Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: such as it is
Frog Talk
Tiggr at A Spanking Good Time (a blog I lurk at for the writing, of course) has given me a fine idea: why not have a Q & A here at Balls & Walnuts? This place just ain’t interactive enough. So, stealing a cue from Tiggr’s Tiggr Talk, I’m going to inaugurate a new feature, Frog Talk.
This will either be the start of something good, or the start of something brief. It’s up to you. In the comments, ask me anything you like, and I’ll try to answer as honestly as possible.
Oh, and if possible, I’ll be live blogging tonight . . . say, 7:30 PM Pacific?
See ya.
D.
Exhausted
and I’m not sure why. But when my nosebleed patient sprayed me with bloody saliva, I was just about done. Felt like canceling the rest of my day and heading home.
I feel like I could sleep for ten hours. Shame is, I have something important to write about (modern day snake oil salesmen preying upon cancer patients). But if I write it now, I’ll make a muck of it.
So I’ll close with a question. The supermarket tabloids apparently think I should care about this twig of a woman:
My question: Why?
D.
To build a fire
Can’t live blog without power. Sorry.
Can’t stay warm without power, either, except — we have a fireplace! Which we never use! But can I build a fire?
It’s a manly skill, no? (Guess what I’ve been reading by candlelight for the last three hours.) Some wee twigs and flint, a split log or two, and off I go.
Oh, the butane lighter, presto logs, and cardboard helped, too. Thank heavens for presto logs. Anyway, it’s storming like hell out there, and I don’t trust our local utility folks to keep the power going, so I’m posting this puppy before everything crashes.
Sorry about standing you up at the virtual altar. Soon, I promise.
D.
Nailbiters
Here in the States, we’re having, arguably, the most important midterm election of my lifetime. Given what this may mean at home for the next two years, and given how thoroughly the US can screw up the rest of the world, I don’t think it’s an overstatement to say this election has profound international significance.
Closer to home, my friend has her operation scheduled for tomorrow. I wish I could be one of those prayer people, or one of those “beam positive thoughts” people, but I can’t. (Or at least, I won’t admit it.) I know how much depends on my friend and her surgeon.
More than ever, I wish I could be Samantha Stevens.
D.
Travelogue I
Before I get started, I want to give a little lurve . . .
First to longtime lurker Never That Easy, who awarded me her Perfect Post Award for October, 2006. Here it is:
. . . which I won for my Smart Bitches Day post, Boys Need Romance. Thanks, NTE! If this keeps up, I’ll have to start stacking awards on my sidebar.
Next, some furry love to Erin O’Brien, who aims to one-up my cameltoe extravaganzi with one of her own. Kinda. Sorta. Thanks, gorgeous.
One question: if the plural of clitoris is clitorides, and if a group of sharks is called a shiver, a group of roebucks a bevy, and a group of parrots a pandemonium, what should we call a group of penises? I vote for slither, which happens to be one name for a group of snakes. But I’m open to suggestion.
By the way, when I do my shopping today, I’ll be sure to buy an ejaculation of Krugys for all you Krugy-flaunting women willing to send someone like ME your home addresses. Suckers.
On to the travelogue.
Corn Dog is a sweetie
We got together recently in San Francisco with her strapping husband and had a YUM meal at The Slanted Door.
Apologies to my other Bay Area readers . . . next time, I promise. My time was sorely limited.
More on my SF adventures tomorrow, featuring
The Mitchell Brothers theater! (Eh, don’t get your hopes up. I walked past.)
Fine Italian cuisine!
Feats of strength and daring!
Sweaty shirts!
And more . . . tomorrow. I’m exhausted.
D.
A crucible indeed
We can be reasonably confident that this high schooler didn’t download her essay from the Internet.
I have reprinted it verbatim.
“the crucible”
umm the character ima use in this Essay is John Proctor because ahh he was like the main dude in the story yeah. John proctor has three children & ahh I think proctor has made the right choice.
That’s it. That’s the whole essay. I wonder what grade my sister gave?
Oh, well. I’ve often thought “The Crucible” sucked; undoubtedly, that’s why this student has authored such an anemic essay. “Macbeth” might have inspired her to loftier heights.
Don’t forget the Valley contest (see below)!
D.
Remember, live blogging tonight
I’m shooting for 7 PM PST, but that depends on a lot of stuff (like when I manage to feed my family). See ya there.
UPDATE: make that 8. Sorry!
UPDATE: Y’all have lives tonight, I see 😉 Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.
D.
Who would have thought . . .
this
could lead to this
Ignoring that brief Crooks and Liars spike, I had been averaging 300 to 400 hits a day for a long time; and then, the search engines discovered my (wondrous and beautiful) cameltoe post. Now I’m topping 600 hits a day, mostly because of the public’s insatiable desire for more cameltoe.
And what’s not to like about cameltoe?
You know, sometimes I get discouraged by life; I guess all of us do. But when I do, I meditate on the MooreToeâ„¢, and I think, Boy, you’re gonna make it after all.
D.
Looks like jelly, but it’s snot!
Snot, glorious snot.
But before I give you snot, go over to Michelle’s blog and sign up for her giveaway of Ellen Klages’ debut novel, The Green Glass Sea.
Ah, yes. What were we talking about? Snot.
Hang on. Snot’s good enough to wait for.
A while ago, Karen pointed to the bed and cried out, “Take me! Now!” Actually, she cried out, “There’s a degu and it just raced under the bed!”
Jake saw nothing. I saw nothing. I went downstairs to check the degu cage and Jake called after me, “We have four.”
Yeah, thanks. So I counted four degus.
“We must have five degus,” I told Karen. “Or else you saw a rat.”
Now our cat is prowling around the bedroom, searching for the rodent Karen hallucinated not one hour ago.
Snot below the fold.