Month: March 2003

You old-timers will remember when every update to the Dump contained a Lord of the Dance Update. Well, let’s remember those days fondly with a current update: Yahoo! News – Woman Sues Flatley for $35M, Claims Rape.

No dead mouse yet. Exterminator just showed up at the house but I was gone. Don’t know why he did that, I want to find out how much this will cost, first. I don’t want him to drive all the way here and not have me home (which is what happened) either.

Oh, non-mouse stuff: You’ll have to wait for today’s kiddie story. Also, working on editing the NanoNovel still. I haven’t removed any characters….yet. Although part of me thinks one whole plotline (and the grandmother character) may have to go. Not sure yet.

The real kind, not the computer kind. Apparently I’m in for round 2 of MouseWars this year. Three nights in a row gnawing has woken me from a sound sleep. LOUD gnawing. I know last year the exterminator told me they were small mice, but it sounds like something bigger. But it’s been about a year since the last time we had to do this, I think. I’m pretty sure it was February of last year.

I called the exterminator again (I’d love him to figure out where they are coming in…that concerns me, actually) but he hasn’t returned my call. I suppose that’s a good thing because thinking about it, I cannot afford to pay for an exterminator. The whole freelancing thing has been a bit slow lately, to be honest. So instead of making a 2nd call to my bug/mouse guy, I spent a couple of bugs on some trap thingies. I put peanut butter in one and put it in the attic. Now my immediate problem is that I only own a step-stool so I couldn’t get up into the attic through the trapdoor. So the trap is just over the lip of that door. I know the mouse has been hanging out over my bedroom, which isn’t where the door is. Hopefully the smell of peanut butter will attract him.

I guess that means I’m going to need to check the damned thing regularly if I don’t want to have to deal with stinky dead animals later on. *sigh*.

(Hooray, it’s the Amish Tech

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(This post written by guest blogger Laurence Simon. Visit his site!)

Today, I saw that the big headline on Drudge Report was: WASHINGTON POST: Saddam: U.S. Wants Arabs As Slaves.

No thanks. I don’t want any Arab slaves, thank you very much. I enjoy doing all the household chores myself. I know it’s weird that a guy likes to clean, vacuum, do laundry and clean litterboxes, but I’ve gotten in touch with something in getting back those domestic maintenance tasks.

Not only isn’t there much need for an Arab slave here, there isn’t much room for one, either. We’ve got a cozy little place here, even with the large enclosed patio and garden. Not that I’m complaining, but the time is coming soon when cozy will turn to constrained, and then ultimately cramped.

Adding a slave or three to the occupancy won’t help with that situation.

Now, maybe if there were an Arab fitness trainer among the captives I might think about putting in a bid at the auction square, but even then I would be extremely wary trusting an Arab captive with the task of coaching my quest to achieve a more slender and healthy figure. I could work out a schedule with someone to time-share such an Arab slave, where I’d get the working hours rights to him and the others would divide up the evenings or mornings for his services.

Fat lot of good that would do, though. I would not trust an Arab slave to spot me as I did bench presses, let alone refrain from slitting my throat as I did my daily walk. It’s the same reluctance I have in letting a stranger cook for me, thinking they might take the opportunity to poison me.

Arab sex slaves perhaps? I think not. As much as Google sends the Arab Sex Foot Fetish Camel Boy Girl Hump searches to my own site, I still believe in the virtues of monogamy and my needs are simple. Third parties need not apply.

So, really, we’ll just stick with taking the oil to pay for our liberation services, we’re not interested in the whole Arab slave thing.

Junior and I were coloring with markers last night, and we were practicing drawing things from his “My Big Backyard” magazine. I wrote a story to go with one of my drawings, and I would like to share it with you, my fans.

Once upon a time there was a little purple elephant named Joshua. He lived in a little purple house with a little purple door and two purple windows. Joshua worked very hard at farmer Ray’s Peanut farm, where he was in charge of testing the ripe peanuts before farmer Ray sent them to the peanut processing plant. Every night Joshua would make himself a peanut butter and banana sandwich to eat, and he would sit in his little purple rocking chair and read stories about very brave elephants who were not afraid of anything, not even a scary little mouse. Joshua was a very happy elephant.