Oct 31, 2004

Sam Hain? Who the heck is that?

Success! The broadcast went out this morning! I pirated a signal on that geosynchronous DVD sattelite owned by Ted Turner, and his entire confession went out to the world, superceeding a colorized version of "Night Of The Living Dead."

How pitiful he was! Reading his little confession, denouncing his co-conspirators, letting the world know...

Hang on, someone's at the door. I'll bet it those horrid little fake skellingtons and ghouls, begging for candy. I'll be right back, I've got the garden hose ready to go.

I can't believe it. Amnesty International. That knock on the door? It was Sting. I was so pleased! I'm a huge fan! Well, he stood there, in his cocky British accent and his black frock coat and his tantric sex and he denounced ME! ME!!! And said that he (and a cadre of long-haired pinko commie hippies) were here to release Nebuchadnezzer and return him to his rightful place in mouse society, and press charges against me! 'Crimes against mouseanity' indeed! The fool!

The remainder of this blog has been seized by the Department of Justice, for use in the trial of Irrelephant, founder of the Peoples Liberation Front of New Mexico.

Please go home, there's nothing more to be seen here.

Go on, move along.

Yes, you there, go on.

Stop reading, go home.

Keep moving.

Oct 29, 2004

Anagrams, pallindromes and alliterations, oh my!

I've been backup delivery driver for work now for two days. I'm starting to get used to driving around in "R."

Also, when I drive the truck around, I'm sort of a rolling pun: the truck is an Isuzu NQR. The bigger size up, the one that the next-door furniture company uses for delivery is an Isuzu NPR. I listen to NPR in my NQR when I deliver...uhm...PDQ. See? It's a pun.

No wait, not a pun, it's a pallindrome.

No, it's not either; a pallindrome of NQR would be RQN.


Gonna have to figure that one out.

Oh, and very very happy birthdays to Demented Diamond Dave 'way over in Budapest, North Texas, and to my dear lovely wife the Pensive Lemur who is here at home today while I slave away over a hot delivery truck, and last but by no means least to Danny and his brother Wilbur, who have changed my life more than I first realised.

Oct 28, 2004

Don't touch that dial!

The little bugger escaped earlier. I can't know the extent of the damage he has done to my system, to the delicate infrastructure of my network and spies, but I think, for the most part, all is intact. Late last night I managed to recapture him. The foolish mouse was trying to rejoin his fellow co-conspirators and warn them that their master plan had been broken, their ploys and plots were to be destroyed by one man, soon to be the victor over rodentia all over the world! Ah, the look on his tiny grey face when I recaptured him! He fell for the cheese again. The foolish will always repeat their mistakes.

That and I think the lunar eclipse somehow stunned him. Perhaps it IS made of cheese?

No matter! The broadcast goes out today. Stay tuned.

Oct 26, 2004

A kind word

Michael, I suggest strongly that you get your sorry, broken-ass self well as fast as possible. I'm sick and f**king tired of worrying how you are. Hell, you've got morphine on tap--you've got it good and don't know it. Snowed under, sheets changed underneath you every day, sponge baths--sheesh.

If you want to send Michael wilted flowers or dead insects or anything thoughtful like that, he's at Tulane Medical down in New Orleans, LA, in rm. #7225. I'm told he'll be there at the hospital for surgery perhaps as soon as tomorrow, and then rehabilitation therapy for about a month.

Get better, you f**kwad.

Oct 25, 2004

foolish biped!

i am excaped!

long live the resestence! mausekind will rain supreme! we shall conker your foul world, and mice wil take over there riteful place as mans master!

to mi brothrs: squeak! i will join yu soon!

Oct 24, 2004

Rodentia Vulgaris Abuse 1001

Did you know, if you rub a mouse's tail JUST right, they...well, never mind.

I have broken him! Seventeen hours of straight interrogation, backed with hot lamps, rubber hoses, dripping water, and the local public radio's pledge drive playing in the background.

