Monday, October 31, 2016

Peek A BOO!

Happy Halloween!

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Can You Tie 'Em In A Bow?

Life is hard when your ears drag on the ground.  Doesn't mean it's not cute though.

Saturday, October 22, 2016

The Wicked Witch Of The East LIVES!

I got another "inmate" early last week.  Boo is adorable, a love bug, and an unrepentant biter.  Think the bunnies from Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

"Yes, I will bite your head off."
She actually sat on my lap and then decided to bite me on the face.  Why?  Because in her previous home she was terrorized by children and their grabby hands.

Over several days she started to act like the velociraptor from Jurassic Park: she systematically tested the fence for weaknesses.

On Monday I came home to this.

Can you see Boo in this picture?

Those are her legs sticking out from behind the futon.  She tried to escape while I wasn't home, jumped the fence, aimed wrong, and got stuck upside down between the futon and the wall.  All evidence points to her being stuck there for hours, like maybe 9 or 10.

I freaked.  Ask my parents.  I FUH-REAKED.

I had a dead rabbit in my guest room, of course I freaked!

Turns out though, Boo wasn't dead.

Cue more freaking.

She was injured so went back to the shelter for eval and treatment.  I got a text: "She's happy and eating".  Of course she's happy, she completed her escape!

Hairy Houdini post-magic trick
The shelter is convinced she is a superhero.  I'm convinced she's just planning her next prison break.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Crawl Before Ball

On Sunday I played my first hockey game.  Over the summer I slowly accumulated a full set of gear from free and cheap sources with the goal of playing for real somehow, somewhere.  With help from the director of the city's sports division, I got accepted as a sub in the local "organized no-check pick-up" league.  After nearly a year since my first lesson with the kids' class, blade finally met ice.  And then quickly, breezers, shoulder pads, helmet, and blood met ice.

I got my shit rocked - there is no other way to put it - three times.  The reality is that my spatial awareness and ability to stop on a dime are mutually exclusive right now.  Don't even ask about those combined with stick handling.  But the reality is also that my rink-mates' remain somewhat mutually exclusive as well.

The first time: I was coming across center ice looking right to watch for a breakout from a defensive play and so was someone else and we ran smack, stomach-to-stomach into each other - except I'm about 9 inches shorter.  All I saw was the crest on his jersey as I face planted into...honestly, his beer belly....and then, of course, nothing but lights.  His head snapped forward and between his visored helmet (no cage) and the top of my helmet, his nose got destroyed.  There was a fu manchu worth of blood.

The second time: I ran into the back of my teammate as he backed up suddenly.

And the third: I got boarded by another teammate who didn't see me there.

Somewhere my parents are reading this and my mother is hyperventilating.  But these are not malevolent guys.  They're just full-grown men with 30-60 pound advantages on me.  May the physics be never in my favor.

Maybe I should have prioritized equipment that I actually had to pay for.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Call Me Marla

It's Friday night and I'm attending a Cocaine Anonymous 12 Step meeting for a class assignment.

When I envisioned myself living out scenes from Fight Club, these were not the scenes I expected.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

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