Day 3. I am running out of time. No sight of the quarry yet. I did not expect this to be so hard. An inanimate object should not be this elusive. But it seems all the architects in this town did their work while smoking pot. And the realtors seem similarly stoned. Maybe it’s the heat.
I need to find something soon. For my wife’s sake. My child’s.
I’m dehydrated. I’m not sleeping any more. Yesterday I almost settled on a home with a room that can only be reached by ladder. I think the heat is getting to me.
I’m hopeful today will bring success. But I can’t help but feel I might not be the hunter here. As I drive down the street I can feel them watching me…stalking me…
Having been a dad for just over a week now I thought I’d share some of the wisdom I’ve acquired on
poo raising babies, just in case it can help another soon-to-be-dad to navigate the poo new little human in his house. The faint of heart (meaning 95% of men reading this) might want to stop here…
Continue reading “Parenting 101 – 10 Tips For New Dads (It’s mostly about poo)”
I was looking through some old posts and came across this little gem I produced almost two years ago already. I really think it’s one of the best Song Title Challenges I ever wrote, and thought I’d draw your attention to it in case you weren’t around yet when it was published.
Comments are open, so lavish your compliments on me at your leisure.
Sally Sparrow was playing in her yard, when out of the sky fell a big blue box. Out stumbled a man in a bow-tie and fez, who said, “Hey! This isn’t the Taj Mahal.” “I’m Sally Sparrow,” said Sall…
Source: Song Title Challenge #62: Let’s Do The Time Warp Again from The Rocky Horror Show
Ahoy there, landlubbers. Can ye believe it be that time o’ year again? It seems the winds o’ change be blowin’ by the years faster an’ faster an’ before we know it we’ll be plungin’ o’er the end o’ the world an’ into Davy Jones’ locker.
I were a bit conflicted ’bout this year’s International Talk Like A Pirate Day, as tonight also be the return o’ that fearless scallywag that calls he’self The Doctor. But by Neptune’s beard, I then recall’d that The Doctor he’self has sailed with buccaneers more ‘n once, an’ can resist the siren’s call, repel boarders, an vanquish the nasties o’ the deep with the best o’ them.
With his good ship TARDIS an’ his trusty
cutl sonic in hand, a fiesty wench always at his side, none can stand ‘gainst this most terrible o’ pirates. It’s not for naught they call him the oncomin’ storm. Why, I reckon e’en the most blackest heartest buccaneer o’ them all, ole Blackbeard he’self, would want to cross swor screwdrivers with The Doctor.
So today I’ll be donning my pirate hat an’ me bow tie, and with me cutlass in one hand, an’ me sonic in the other, I’ll set my heading to wherever in time an’ space the plunder be best, the adventures be most excitin’, an the wenches be prettiest.
Geronim…I mean, ARRRRR!
The scribblin’ above as always provided by me wench.
I know, I know! I’ve been neglecting this blog something awful. I do mean to get things back on track again, but you know…
As a peace offering, might I offer you a tale of a grown woman hiding behind her couch from the neighbour kids while her husband does uncannily realistic dog impressions? Sounds like something you’d read?
Then have at it. Head on over to Dead Sea Diaries and have a guffaw at Something Wicked This Way Comes and while there, be a sport and leave Liese a comment. I know for a fact she loves getting them (but, then, don’t we all?)