1. I can comment on how boring this post was

  2. This post reminded me a lot of my second to last post. Guess I have nothing to say.....well...I got a job as a head tech for a water remediation company...guess that is something to say...

  3. What do you want me to do?!

    Make up something exciting that happened but didn't actually happen just so you can be entertained?!

  4. um...yes? LOL! Come back soon! I check every morning to see if there are new blogs... I love your blog!

  5. Amy, recount the story about how the animal control officer down the street has been put on administrative leave because she was found with a truckload of black-market puli puppies, and tell us what you learned about the REAL reason why she had them in her truck, along with a hibachi grill and the podium used by Bill Clinton during his first Inaugural Address on January 21, 1993. And why did she paint her truck a Glorious Technicolor Chartreuse at precisely midnight between Candlemas and Imbolg? I mean, honestly, why Groundhog Day? I don't get it.

    Tell us, what do you know about the legend that there is a man living behind a trap door in a Wal-Mart in Kansas, and if you give him a lemon, he'll accurately predict your death-date for you.

    You've never told us the reason why, on May 23, 1999, you and Christina took a trip up north to that vast and mysteriously ancient bowl of diamonds and cold iron that they call Meteor Crater, or why the back seat of your car was full of burnt ceramic Kachina masks and an old worm-eaten buffalo hide when you got back. You never had a good excuse for why you pestered and nagged me for two days afterward, until I finally agreed to follow you two to Lowell Observatory on Mars Hill, and then have me drive to that bankrupt wild-animal park outside Two-Guns, drive counter-clockwise around the place, and stand on the roof of my Cadillac while the sun set with a burning and sparking road flare in one hand and half a bottle of Peruvian Pisco in the other. And why did my car always smell of wild tansies from then on? And where the crap did those Kachinas end up?

    And while we're at it, you never finished explaining to me why you made me go to the Kentucky Club in Oklahoma City and meet with T. Lobsang Rampa in the H.H. Holmes Room over hot chocolate and crempots.

    I mean really?! Why?! How did that signify? All he did was talk about the philosophical benefits of trepanation and the genius of Andy Warhol for three hours, and then he jumped up on the table and screamed out, "I am the Walrus! I am the dice man! Koo koo katchoo!" Then he kicked over a spittoon, threw his cravat into the fire and jumped out the window into the fountain between the bushes.

    What was that all about?

    I guess it was important, but seriously, I need trepanation like I need a hole in my head.

    Golly, Amy, I had to bribe a security guard on the way out and Lobsang wound up sending me an invoice for the breakfast and the consultation fee and a new cravat, which you said you'd pay for, but I never saw the money or the cream-cheese oatmeal cookies you promised me for my troubles! And no, those molasses biscottis with the cinnamon sprinkles don't count.

    Anyway, you got some 'splaining to do! Get to it!

  6. Dan, have you been reading a really bad novel or something?

  7. i'm in a slump toooo :( hopefully our natural joyfullness and insightfulness will come bursting back soon. :) Hugs

  8. I hear ya. I get in those too, then I just start making stuff up. Hope to hear from you soon!

  9. Dan...I love you.

    And I really wish I knew what tansies were.

  10. The wild tansy is a kind of flower.

    In the Victorian language of flowers, the wild tansy was a message of WAR.


If you can't say something nice, say it behind my back.