Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Monthly Archives: October 2007
The Distaff Meme, second attempt
Thanks, Darla. I’m wiped out, so this is about the best I could manage anyway.
The basic facts:
Who is your significant other? Karen
How long have you been together? Since early 1983. Married, June 1984
Dating/Engaged/Married? Married. Didn’t I just say that?
How old is your S.O.? 45
Which one?
Who eats more? I do.
Who says “I love you” first? I do, usually. But not always.
Who weighs more? I have her beat 2:1.
Who sings better? I do. And that speaks volumes for the truly horrific nature of Karen’s singing voice.
Who’s older? Me, by seven months.
Who’s smarter? Karen. Nothing like going through college together to establish THAT fact.
Whose temper is worse? I get p.o.’d at my son easier than she does. She gets p.o.’d at me easier than I get p.o.’d at her.
Who does the laundry? Me.
Who does the dishes? Me.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Karen. Why do you ask?
Whose feet are bigger? Mine, duh!
Whose hair is longer? Karen’s.
Who’s better with the computer? For most things, Karen.
Who mows the lawn? Our gardener.
Who pays the bills? Karen, always.
Who cooks dinner? I do.
Who drives when you are together? That’s about 50:50.
Who pays when you go out to dinner? I do.
Who’s the most stubborn? Karen, of course!
Who is the first one to admit when they’re he’s wrong? Yo.
Whose parents do you see more? I think we see Karen’s mom a bit more than we see my parents.
Who named your ferret? I named Zappa. Karen named Harmonica.
Who kisses who first? That would be me.
Who asked who out? I passed her a note in p-chem lab. Don’t you read my blog?
Who’s more sensitive? I am.
Who’s taller? Me again. Better be, if I outweigh her 2:1.
Who has more friends? Oh, probably me, thanks to the blog.
Who has more siblings? We each have one brother and one sister.
Who wears the pants in the relationship? Karen.
To see who I tag . . . read the next post. Hopefully, I’ll have something more substantial for you tomorrow. G’night!
D.
Cuteness overload, NC-17
My sis sent me a bunch of awwwww-how-CUUUUUUTE photos today — yeah, another viral email, and doubtless many of you have seen this one, too.
But I doubt your mind occupies the same gutter as mine, so perhaps these captions hadn’t occurred to you.
But all the other girls at Zeta Beta Theta practice with carrots!
Carl, you don’t have to wipe up after fog.
- The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
The trouble with little cat feet? They leave little cat paw prints.
Two or three prints right there (I drew a box around one), several dozen on the rest of the counter. Karen says that on Arachnoboards, a list devoted to tarantula enthusiasts, someone once said, “The trouble is, they don’t just walk on your counters. They sit on them, too. Try putting red lipstick on your cat’s anus; later, you can count how many red smooches dot your counters.”
I don’t need red lipstick to prove it. My powers of observation suffice! And I shall not admit defeat to a cat. I have enlisted the aid of a motion-sensing ally.
The candles flash, the red eyes flash, and the speaker booms, “TRICK OR TREAT, BWAAHAHAHAHAAAA!” If it works, no paw prints, no butthole prints.
I haven’t checked yet to see if it’s working.
Live blogging tonight . . . oh, let’s make it 8, but I may be here sooner.
D.
Before and after
Have I pissed and moaned about our remodel? I must have at one time or another, so I’ll keep it brief here. We had a big remodel done a few years ago. We ran out of money (oh, something about our contractor going about 100% over-budget). As a result, for the last few years we’ve had plywood floors, plywood counter tops, mix-and-match exterior siding, and a variety of other weird problems — like the LEAKS. Leaks and leaks and more leaks, the main reason we remodeled when we did, rather than wait until we had enough money to do it all at once. And did the first contractor fix the leaks? Noooo.
In the last several weeks, we’ve taken a few giant steps forward. Our new contractor has replaced all of our leaky doors and caulked here and there, and the leaks are far better than they were. We won’t know until the next big storm whether all of the leaks are better, but based on the last storm, more than half of them are gone.
But the big deal, from my point of view: NEW COUNTER TOPS! WOOT! No more plywood. We’ve gone granite.
Pix below the cut.
Birthday pie
One of these days, I’ll learn not to shoot pictures in a dark room with a bright window in the background.
We had birthday pie for dinner. Pumpkin, to be exact. We had pie because our kitchen is still a bit torn up, thanks to getting NEW COUNTER TOPS! Photo blog soon to follow. Yup, we said goodbye to our icky temporary plywood counters, and we’ve gone granite. Woot!
And here you see Karen’s new big-assed TV. Considering that this is only the third TV we’ve bought since 1984 (fourth, if you count the one we got for Jake), I guess I don’t feel too bad about splurging on the big-assed model.
Wow. I’m going to have to add a new category for this post.
D.
The Filial Thirteen
My son is twelve. TWELVE! ALMOST A TEENAGER! And so I got this brilliant idea to do a Thirteen all for him. Trouble is, I did it last year, too. So much for originality. Can I come up with thirteen more memories about my son?
You betcha.
For the geek who has everything
From ThinkGeek, the WiFi detecto shirt:
Here at ThinkGeek we’re pretty lazy when it comes to technology. We expect our gadgets to do all the busywork while we focus on the high level important tasks like reading blogs. That’s why we hate to have to crack open our laptops just to see if there is any wi-fi internet access about… and keychain wi-fi detectors, we would have to actually remove them from our pockets to look at them. But now thanks to the ingenious ThinkGeek robot monkeys you can display the current wi-fi signal strength to yourself and everyone around you with this stylish Wi-Fi Detector Shirt. The glowing bars on the front of the shirt dynamically change as the surrounding wi-fi signal strength fluctuates. Finally you can get the attention you deserve as others bow to you as their reverential wi-fi god, while geeky chicks swoon at your presence. You can thank us later.
Hey, I got a geeky chick to marry me, and I didn’t need no dumb shirt. But thanks for thinking about me just the same.
D.