Fire everywhere, again

Well, it's that time of year again.

I was really hoping we'd dodge the bullet this year, but California is on fire, again. This time, the fire's are a little to close to home.

We had an apartment complex burn down yesterday morning, and now a big grass fire burning down a section of one of our highways.

And the air quality today is just

un-fabulous.

And most of the Southern State is on fire, too.

Fire sucks. I said it last year. I repeat it this year.

I know, it's nature's way of clearing things out, things go back greener, ect. ect.

Seen it first hand at my parents house.

But, tell that to the people who lost their homes, and important stuff over the weekend.

Fire sucks...

(so how are you all this Monday? :)

Friday Mieography

Sarah Lockwood Pardee was born in New Haven, Connecticut, in September of 1839. In the early 1860's she met William Wirt Winchester, the son of the famous gun manufacturer, Oliver Winchester. Sarah married William in 1862, in a very elaborate wedding. They went on to have a daughter, Annie, who, sadly, died when she was only six months old. Traumatized over the death of her daughter, Sarah began her descent into madness, and began to shun the high society she had once been a shining member of. They had no other children. Just when Sarah was starting to function again, life dealt her another harsh blow. Her husband died, of tuberculosis. Sarah became convinced the Winchester family was cursed.

She inherited twenty million dollars when William died, and almost half ownership in the Winchester Repeating Arms Company, which gained her an additional one thousand dollars a day, just in royalties. This was little comfort to her, having lost her family.

A friend, trying to help, suggested she seek the advice of a medium. Sarah did so, and the medium actually verified to Sarah that the family was cursed by the spirits of all those who had been killed by Winchester Rifles. And those spirits had taken her daughter, and husband as their revenge. Furthermore, the only thing she could do was to purchase a house, add on to it continuously, to house the spirits. If construction ended, Sarah would die.

So, in 1884, Sarah bought a house, in San Jose, California, and started using her fortune, to add on to the house. She continued this every day of every week, of every year, for an astounding 38 years. It ended the day she died, at the age of eighty five. She died in her sleep, and is buried next to her husband and daughter.

Sarah designed all the construction, and did her best to confuse the spirits of the house, including having stair cases that end precisely no where. During the great earthquake that hit San Francisco in 1906, much of Sarah's work was undone. She got trapped into her room. The house went from seven stories to four. Sarah took this as a message from the spirits that she was spending too much time and money on the front of the house. So, she had thirty rooms boarded up, and never used them again. She also became obsessed with the number thirteen.

The house contained

160 rooms. 40 bedrooms, 13 balthrooms, 6 kitchens..

47 fireplaces, of which many have flues that go nowhere. She thought the spirits could enter and leave through the flues.

40 staircases, and more than 450 doorways. One of the stair cases ends at the ceiling, and each staircase has thirteen steps, except one. Each step is only two inches high.

10,000 windows, which have 12 panes. One room has a window in the floor. The rooms also have rooms within rooms, and a door that opens up to an eight foot drop to the garden outside.

The kitchen sink has thirteen drain holes, and there is a gas chandelier, which was modified to have thirteen lights. It is said Sarah slept in a different room each night.

The house also boasts many accounts of paranormal activity.

Sarah's will was written in thirteen sections, and she signed it thirteen times. She left the house to a niece, who took what she wanted and auctioned off the rest. It took movers eight truckloads a day for six and a half weeks to empty out the house.

Today, the house stands as a museum to the eccentricity of Sarah, and can be toured.

Go HERE to see even more...

if you dare

So what's the protocol??

We have neighbors.

I know, shocking, right?

We do. Some like us, some don't.

One of the doctors that I happen to actually like lives on one side of us.

A cranky man and his equally cranky girlfriend, and his older than old parents live on the other side of us. They are dog haters. Especially our dogs. And our dogs? Have turned into really good girls, so those neighbors can bite me.

Across the street, we have the neighbors I like to call Gladys and Abner.

Now, they are nice enough. Its just that they know everything in the neighborhood. They know everyone. And, if Abner doesn't like you, then, supposedly, no one in the neighborhood will, either. They are THAT neighbor.

They like us.

But we do not go visit with cakes and tea, or anything like that.

Here's my question

Last night, about 11:30, there was an ambulance at their house. Gladys and Abner are elderly. Being a nurse, I know, the countless things that could have gone wrong. A fall. A stroke. Death. Just to name a few. As I mentioned, we are not really "close" neighbors. But I don't want to seem uncaring. I also, don't want to intrude....

