Author: The Jody

Hey, Lynn Hoffman, late of Mix 98.5 must have been googling herself earlier this evening, because she found my site and left a comment that yes, that is her on VH1 Classic. Am I good or what? Of course you’ll see by my reply that I was feeling a little guilty about my earlier post, and I felt the need to explain. See, I loved listening to them, and then suddenly, it seemed like they were making Lynn into the person who had to act dumb so Lander would seem smarter and/or have a reason to explain things. This is a made up example, but if Lander wanted to talk about the Brady Bunch they’d make her say something like “you mean there was a program about two blended families that had to get along with only one bathroom for 6 kids?” See? Like you KNOW she knows that, but she had to pretend she didn’t so Lander could say his schtick.

Anyway, this is why I told the reporter from the Fitchburg Sentinel that I don’t badmouth people on my site. People actually READ this damned thing.

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.