Sunday, October 19, 2003
autodidactic asphxiation--the excessive self-manipulation of one's thought processes, resulting in death. The mechanism of death is a incoherent ejaculation of so-called "big" words, or in some cases, manual strangulation at the hands of a person subjected to the torrent over-reaching thoughts and cut-and-paste philosophy. If the masturbatory autodidact does not choke on his own words any reasonable stanger should do it for him.
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Sunday, October 12, 2003
BLOGGER! BE GONE FROM ME. there's nothing more to say...
I love my strepsons. They were both well this weekend. This was our schedule:
10:00 Keenan Basketball @ bridgeview elem.
10:00 Zane Soccer @ Danner Field
11:00 Richard Curry @ WV Room (be there 20 min. early)
2:00 Zane basketball practice @ rec center
2:30 Keenan Soccer @ Triester field at Cato park
3:00 Lee Maynard @ parlor B (be there 20 min. early)
I'm going to get up early and take them to Crispy Creme DoNuts. And set Zane up with a watch tomorrow. He's asking a lot of questions about the clock.
They were both great during the time that they were with me at the book festival today. Had to cut the basketball practices; there will be others. Roast chicken, Italian veggies, bread and... on the menu for Sunday dinner. The deep freeze is essential to family life.
We got called up to the majors this past week and looks like it will be a long haul with Granpa. He'll soon be coming for an extended visit. Keenan, the oldest boy, is excited because he thinks that he might be smarter than Granpa now. He wanted to know if Granpa remembered that 2+2 is 4. Zane, who is six, knows that Granpa is sick.
They got books at the book festival's used book sale. Keenan stayed with me for a while as I worked and got to talk into the microphone (he was shy). He thought I was cool because I got to take up the festival evaluation sheets from the attendees. He said that I was like his teacher taking up papers at school--HE THINKS TEACHERS ARE COOL! I'm glad of that. He picked up a PC Game called The Robot Club. Going to try to install that on my computer tonight. Right now.
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I love my strepsons. They were both well this weekend. This was our schedule:
10:00 Keenan Basketball @ bridgeview elem.
10:00 Zane Soccer @ Danner Field
11:00 Richard Curry @ WV Room (be there 20 min. early)
2:00 Zane basketball practice @ rec center
2:30 Keenan Soccer @ Triester field at Cato park
3:00 Lee Maynard @ parlor B (be there 20 min. early)
I'm going to get up early and take them to Crispy Creme DoNuts. And set Zane up with a watch tomorrow. He's asking a lot of questions about the clock.
They were both great during the time that they were with me at the book festival today. Had to cut the basketball practices; there will be others. Roast chicken, Italian veggies, bread and... on the menu for Sunday dinner. The deep freeze is essential to family life.
We got called up to the majors this past week and looks like it will be a long haul with Granpa. He'll soon be coming for an extended visit. Keenan, the oldest boy, is excited because he thinks that he might be smarter than Granpa now. He wanted to know if Granpa remembered that 2+2 is 4. Zane, who is six, knows that Granpa is sick.
They got books at the book festival's used book sale. Keenan stayed with me for a while as I worked and got to talk into the microphone (he was shy). He thought I was cool because I got to take up the festival evaluation sheets from the attendees. He said that I was like his teacher taking up papers at school--HE THINKS TEACHERS ARE COOL! I'm glad of that. He picked up a PC Game called The Robot Club. Going to try to install that on my computer tonight. Right now.
Tuesday, October 07, 2003
Monday--October 6, 2003 (Call of the Wild Chipmunk):
9:00 am-- My lead dog Chivas flushed the creature from
its den and chased it through the office while I was
working on my morning correspondence. I only saw the
scurrying shadow as it made its escape under the bed.
I suspect it is a field mouse and comfort Zane by
saying as much, but it seems large for a field mouse.
I doubt that I have seen the last of this beast.
There is no time to deal with it now; the boy is sick
and I must get him to Doc DeTemple.
10:30 am-- Doc has put a name to the disease that has
plagued us these past few days--Strep Throat. A call
has been made to the nearby town of South Charleston
for medicine. South Charleston--HA! The name itself
mocks me as a bitter wind from the north blows through
the open window. Winter will be upon us soon. I only
hope that we can get the medicine in time. Meanwhile,
the creature stalks through the house without fear.
It seems to sense our weakness. I caught a glimpse of
the thing as it darted under the TV stand. By its
markings I say it's either a small badger or a very
large chipmunk. I fear the worst.