Do I walk over there? Or do I leave it alone.....

** Edit**

I walked down there, and they are not home, yet. Meaning it must have been something bad... poor neighbors. MM and I will walk down again, together, when he gets home from work....

Wordless Wednesday

I am a music lover, we all know that, right?

I believe I have done multiple posts on music.

As I was driving to work the other day a song came across my iPod that I keep coming back to. Its only been out a few years, and, it is a country song, but the lyrics resonate with me. Always have. Always will, I hope.

Here it is. It's called "Stand Back Up", by Sugarland.

Go ahead and take your best shot,
Let 'er rip, give it all you've got,
I'm laid out on the floor, but I've been here before,
I may stumble, yeah I might fall,
Only human aren't we all?
I might lose my way, but hear me when i say,

I will stand back up,
Youll know just the moment when ive have enough,
Sometimes im afraid, and i dont feel that tough,
But I'll stand back up,

I've been beaten up and bruised,
I've been kicked right off my shoes,
Been down on my knees more times than youd believe,
When the darkness tries to get me,
Theres a light that just wont let me,
It might take my pride, and my tears may fill my eyes,
But I'll stand back up,

I've weathered all these stroms,
But i just turn them into wind, so i can fly,
What dont kill you makes you stronger,
When I take my last breath,
Thats when I'll just give up,

So, go ahead to take your best shot,
Let 'er rip, give it all you've got,
You might win this round but you cant keep me down,

'Cause I'll stand back up,
And you'll know just the moment when ive had enough,
Sometimes im afraid and I dont feel that tough,
But I'll stand back up,

Youll know just the moment when ive had enough,
Sometimes I'm afraid and I dont feel that tough,
But I'll stand back up.

Meow already!

Gah!

Black cats have so much attitude!

I have two of them, I should know. Though I contend that I was just fostering Audrey until MM came along. He is her "true" person. She loves him like no other.

Jack, though, totally my cat. He knows I am blogging about him, too, because he just stuck his claws into my thigh and kneaded. Little bastard.

As I get up each morning, I am greeted at my bedroom door by Jack, who starts just meowing at me, incessantly. My cats get fed at night, because there is no chance of the dogs getting their food during that time, so he isn't yowling to be fed. He is yowling, because, apparently, me being away from him during my hours of sleep is much to stressful to his nature. So I sit down on the couch, grab my laptop, usually, to blog, and he parks himself right next to my right arm, on the arm rest. He has to be near me. And every now and then I reach out and scratch him. If I wait too long, I get the claw....

Eventually, he goes on his merry way to annoy the other cats in the household, or to stare down the fish.

I'm so glad I found him and brought him back inside after those four nights he spent out, alone....

Friday Mieography

Stephanie Louise Kwolek was born in a suburb of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in July of 1923. Her father, unfortunately, passed away when she was ten. From him, though, she got a keen interest in science, and wanted to become an MD when she grew up. Before he died, he would take her exploring in the woods near their home, looking for bugs, birds and flowers. She would bring "specimens" back to their home, identifying them and putting them into scrap books.

She did pursue this, graduating from Carnegie Mellon University with a degree in Chemistry. She needed money, however, to continue on to medical school, so she hoped to get a temporary job in a chemistry related field to do so.

World War II had just ended when she needed to do this, and there were not enough educated men to take some of these jobs. She ended up working at DuPont, in Buffalo, NY. She quickly found a lot of interest in her "temporary" job, and decided to stay, not pursuing her medical dream. She eventually transferred to the DuPont facility in Wilmington, Delaware.

While working for DuPont, she invented Kevlar. She and her group were actually looking for a new, light weight, but strong fiber to use for tires. Instead, they ended up with the fiber that would become Kevlar. It lead to a new field of chemistry, as well, "Polymer Chemistry". Modern Kevlar was introduced in 1971.

She retired in 1986, however, she still consults for DuPont. She also serves on the National Research Council, and the National Academy of Sciences. During her 40 year career, she filed up to 28 patients. She was the fourth woman to be added to the National Inventor's Hall of Fame. She also lectures, periodically about her life, and invention. She tells students "Every person has value, no matter what you do. This is what you have to remember".

Thursday...

Ah, Thursday. Day of Thor. (isn't it? Let me go check, google to the rescue).

Ah, yes, I was right. My brain is tired, it always seems to be tired in the heat, and I need to check those things.