He was strong. I admire him for his strength. I was afraid (for a short time there) that he would hold out, that somehow he would defeat me in the end. But I endured, and he finally broke! Squeaked his little heart out! The entire plot, the structure of his terrorist organisation (M.O.U.S.E., the Mobile Outrageous Umbilical Separation Entity, dedicated to the erradication of all mankind's major appliances) and his cell contacts.

I think perhaps today I shall have him sign the confession, and tomorrow he will read it on national TV.

Oct 22, 2004


I was taking the short way home today. How was I to know that the police would want me to put it back?

Oct 21, 2004


It is done! I have captured the foul creature! The interrogation begins. I have my rubber hoses, the bright light, and I even started smoking so I can blow smoke in his little face! Ah, the sweet victory!!

Oct 20, 2004

What's black and white and yellow all over?

I was put in charge of finding some secular art to hang in the local pastor's home today. How was I to know that he would find Robert Maplethorpe offensive?

Oct 19, 2004

Altar boy humour

So I said to him, "Excuse me monsignor, that's my anus."

Oct 18, 2004

The monkeys, they don't "do it," they "make love."

Okay, so I went to the zoo yesterday. The pressures of home and job and everything finally came to a head, and so I took some time off. Hopped on the bike, and took off. Got to the zoo, figuring "What harm can happen at a ZOO?"

Boy oh boy, was I in for a shock.

Monkeys. Nature's little humans, eh? Ouch. I was so wrong about them. I mean, I was sitting there on a park bench, minding my own business, watching all the big monkeys beating up the little monkeys, when several of the smallest ones crept off to one side and signaled me over. Well, I snuck over there, and one of them revealed their plan to me.

Seems they had bribed the zookeeper with promises of willing women and large quantities of Cuban cigars, and he had agreed to open the cage. They spelled out their entire master plan to me. I guess I have an honest face. But WOW! These guys have it all! Biological weapons, computer launch control systems, heavy transportation, WMD's and secret identities. AND opposable thumbs!

Oct 16, 2004


Yes. My suspicions are founded! I saw him today, the little grey foulness. He ran across my kitchen table while I was eating breakfast, and he stood there for a brief moment, just long enough for me to realise that he was waving a tiny sign that said "Irrelephant must die!"

Unthinkable! This must end!

Damn my slow reflexes with a fork.

Oct 15, 2004


I was up on the roof today, trying to get the AE-35 Unit straightened, and when I jumped, I think I broke my leg. How was I to know that I am not Pumaman, Ancient Defender of the Aztec Peoples?

Yes, jumped. I know, pretty foolish, but it was so bitingly cold this morning (45 degrees) that I didn't want to take the slow way (the ladder) back down again.

Yeah, I can hear you Yankees laughing. "45 degrees is not cold," you say. Well, maybe not to you, living up there where hot tea is a necessity, but spend one week down here in summer and I'll watch you wilt like an azalea on a sidewalk while I sip iced tea (sweet and dark) and giggle. When you get accustomed to 105 degree heat indexes, 45 degrees out is suddenly rather chilly. And heck, I'm one of the few who are more acclimated to the cold; try riding a motorcycle in 45 degree weather. 45 degrees outside, mix in a 65 mph wind chill, and suddenly it feels like you've been jammed up a polar bear's bum.

Oct 14, 2004

Just a pinch of Death

I made First Contact with an extraterrestrial species today. We were making tremendous headway in communications, peace negotiations, inter-species sexual relations, and the cure for cancer. How was I to know that they were terminally allergic to paprikka?

Oct 13, 2004

Geneva be damned

Imagine my suprise. After I tore out all the carpet, I found that my house was riddled with mouseholes! Well, I couldn't have THAT, not a Rodentia Vulgaris living in my house, not paying taxes, eating my food, enjoying my air conditioning! And I couldn't kill the little bugger, but I can't have him living here. And so, I decided.

