I’m a big pushover when it comes to the Ninjas. I think maybe they drug me, but however this happened, I have broken The Rule and harnessed one of the Ninja twins, who became psychotic when he touched a lawn chair, and ran headlong into the daisies.
Luckily, the Woman’s shepherding skills are still sharp and a crisis was averted.
This week has taught me that I need to spend more quality time with my furry children.
But the Ninja Twins keep me young!
And from that moment on nothing was ever the same. Thankfully.
I was listening to Spoonman. I can’t listen to Spoonman anymore.
The vacuum has a voracious appetite.
I really don’t like killing bugs that are outdoors. I mean, I’m intruding on their land, why shouldn’t they suck my blood and try to poison me?
I’m not sure what the spider is complaining about, I rarely see spiders catching mosquitoes.
And my main issue is that if Memorial Day is a somber day to reflect on those lost in battle, why do radio stations use it to kick off Summer Partytime(tm)? I don’t mind the music, I’d probably send my radio off to be shot if every station played nothing but God Bless the USA and Goodnight Saigon all day, but really, smoking up the yard with the barbecue while blasting Rump Shaker doesn’t strike me as a proper way to memorialize people.
So of course I took the long weekend to work on my project of arranging rocks over the sinkhole waiting to happen in my yard. While listening to the radio.
Maybe this one didn’t need an explanation.
This really happened.
I didn’t actually go yelling out the window after them as my experience with yelling at cats and raccoons engaging in the same type of behavior has taught me that it rarely has any effect.
I have made a note to adjust my motion-detecting light to take in the area by the tree. You know, so they can see if they’ve dropped anything.
Hey kids! The number of panes of glass changed from 9 to a more realistic 6!
I have a thing where, if I go out in the sun much, I sort of get really ill. It’s entertaining at first, but then I turn into a nasty drunk and it’s just not worth it. I’m pretty sure this condition has an official name, but I prefer my four-letter description of it much better.
The heavy snow this past Winter was not kind to my really big shrubbery in the front of my house, it pretty much died. It is growing back now, however, but all the dead branches didn’t look so good. So I took a day to prune them.
And then I noticed my tree was dead and partly eaten by termites. This did not amuse me, and it is not good news to the birds and raccoons that like to use the tree for a meeting spot.
I cut my own hair, you know. It looks it.
I should note that if a largish purple spider wearing a top hat appeared at my side, even if it was trying to reassure me that eventually we all end up not having a lot of problems, I think I’d probably die right there.
Also, the size of the hole in the floor has been mildly exaggerated for the sake of my lousy drawing skills. I’m not sticking my legs in the real hole to prove it, either.
Life is funny.
Like, say, when you’re already running low on money, and you notice an extremely squishy spot in your floor, and upon inspection you discover the wonder that is termites hard at work.
Not only have these little bastards eaten a quarter of my floor, they’ve eaten a beam, a window frame, a door frame and possibly my wall, but we’re not looking. Oh yeah, they seem to have eaten $3000 as well.
This has been a PSA for having your house treated for termites before you find them.
This is the first intentionally drawn commentary on my life.
As you might be able to make out, I’m freaked out by people that lift the lids of step-on garbage cans with their hands, then handle food, but I’m fine with cats bathing on the table in front of me. Stealth Ninjas are very clean boys.