So its Thursday. I work tonight, and tomorrow night, and the house is kind of messy right now, distracting me from the things I'd LIKE to be doing. So I guess I am going to have to get up and go clean it now, so that it won't make me crazy....

Happy thursday!

Wordless Wednesday

Queen Meme Tuesday

#6 The Bachelor's Dating Meme

In honor of my 500th "Bachelor of The Day" to post this week on my site called Dating Profile Of The Day we bring you The Dating Meme. For three years I've been rummaging through online dating profiles to find the zaniest and most ridiculous profile headlines out there. They write 'em. I spoof 'em. Do you know that some folks are grammatically insane?? And some are just insane.

Ergo, today's meme was born.

Are you up for the challenge? Take a look at these seven dating profile headlines from real dating sites. Imagine you are trying to find a date and these gems have just landed in your inbox. How would you respond to them? Write a comeback response to each one. Be sarcastic, be funny, be brave! Spelling errors not my own. Names and locations have been changed to protect the terminally single. If you need inspiration, go HERE for hundreds of funny examples.

1. Birdbrain looking for a mateGood luck to you, I am afraid that feathers make me sneeze. However if you are looking for a comfortable nest I do have a friend named Dove whom I would love to pass your profile on to...

2. Where Are All The Bad Girls?If you have to ask this question, you're probably not worth my time. Stop hanging around the biker bars, or one of those boys will kick your teeth in for eyeballing their woman...

3. A Good Woman Is Hard To FineIf you fined the bad ones you'd make more money. Now go away and find your spell check.

4. Does God Know You've Escaped From Heaven?Does Satan know you're trying to recruit?

5. I Put the Fun in DysFUNctionalAnd I put the NO in No F*ing way

6. Does this profile make me look fat?No it makes you look dumb, though, will that do?

7. I'm a no nonsince person with little tolorrance for stupitityThen you must really be hating yourself about now.

Good luck! And thank you for playing The Queen's Tuesday Meme.

Monday Morning Mush

This last weekend was the last one before school starts, this coming Wednesday! Mustang Girl is gearing up for her sophomore year in high school. MM decided to take Friday off, as we needed to take her to the school to get her locker, and her schedule. We were anticipating the need for parental presence, because, well, we didn't have a lot of faith in MG getting a good elective choice. Boy, were we right about that one.

They tried to stick her in CLAY.

Yes.

Clay.

Now. I have nothing against clay as a medium, or sculpting, or anything. But MG is not artistic, in "that" way. Clay, it just isn't a good elective choice for her. As a matter of fact, MM had even called the school, to ask that Clay NOT be on her list. But she got Clay.

Lucky for us, we were able to easily fix it, and she is now enrolled in Web Design. Better, no?

Saturday saw us visiting the local fair, eating hand dipped corn dogs, and then going to see the movie "Hurt Locker". About the bomb squads in Iraq. It was an interesting movie. Probably not for everyone, but I am not sorry we went to see it.

Sunday, we hung out at a nearby-ish lake with friends, and bbq'd and had some relaxing fun.

It was a nice way to un-officially end the summer.

Now, onto the school year! I bet it goes by, fast....

Friday Mieography

Short and sweet this week

Mary Breckinridge was born to a prestigious family, the daughter and grand daughter of congressmen of the state of Tennessee. She was educated privately, by private tutors. The family lived in Washington, DC, until her father was appointed to be the U.S. minister to Russia. They moved to St. Petersburg, after that.

Her mother disapproved of women going to college, and ensured her daughter follow a "traditional" pathway. She married a lawyer from Hot Springs, Arkansas. Unfortunately, he died 2 years into their marriage, of appendicitis.

Taking matters into her own hands, she enrolled in a Nursing class in NYC, at St. Luke's Hospital. She was there for three years, got her degree, and moved to the south, where she married a native of Kentucky. They lived in Arkansas, and had two children. Mary taught French, and Hygeine, at Crescent College and Conservatory for Young Women, where her husband was the school president. Sadly, her daughter, Polly, died when she was only six hours old, and then, tragically, her son died at the age of four, from appendicitis. (appedixes did not like Mary, apparently)

Her husband cheated on her, and their marriage ended in divorce. Mary had her maiden name restored, swore to never marry again, and returned to her nursing. She joined the American Committee for Devastated France after the war, and while in Europe spent much time with both French, and British mid wives. She realized that the healthcare they provided could meet the needs of many women living in rural America. She considered this to be her life's calling.