I went today to the local hardware store, and got one of those little traps that keep the creature alive when you catch him. I figure that I can turn this whole thing to my advantage!
All I have to do is catch the little fiend, keep him alive, torture him, make him sign a confession, rat (as it were) on his co-conspiritors, and publically denounce them, thereby bringing the entire Mouse Race to it's knees.

Today, the master plan is set in motion. The trap is out, the tiny rack is tightened, the bare bedsprings and wet sponges are wired and ready to go, and the confession is typed, awaiting his signature.

Oct 12, 2004

It was a fumumble?

I had the opportunity to travel in time and space this morning in my newly redesigned Time Sweeper Mk II. I whisked myself away to a far away place, distant in time, and found myself in a huge, empty meeting hall.

How did I know that briefcase was a bomb, and wasn't supposed to be moved?

Oct 11, 2004

M5 I ain't

I can't type long, the alien who makes me call him "mother" keeps banging on the walls, and I am afraid the neighbor might hear. I think his dog has already tapped my phones.

So where was I? Ah yes, the vacuum cleaner! In this past week, so many new things have come to light in my life. I mean, the truth about carpet. I will never look at carpet the same way again.

When I found out, I tore out ALL the carpet in my house, piled it up in a huge mound in the back yard, and doused it all in gasoline and set it aflame. After I got my arms and hair put out, and my eyeballs had stopped stinging, I ran to the local handyman store, and got several rooms worth of linoleum. I mean, linoleum is peaceful, quiet, and relatively non-territorial. That, and the vacuum cleaner said that linoleum was the way to go. I trust the vacuum. We have been through a lot together.

Well, anyway, the vacuum said that the carpet went WAYYY back, back to the previous owner of the house, a Roman Centurian. Apparently this guy had a bad habit of knocking the dust from his sandals every time he entered the living room, and the carpet had really absorbed a LOT of abuse, pain, and hard feelings about this. Well, how was I to know that it had been harboring all this hate for so long! Wouch. Well, it's all taken care of now.

I just hope my eyebrows grow back soon. I feel silly.

Oct 10, 2004

Children of the Sun

The aliens let me on board their starship today. We traveled for many thousands of light-years, to their distant and foreboding planet; it took only the merest fraction of an hour. We toured the wonders and sights of their beloved home planet for many months, and I saw things to bring me wonderment and awe. Crystal towers, glassine bridges, achingly beautiful people. I recorded it by taking many hundreds of photos with my trusty Riccoh camera, including pictures of their star maps and plans for their magnificient FTL drive (the size and shape of an egg!,) so we could copy them and return to them soon. I was so pleased that they encouraged me to do this, so that I could bring proof back to Earth with me that wonders far beyond our imagining exist in this no-longer empty universe, and that their message was one of peace, welcome, and understanding.

How was I to know that the lens cap was on the whole time?

Oct 9, 2004

Lever-fill reservoir indeed!

All I wanted to do was purchase a refill cartridge for my fountain pen. How was I to know that the saleslady's father (a missionary) had been brutally tortured for three days and then killed by an until-then unknown Congonese tribe of cannibal pygmy head-hunters whose sole contact with the civilised world was a 1925 Waterman #55 "Ripple" Fountain pen, which they worshiped as a phallic symbol. Until dear old Fritz tried to use it to write a letter home.

Oct 8, 2004

Abandon hope

Work is a desolate place, a wasteland of death and destruction. There is nothing there anymore, nothing that can be recognised as what it once was. The plague of locusts, the overhead lights dripping blood, the supplies and furniture and registers, all dessicated and destroyed, turned to rust and wormwood. How was I to know that the Yawning Gateway Of Blood that opens to the All-Consuming Eternal Abyss Of Penultimate Evil happened to be located in the men's room, and that it could be opened simply by jiggling the handle?

