Where'd The Weekend Go?
Damn, that was over way too quickly!
I didn't have quite the weekend I was expecting. Rockhauler was due to come down for a visit, but apparently there was such an abundance of rock that needed to be hauled up in the D/FW area that he had to bail out. As a result, I couldn't buy him the huge chunk of grilled dead cow that I'd planned on, but rather than save the money like a thrifty little squib, I just spent it on something else. More on that later in the week.
I thoroughly enjoyed the Indy 500 on Sunday. I was joined for most of it by Little Bee Boy. (who herefore and forever more shall now be referred to on this blog by his usual nom de guerre of "Zibig". The name change was necessary due to a lamented but expected "flight of the Little Bee", rendering the old moniker obsolete. Sorry, buddy! It wasn't meant to bee, er.. be.)
Anyway, it was a fine race, and for a few minutes there it looked like Danica Patrick could run away with the whole ball of wax. Alas, fuel management and lack of polished driving skills tripped her up in the end, and she dropped from 1st to 4th. Nevertheless, it was an *outstanding* effort by a rookie driver, and as she gains experience, she's gonna tear up the IRL tracks! Kudos to you, Danica! It's nice to have a woman on the track that doesn't pancake into the wall after 30 laps!
Monday was spent holed up in solitude. Well, as much solitude as one can have when two yowly cats are forever begging for treats or a pristine litterbox. I don't suppose I can blame them. The thought of using a can that hadn't been flushed in three days would make me yowl too.
I cleaned out Bob's bowl this weekend, 'cause it was looking sorta greenish. I don't think I've mentioned Bob here before, mostly 'cause Bob doesn't really generate a lot of blogging ideas. Bob's a betta, also known as a Siamese fighting fish. His role in life is mostly blowing bubbles to make a nest, and then hiding underneath them. Every morning I toss in some food, and he makes ugly fish faces at my fingers, and won't eat until I back away from the bowl. I'm fairly certain if he had a scuba setup for fishes and opposable thumbs, he'd strangle me in my sleep. Bob's just that type of fish. Even the cats leave him alone. That's how mean he is.
So, nothing really exciting to report, as you can see. Just another weekend spent in sloth and decadence. Just the way I like it!
I didn't have quite the weekend I was expecting. Rockhauler was due to come down for a visit, but apparently there was such an abundance of rock that needed to be hauled up in the D/FW area that he had to bail out. As a result, I couldn't buy him the huge chunk of grilled dead cow that I'd planned on, but rather than save the money like a thrifty little squib, I just spent it on something else. More on that later in the week.
I thoroughly enjoyed the Indy 500 on Sunday. I was joined for most of it by Little Bee Boy. (who herefore and forever more shall now be referred to on this blog by his usual nom de guerre of "Zibig". The name change was necessary due to a lamented but expected "flight of the Little Bee", rendering the old moniker obsolete. Sorry, buddy! It wasn't meant to bee, er.. be.)
Anyway, it was a fine race, and for a few minutes there it looked like Danica Patrick could run away with the whole ball of wax. Alas, fuel management and lack of polished driving skills tripped her up in the end, and she dropped from 1st to 4th. Nevertheless, it was an *outstanding* effort by a rookie driver, and as she gains experience, she's gonna tear up the IRL tracks! Kudos to you, Danica! It's nice to have a woman on the track that doesn't pancake into the wall after 30 laps!
Monday was spent holed up in solitude. Well, as much solitude as one can have when two yowly cats are forever begging for treats or a pristine litterbox. I don't suppose I can blame them. The thought of using a can that hadn't been flushed in three days would make me yowl too.
I cleaned out Bob's bowl this weekend, 'cause it was looking sorta greenish. I don't think I've mentioned Bob here before, mostly 'cause Bob doesn't really generate a lot of blogging ideas. Bob's a betta, also known as a Siamese fighting fish. His role in life is mostly blowing bubbles to make a nest, and then hiding underneath them. Every morning I toss in some food, and he makes ugly fish faces at my fingers, and won't eat until I back away from the bowl. I'm fairly certain if he had a scuba setup for fishes and opposable thumbs, he'd strangle me in my sleep. Bob's just that type of fish. Even the cats leave him alone. That's how mean he is.
So, nothing really exciting to report, as you can see. Just another weekend spent in sloth and decadence. Just the way I like it!
posted by El Capitan | 11:01 AM
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