There were no midwifery courses in the United States, so Mary went to England to receive her training, there. She was certified by the Central Midwives Board, and returned to the United States, where she founded the Kentucky Committee for Mothers and Babies. This soon became the Frontier Nursing Service.

She ran it out of a large, log house (called The Big House) in Wendover, Kentucky. She also conducted Sunday afternoon Episcopalian services there. For years she ran the house completely on her own personal funds. The program was designed around one, centrally located hospital, with one physician, and many nursing outposts. The nurses went to place to place on Horseback, enabling them to reach the most rural, remote areas. Within five years, FNS had reached more than one thousand families, exceeding over 700 miles, and the staff members formed the organization that would become, in the future the American Association of Nurse-Midwives. By this time Mary had figured out how to raise funds, and get publicity, and she kept the place running. She also founded the Frontier School of Midwifery and Family Nursing, and trained hundreds of midwives. She ran the Frontier Nursing Services out of the Big House until her death, in 1965, despite having fallen from a horse, and being left crippled.

The FNS hospital is still in Hyden, Kentucky, and is now named the Mary Breckinridge Hospital, and it has a state of the art Women's Health Center, fulfilling Mary's life calling.

I had this thought

and I've been kind of thinking about it, on and off, for the last few days. It hasn't wanted to leave me alone.

It's really more of a question.

If I could... if it were remotely possible....

would I go back and alter historical events? Prevent them from happening?

and if I did, how would that change what we are, today?

This is probably echoing in my head because in the book(s) I am (re) reading at this time, the main characters are (were) trying to prevent the return of Bonnie Prince Charlie to Scotland. This got me thinking, how would Scotland be different if there was no Culloden Field? It would be like someone preventing the Civil War here in the U.S. (kind of).

MM kind of helped this thought process along by telling me a story about Annie Oakley shooting a cigarette out of the Kaiser of Germany's hand. BEFORE WW I. She was quoted later to say if she knew what all was going to transpire, she might have "missed".

In the end, I don't know that I would actually alter anything though, and thats tough for me to admit. There are lots of things that I wished would not have happened. A lot of waste of human life, dis-regard for future generations. I do have a form of 'regret' for all of that.

But, we have to learn from those things. Without them, where, or what would we be?

Wordless Wednesday

This one may be too far out for me....

The Woodstock Meme (to see more, clicky)

1. "Hello, my groovy name is __Liberty Blossom (once again, credit goes to the all knowing Facebook)___.

By the looks of those flowers in your hair, you must be__dead___ .

Didn't they tell you? No corpses_____ allowed!

2. Come on, Baby, light my ___Metamucil__ .

When I lay me down to __spin___ I pray the__neighbor___ my __pipe___ to keep.

If I _puke____ before I wake, I pray the __pigs___ my _pork____ to take.

**puff puff**

3. Because the first time ever I saw your _tye dye____ I realized that what the world needs now is ___peace__ sweet ____peace_. Besides, I always feel guilty watching you ___make daisy chains__ when I should be __pushing daisies___.

But I dig it!

4. Have I told you lately that I __smell___ you? Hey! Don't step on that __tab of brown acid___ !!

Dude. That guy is really weird but.....

5. There's a party in my sleeping bag and half a million of my _worst____ friends are coming over tonight and we're gonna _burn____ my baby off my mind. Darn the luck. It's raining __fish___ (s) and ____roosters_ (s)

Luckily, Papa was a rolling _an accordion player____ and I'm on a first name basis with the cops.

**puff puff**

6. I'm really digging your ___wig__ but that _thong____ has got to go. Those flowers in your hair are beginning to smell like ___pantene__.

Have I told you lately that I __smell___ you?

** puff puff**

7. I'm beginning to see __purple diamonds___ in those trees over there. Do you see it?

Out of all the millions of hippies here, you are the most ___stubbly__.

But I dig it, man.

**puff puff**

8. I'd use all my blood, sweat and __patchouli___ just to get next to your ___dealer__.

Love is free but I'd really like to buy that guy's ____beads_.

It says "Make ____wind_ not ___fire__. " Far out!

9. I'm grateful to be __crosseyed___ 'cause there's a bad __swamp___rising in Jefferson's Airplane. But that's okay, 'cause Joe Cocker said I could get by with a little __Jim Beam___ from my friends.

10. Oh, by the way, your __caftan___ is on fire. But I dig it.

Kitchen excitement

Most of you know I love to cook.

We have had some good stuff coming out of our kitchen, but, this week, we have some awesome ingredients to work with.