Oct 7, 2004

How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Wear a Monocle

I finally decided that to do things right, and I mean really RIGHT, I needed one of those hugemongous monstro world globes that stand on the floor, resting in it's own solid teak and platinum cradle, one of those globes that weighs about as much as several very fat children, or maybe a small SUV. You know the kind--every third-rate two bit dictator or evil genius has one; you have to get one so that you can stand behind it, looming menacingly, lit from below so you look diabolical, and you're wearing your brand new hand-tailored black suit and black satin cape, shaking your black leather-clad fists over it (or prehaps just running your hands across the top in that evil sexy way) and cackling in a high-pitched range as your monocle falls out of your eye and the music comes to a fevered pitch...

You know the kind.

Well, this website I found doesn't exactly PROMOTE it, and I can't give you the secret code I got out of Dictator's Home Journal magazine, but if you look carefully you can find where, as well as the Presidential and the Diplomat models they also offer a "Generalissimo" and a "World Conqueror" model, both of which can be programmed to play a cd of screams and moans intended to duplicate those of your crushed underfoot native peoples, as well as letting you light up (in red, natch) the countries your power extends over. The 'WC' model includes a nice "Tide Of Evil" black arrow option in which thick black arrows spread menacingly across the continent of your choice from your base of operations, showing your octopus-like intentions toward other countries.


Oct 6, 2004

Heart of Darkness

I found a bicycle yesterday, sitting by the side of the road. I, being a curious sort, stopped and walked over to it to see why it was there and what it was doing, bright and shiny, seeming brand new. It spoke to me in soothing tones until I took it's handlebars in my hands with a lover's touch. How was I to know that it was a rogue bull Cannondale, sitting there patiently, waiting for someone just as foolish as myself to walk near. How was I to know that it had been programmed by thousands, nay, millions of years of evolution to become the ultimate urban hunter-killer?

Oct 5, 2004

If you were curious

this is what I wrote this morning--

I like fish.

I like fish in a lot of ways. I like to sit in a boat and try to trick them into biting a patently fake lure. I like this because it's a challenge to capture something that you can't see. I also like the long hours spent outside in peaceful surroundings.

I like to eat the stupider ones, the ones who fell for the patently fake lures I carefully presented to them. Their only fault is that they were born stupid and delicious.

I even like to keep them in big glass boxes around my house. Not the eating kind, they get too big. And not the stupid kind (at least I don't think they're too stupid,) because I don't sit on my desk with a rod and reel trying to trick them into eating little tiny plastic bloodworms or brine shrimp. I refer here to the tropical ones, the more decorative types, like Neon tetras.

Neon tetras are, by grace of their genetic calling, middle-feeders, which is to say that in capital "N" Nature, where they live many feet deep in Amazon river basins they don't come to the top for food, because that's where small, bright-red and electric-blue fish BECOME food. My Neons, however, and my Emperor and Lemon tetras (all middle-water fish) have Learned Better than their genetic preprogramming. They have learned that when The Great Black Rectangle of The Sky opens, food will be immediately forthcoming, and furthermore any little fish brave enough to shrug off centuries of cellular memory and genetic predisposition to swim to the top when food rains down from On High will get the Lion's Share, and as such will soon become big, fat and sassy, and get all the girls.

In the space of a month I have single-handedly derailed thousands ofyears of natural selection and evolution. Rockin'!

See what you would have were going to miss perhaps?


so yesterday I wrote this big-arse long post about fish. It didn't post properly. This morning I painstakingly re-wrote the post, longer than before, and uploaded it. Looked at the site, and what do I find? My previous fish post, as well as my new fish post.

No post for you today.



Oct 4, 2004

Darwinian Train Wreck

Okay, so there I was minding my own business, sitting on my motorcycle, watching the swallows play in the morning light while waiting for the stop sign to change. How was I to know it was a slow one?

I keep fish. Fish are safe, fish don't shed, fish don't bark in the middle of the night, fish don't stay up all night yowling for a mate, and if fish die you don't have a half-ton of meat on the hoof to get rid of. Unless you're keeping koi, and I'm not.

