When Friends Converse

I was sitting with a friend of mine when his cell phone rang. “Yes, hello? Oh, hi.” To me, he says “It’s Darla.” (a mutual friend, whom I had seen while working in the house next to hers earlier in the day.)

To her: "Yes, the party is starting, come on over. What? Ok.” To me: “She says to tell you she’s impressed; that she saw you working like a Trojan today.” Pause. To her, while looking at me: “You mean like the condoms? But they don’t always work….”

And it was all yellow

What’s all yellow, you may ask, if you live in the arctic or in a walk-in cooler or some other highly frozen place. If you live in a place that has spring, you know what’s all yellow. Absolutely everything. My dog is yellow. My dark green car is all yellow, inside and out. I’m all yellow, inside and out. Even the water in the harbor, which is moving water that flows with the tides, is all yellow. A sailor on a boat coming up from the Caribbean reported hay fever attacking his vessel while it was still 100 miles offshore.

I try to move slowly and carefully, because if I'm disrespectful, marching through the yellow particles in a rush, they gang up into an angry yellow cloud, which smacks me with a sneezing fit. When I am assaulted, there's not much I can do but lie down, lie still, and try ever so hard to breathe, just a little.

But yellow is unbreatheable. With a brain full of yellow fuzz, I can’t think or reason or comprehend how to complete the most fundamental tasks. I can barely keep my itchy eyes open.

I've heard of rose colored glasses, but really, isn’t a yellow tinted world just a bit over the top?

I love spring. It’s my favorite time of year.

No, really, it is.

Those darned monkeys again

I thought I was being facetious about that lovely monkey with lollipop paws; that the idea was completely absurd. But if modern science can do this to monkeys, then it's not so silly after all , is it?

Wouldn't it be cool to glow in the dark?*

*What did you want, a real post? Forget it. All my time is taken up with the difficult task of trying to suck enough air into my lungs to get some oxygen to my poor brain, which isn’t really working. All I’m getting is pollen choking off my airways. Factor in 87 straight days of gray skies, rain, and temps in the 60 degree range, when it’s supposed to be freaking summer, and I am definitely NOT a happy monkey.

The New Place part 2

Today is a work day, and my commute has changed since moving here. Now, I have to go from here:
(Bed cops look away: this brand of bed was identified and purchased using stolen tags)

All the way up the stairs:


To my workshop:


Unless I decide to stop by the well gaurded office first, then it's not as far to travel:


It's a tough trip, but somehow I manage it every day. Usually, when I walk in, I say to my boss, 'sorry I'm late; traffic you know.'

And then my boss kicks my butt, docks my pay and makes me stay late to make up the time.

Mean old bat.

The new place

I've moved into the tin shack in the woods:


As you can see, it's well hidden, making it all the more difficult for the people with the straightjacket and padded van to sneak up on me:


As a hobby, I breed mosquitoes in the backyard:


I hide behind the screens in here, because they get agressive when they haven't had enough to eat:


This place is way bigger than a boat. In fact, my boat even has its own room:

We'll continue the tour later. Someone just informed me that it's a holiday weekend and that the tradition is to cookout. Feeling way too lazy to fire up my own grill, I'm off to find a party to crash.