It all started off with our discovery that there was/is an honest to goodness real fish store in my neighborhood. One that even smells like the fresh fish they sell.

We had a good time at the fish store. We got some Salmon, we got some Huuuuge shrimp, we got some Chilean Sea Bass, and some Halibut.

Then, yesterday, hanging around the grocery store, getting some essentials, we discovered that they had some buffalo tri tips.

We've been eating Bison for awhile, now. In its ground form, instead of hamburger. I make some super good stuffed with cheese bison burgers. But I am very excited to grill this tri tip. With a nice rub.

OH

and I made lemon bars last night.

Gonna go have one for breakfast :)

Short Story Saturday

I woke up, secure, in his arms.

We were on a beach, camped out, alone, so that we could save a prime spot on what was supposed to be one of the hottest days of the year, for ourselves, and our friends.

Briefly, I considered waking him up, nicely, but rejected that idea, noticing a few other people nearby whom had evidently decided to try to camp out, and save prime beach spots, as well. Closing my eyes, I savored the moment of quiet.

People started trickling in, early, the day was very warm already. The skies were blue, with white, fluffy clouds scuttling by. The ocean water was calm. Before long, our friends had arrived, and started to have fun in the surf.

Along with the friends came his teenaged daughter. She was a good kid, but had been suffering the usual teenaged anxiety and angst as of late. Still, she was fun to be around, and was enjoying herself very much at the beach.

The cry of a small child broke the atmosphere of hot fun. "Ow! My leg!". Upon inspection, it seemed his leg had gotten poked by a broken branch that hid nearby. Sighing, his dark haired mother gathered up a few items, to take him to the car, and home, to treat his leg. Being ever helpful, the teenager trailed behind her, gathering their belongings, to help her carry stuff to the car. Seeing a bright cloth in her hand, her father called out to her. His head was hot, and he needed a bandanna, to cover it. Sighing with teenaged frustration, the kid merely dropped the cloth onto the sand as she passed by, slowly trailing the mother with the still whimpering child.

He and I sat, in the warm sand, a few moments longer, watching the water, listening to the beach noises. A breeze fluttered in, picking up the bright cloth, and began moving it down the beach. We got up, hand in hand, content to walk behind the meandering cloth, as it made it's way down the beach.

The cloth, mindless of the danger, finally plunged into the ocean water, at the sight of a small cove. Muttering in mild irritation, he jumped in, after it. Without hesitation, I did the same. The water was cool, refreshing. As I surfaced I looked for his bobbing head, and the cloth. I saw neither. What I did see was that the once clear water was dark. Darker than it had been. Calling his name, I swam around. Not panicked, but worried. Seeing people walking the shore around me, I called out to them, but was not acknowledged. Finally, I climbed out of the water, making my way back to the beach, the friends. Still trying to talk to people, to find him. No one answered, and I was frustrated. I ducked into a small cave of stone, startling a mass amount of small insects, causing them to stream out of the cage, making the passers by swipe at them in disgust. "At least something responds to me" I thought, as I continued my journey down the beach.

Then, the worried thought. "Am I dead?" This pounded through my head, as I walked down the sunny beach, still looking for him. Out of no where, a voice in my head saying

"Wake up. You'd better wake up". Twice.

I woke up, secure in his arms.

Thankfully, in our own bed....

Friday Mieography

Phyllis Ada Driver was born in Lima, Ohio, in 1917. Following the usual path, she attended highschool, ended up in a Music Conservatory in Chicago, then followed through with college in Ohio.

She studied the piano for years, but decided not to pursue her career in music. Instead, she eloped with Sherwood Anderson Diller, and they moved to California, where they had five children.

She worked as a journalist for the San Leandro News-Observer, and ended up being a contestant on "You Bet Your Life", hosted by Groucho Marx. She gave a very memorable performance, and then received an offer to perform in San Francisco at The Purple Onion, and she eventually ended up on the Jack Paar show.

She adopted a stage personality of her own creation, a disgruntled suburban housewife whom referred to her husband as "Fang". She frequently joked about her frequent face lifts, and smoking cigarettes while she laughed at herself. She never really became any sort of "movie star", though she performed in many of the Bob Hope movies, and as a regular on his Christmas Specials. She did do well in the theater, though, appearing in many plays, but most noted for her performance as Dolly Levi in Hello, Dolly! For awhile, you could not watch any television program without finding Phyllis as a guest on them.