11:00 am--We have just returned from the Rite Aid and
our spirits have lightened now that we have the
Zythromax (tm). While in town we have taken on
provisions and the boy seems well enough to eat. I am
fixing Chef Boyardee and left-over spaghetti. Our
situation seems less grave with food in the microwave,
but the specter of the creature haunts me in idle
moments. How could it have gotten in? I feel ashamed
at having let down my guard and exposed the child to
this danger. In weaker moments I try shirk my
responsiblity and put the blame for this lurking
terror on the cats--they must have dragged it in to
play with/kill at their leasure. No, the blame is
mine. I have decided to search for the breach in
security this thing has exploited. I'm determined
that this will not happen again...
12:00--It is useless! I have found no means of entry
for it and the damage has already been done. The
scent of our food must have brought the creature out
of hiding and at last I have seen clearly and have a
name for what has these last few hours filled my heart
with dread. It is as I feared--a chipmunk of
staggering proportions. I must confess that I have
never been at such close quarters with this species of
rodent but it appears incredibly large. For days now
the cats have been on a rampage of indiscreminant
killing and the remains of birds, mice, and yes,
chipmunks have littered our doorstep--I can think of
no reason for this intrusion in my home other than
rodent revenge. I know what I must do...
1:00 pm--I have barricaded Zane in the office playing
the Reader Rabbit computer game and he is blissfully
unaware of the carnage that will soon come. All other
rooms have been blocked off and I have stationed
myself on the couch in living room as bait. For his
comfort and in attempt to lure my adversary to a false
sense of security, I pretend to be unaware of the
danger to myself . My only hope is that the chipmunk
has not counted on my human ablility to fashion tools.
I have what was once a wire coat-hanger by my side
and thousands of years of evolutionary will to survive
to my credit. I hope that this is enough.
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9:00 am-- My lead dog Chivas flushed the creature from
its den and chased it through the office while I was
working on my morning correspondence. I only saw the
scurrying shadow as it made its escape under the bed.
I suspect it is a field mouse and comfort Zane by
saying as much, but it seems large for a field mouse.
I doubt that I have seen the last of this beast.
There is no time to deal with it now; the boy is sick
and I must get him to Doc DeTemple.
10:30 am-- Doc has put a name to the disease that has
plagued us these past few days--Strep Throat. A call
has been made to the nearby town of South Charleston
for medicine. South Charleston--HA! The name itself
mocks me as a bitter wind from the north blows through
the open window. Winter will be upon us soon. I only
hope that we can get the medicine in time. Meanwhile,
the creature stalks through the house without fear.
It seems to sense our weakness. I caught a glimpse of
the thing as it darted under the TV stand. By its
markings I say it's either a small badger or a very
large chipmunk. I fear the worst.
11:00 am--We have just returned from the Rite Aid and
our spirits have lightened now that we have the
Zythromax (tm). While in town we have taken on
provisions and the boy seems well enough to eat. I am
fixing Chef Boyardee and left-over spaghetti. Our
situation seems less grave with food in the microwave,
but the specter of the creature haunts me in idle
moments. How could it have gotten in? I feel ashamed
at having let down my guard and exposed the child to
this danger. In weaker moments I try shirk my
responsiblity and put the blame for this lurking
terror on the cats--they must have dragged it in to
play with/kill at their leasure. No, the blame is
mine. I have decided to search for the breach in
security this thing has exploited. I'm determined
that this will not happen again...
12:00--It is useless! I have found no means of entry
for it and the damage has already been done. The
scent of our food must have brought the creature out
of hiding and at last I have seen clearly and have a
name for what has these last few hours filled my heart
with dread. It is as I feared--a chipmunk of
staggering proportions. I must confess that I have
never been at such close quarters with this species of
rodent but it appears incredibly large. For days now
the cats have been on a rampage of indiscreminant
killing and the remains of birds, mice, and yes,
chipmunks have littered our doorstep--I can think of
no reason for this intrusion in my home other than
rodent revenge. I know what I must do...
1:00 pm--I have barricaded Zane in the office playing
the Reader Rabbit computer game and he is blissfully
unaware of the carnage that will soon come. All other
rooms have been blocked off and I have stationed
myself on the couch in living room as bait. For his
comfort and in attempt to lure my adversary to a false
sense of security, I pretend to be unaware of the
danger to myself . My only hope is that the chipmunk
has not counted on my human ablility to fashion tools.
I have what was once a wire coat-hanger by my side
and thousands of years of evolutionary will to survive
to my credit. I hope that this is enough.