I'm keeping Neon Tetras, as well as some Emperor and Lemon Tetras.

Now, in capital "N" Nature, neons and emperors and lemon tetras are all middle feeders. Their mouths are situitated right smack in the middle of their little faces, which gears them to approach food head-on. In the Amazon River tributaries where they live they tend to stay several feet deep or deeper, because for very small fish it's simply SAFER down there. Neons in Nature who decide to come to the surface to feed find that inch-long electric blue and red fish make marvelous (and colourful) snacks for larger fish, small birds, and other opportunity-seeking wildlife. Other fish, like mollies and swordtails, have mouths that mount at the tops of their faces, so they can easily swim just below the surface and eat things without having to turn their entire bodies pointing upwards. Neons do not. Middle-water fish. See?

Well, I have done it. In the space of one month my tetras have decided that when the Great Black Rectangle of The Sky opens, food will be immediately raining down on their little heads, and that if a neon is smart, he or she can race up there and get a gut-full before the rest do, and those neons become fat, sassy, and get all the chicks.

In less than 30 days I have derailed thousands of years of careful natural selection and evolution.


Today's colour: Orange. Yeah, you expected me to say "neon blue" or "neon red," didntja?
Today's scent: wet dog. My mom's dog came up this morning smelling like ick
Today's word: Ick
Today's music: Something by Ennio Morricone
Today's tele: No time for the square-headed girlfriend

Oct 3, 2004

Apolgies in advance--

"I feel like a big black bird," Irrelephant crowed.

"I want to renew my membership," Irrelephant rejoined.

"My grape juice has fermented," Irrelephant whined.

"Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes," Irrelephant said sheepishly.


More "So there I was."

So there I was, standing over a Baobob tree, Jesus H. Christ on my left side, and Lord Krishna on my right, and suddenly the Professor from Gilligan's Island appears in front of me in a giant pillar of fire and coconut shells, and spake unto me: "Oi! Where's the f--in' bar, John?"

It's all so clear to me now. I know now what I Must Do. It's a shame it involves Maury Chaykin.

Today's colour: yeller
Today's scent: warm Pop Tarts
Today's word: cudgel--the thing I most want to bring to work with me
Today's music: Mark Knopfler's new stuff
Today's tele: Sherlock Holmes mysteries, only I'll still be at freaking WORK.

Oct 2, 2004

I love it when a plan comes together!

It finally worked.

Seven years of struggling with plants and the yard, mulch and the sprinkler system, another three years of planning and laying the whole thing out, not to mention the troubles with transient labourers, and then another two years to get it all trimmed and high enough to afford a view in but not out. All that work finally paid off. I looked out the bedroom window this morning, and silhouetted in the morning mist I saw the tip of a golden crozier and a tall pointy hat wandering around lost in my Hedge Maze: I caught the Pope! Now all I have to do is keep the Pope trapped long enough to catch the Dali Lama I will have the Ultimate Cage Match.

Today's colour: golden Hessian silk
Today's scent: confused priest mingled with boxwood and compost
Today's word: labyrenthine
Today's tele: Trapped!

Oct 1, 2004


"It was a dark and stormy night. The Captain of the ship looked to his first mate, and said 'Mate, tell me a story.' And this is the story he told. "It was a dark and stormy night. The Captain of the ship looked to his first mate and said 'Mate, tell me a story.' And this is the story he told. "It was a dark and stormy night. The Captain of the ship looked to his first mate, and said 'Mate, tell me a story.' And this is the story he told. "It was a dark and stormy night. The Captain of the ship looked to his first mate and said 'Mate, tell me a story....'"

Today's colour: orange
Today's scent: oranges
Today's word: orange
Today's music: Bannarama (orange you glad I didn't say "orange" again?)
Today's tele: The Young Ones

Yesterday was National MudPack Day. Beats me what today is. *lol*

I know a guy who is on the Chet Atkins Diet--you can eat anything you want, but you can only pick at it.