Her marriage to Sherwood ended in 1965, and she quickly remarried Ward Donovan, who turned out to be gay. They eventually divorced, as well. She created two television series, but they were poorly received. She did end up performing with her piano, though, using the pseudonym Dame Illya Pillya, she performed with over 100 Symphony Orchestras. She has also published five best selling books.

She continues to perform to this day, occasionally guesting on TV shows, and singing.

Married and divorced twice, she had six children, one of them born a "blue baby" who died after only 2 weeks. One of her children has died of cancer, one of a stroke. One continues to fight schizophrenia.

Look! A Thursday Post!

We all know that I love football, right?

For the past two years I have blogged about how excited I am at the first HINT that football season is, actually, going to start.

Well.

I still love football.

I was raised on it. I've been watching, since I was in utero.

But this year, I am disappointed in the NFL, mightily.

Michael Vick should never be allowed back on the field. Yet the commissioner wants to rehabilitate his sorry ass. I hope none of the teams pick him up.

And today? There is this garbage with a rookie who hasn't played ONE GAME who wants the 49 ers to pony up MORE MONEY for him based on some dumb assed idea he has that involves negotiating off of a MOCK DRAFT that NEVER REALLY HAPPENED.

Seriously?

He is willing to sit out the whole season, to wait to enter the draft again.

I hope he does, and that no team will touch his sorry ass next year. Serious dumb-assery.

I hope he learns how to say "do you want fries with that?"

the writer of the article I read referred to him as "intellectually bankrupt".

Thats my new, favorite phrase.

So, roll on, football season.

Sadly, you are tarnished for me by the ass-hattedness of your current players.

Wordless Wednesday

This is what it looks like to sit in a lake, on a rock, with two fifty pound dogs scrambling to sit on your lap...

Queen Meme Tuesday

Welcome to WBLOG TV

The place where unbloggable news happens and sources are never a secret. You are the creator, producer, writer and news anchor of the WBLOG nightly news. It is your job to deliver the news in your own style from your own blog.

And oh, you get to make up the news! Here's your assignment:

1. The Weather Channel: Give me your personality forecast. Are you sunny, wet, windy, or cloudy? Why? Funny you should ask. The all knowing Facebook just catagorized me as a tsunami. So, I can go with that, especially a certain week of the month. (cough cough). I would say my weather pattern varies, though....

2. The News Channel: What is the breaking news story of the day in your world? At this moment? Failure to read a recipe leaves dinner plans up in the air.... (teenager was going to cook tonight, just realized her chicken needed to be marinated over night. I am awaiting her solution to this dilemma....)

3. The Economic Channel: How are things on the economic front? And more importantly, do you have ideas to save the planet from financial ruin? The planet is going to have to save itself from economic downfall; we, however, have a strong economic plan that involves higher education, enjoyment of our jobs, and not bogging ourselves down too severely with material things that we can't take with us anyhow...

4. The Entertainment Channel: Give us the latest blog celebrity gossip. Dish it!

Um, Mustang Man just came into the door, stripping! No, really he did! I know, I would have never believed it either, but there you go! Anyone got any dollar bills?

5. The Sports Channel: Make up a sport, give your team a name and choose five players from the list of names on the Mr. Linky list. What are the rules of the game?

Alright. The name of my sport is "Follow your nose".

The rules go like this. We take one of the members of the dungeon, and blindfold them. Then we gather up as many knights as we can, take their chain mail from them, and place them throughout the keep. Taking one of their socks, and placing it in the dungeon member's cleavage, we let her (or him) wander the keep until she (or he) can match the stench of the sock to the stench of the person.

The five players will be: The first five who end up in the dungeon...

6. The Comedy Channel: How will you make us laugh today? Tell us a blunny (that's blog + funny for all you non-blog speakers) What does a magician with a hairlip say?

"Pesto!"

I know, yuk....

7. The Religious Channel: Make up a blog religion. Tell us why your blog church will save our souls. My blog religion would have to be Non-Anonymational. No anonymous comments is the only commandment, and it would save our souls from frustration.

8. (but who's counting?) The Soap Opera Channel: What is the name of your soap opera?

As the Dishwasher Melts....

Alright! Another fun week with the Queen. My only request is that if I end up in the dungeon, can I not be the one wandering around the keep with the smelly sock of a knight? Eeeeeew......

For others who are most probably as twisted as I am, then please, go here....

Monday Morning Mush

Ah, Monday. How I loathe thee.

How about a nice poem for monday? Because my brain really is mush?

No, not written by me. By Robert Frost.

Because I like this one.

FIRE AND ICE

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.