch.

Update On So-Called Car

It does not need a new thermostat! On the other hand, it is dumping anti-freeze out the intake manifold. eeek. And we all know what that means, don't we? aacck


What's an intake manifold?

I Didn't Know

I didn't know it was national shopping cart month, did you?
Lileks is on top of it - if you don't read Lileks, well, you should:
http://www.startribune.com/804/story/1004350.html
and scroll down.

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Halp Us, Al Gore

... We are stuk here n the snooowwww.
Where is my global warming??????? Al?

I.Want.It.Back. Now.
This is a bunch of horse poop. Well, no actually it's a bunch of snow.

I could not open the back door Wednesday morning to let the dog out because of two feet of snow holding it shut. Scary, huh? What if it blocked in the front door too? We would be stuck in here for the rest of our lives. Gawd. So I trudged around back in snow up over my knees and in my pajamas and shoveled that horse doo doo away from the door. Well, no, it's snow, not horse poop, I forgot. Aaaack. Oh, and I didn't go to work. Take THAT.

I guess Lew and Vicki think I'm a wuss, cause I hear that they had 10 ft. of snow where they are. It's all in your PERSPECTIVE.

They're calling it the blizzard of 2007. Evidently we haven't had one since ...hmmm...1978. I guess. Whatever.

And my so-called car now probably needs a thermostat.

Just days after setting the house afire with his flame thrower, Bob today says the snow blower spewed gas all over the garage and that's why I smell gas in there; and that he soaked it up with cat litter and now we should be all right, and we won't blow up. This is meant to reassure me. (Just what exactly goes on around here when I'm not home???) Well, if the house does explode, we could build a new one I guess. It could be all good. Although I prefer the house to blow up in the summer, when it's warmer so we don't have to sleep in the horse poop while the new house is being built. I mean snow, not horse poop. Anyway, we could sleep in my so-called car, instead of the

horse poop

snow.

so it could serve some useful purpose. The car, I mean.

Happy day after Valentine's day you all. Didja get any flowers? Me neither. I guess my admirers are worried about causing global warming with the dadgum things.

Ahahahaha:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17170991/

It Shall Remain Nameless

The water pipes were frozen here this morning when I got up, so I foolishly woke up Bob instead of just putting heaters around. What was I thinking.

By 9:00 (I went to work - called home) he had melted two of the remaining plastic pipes and set fire to the wall with his blow torch or some such. I call it his flame thrower. He asked me where all we have smoke detectors. ???

I came home tonight to find that I am not allowed to question him about any of this, not even to ask if the fire is definitely out. It is taken as "criticism" of his plumbing skills and "next time we can just pay someone $1,000 to fix it!"

So, it is the Thing I Can't Talk About.

But I am going to buy one of those super duper utility heaters and be ready for next time. Next time I will let him sleep.

I think that would be best.