I had no choice but to post it. This is too outrageously cute.
As it turns out, there’s an island overrun by rabbits in Japan. This woman made the mistake of feeding some of the rabbits and they chased her down!
There’s Nothing Worse…
I am not a snob; anyone who meets me would agree.
Well, except those of an obviously lesser bloodline, of course. But, who cares about them anyway?
Having placed that firmly on the table, I know I can be, um, shall we say, “particular” about certain things and at times, might be prone to splash myself with a faint — very faint — scent of curmudgeonly, especially around speaking and writing.
As illustration, this is the second month of the year, pronounced “Feb-RU-ary,” not “Feb-U-ary.” Should you doubt, you can find out that I’m correct at the li-BRARY (not the “li-BARY”).
I manage to keep my mouth about “Febuary” because one only has to deal with it for 28 days a year.
Yet, lasting seemingly in perpetuity is misuse of “your” and “you’re.”
The former is possessive while the latter is a contraction for, “you are.” Therefore, one would not write, “Your looking thin,” nor “I love what your doing with the house.” One might however write,
“When you’re on your way over, please let your hosts know if you’re bringing your children.”
See, isn’t that nicer?
Finally can we clarify that those of us on diets are attempting to “lose” weight, not “loose” it? (Ironically, “loose weight” is usually what started us on the path to “losing weight.”)
However, the expression that causes my head to explode is the self-important exaggeration, “There’s nothing worse than…”
This rose to my awareness on a TV commercial for an on-line postage service. In touting its (not “it’s”) benefits, a gentleman exasperatingly laments, “There’s nothing worse than standing in line at the post office.”
Something Light for Breakfast
When on vacation, I dress quicker than my wife, having less hair, and therefore less of a need to blow-dry it.
With the extra time, I find myself waiting for her at the hotel restaurant.
“What will it be this morning?” asks the waitress.
Studying the menu, I am engaged in a fierce internal debate between “responsible” (fresh fruit), and “desirable” (hash browns, bacon, omelet, croissant). Adult overrules inner child and I order “something light,” oatmeal.
Momentarily a bathtub-size basin arrives. Submerged in thick, rich, cream, smothered with a brown syrupy liquid of melted maple sugar, is my hot cereal. Realizing it’s too late to ask for non-fat milk and sugar on the side, I reassure myself the faux pas won’t harm my diet. Everyone knows unintended calories don’t count; fat cells realize the error and disregard the weight gain.
The waitress places a platter of sugary condiments on the table before leaving. At first, I am inclined to resist them, but re-evaluate. Maybe this is a local tradition; it would be rude to offend our hosts. Besides, I’m on vacation; it’s almost an edict that one sample new foods while traveling.
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Funny Video: “#Hashtag” with Jimmy Fallon & Justin Timberlake
Just a little humor about how we communicate. It’s about two minutes long but well worth it.
The “cat’scade” effect
It’s difficult to describe a room’s layout without showing an image — so if you’re really, really into following this column (which describes how the furniture in our living room is placed), you might want to draw a big “L” on a piece of paper. Then again, you probably aren’t that compulsive.
Anyway, a chocolate brown three-person couch comprises the vertical leg of the “L”. Perpendicular to it, forming the horizontal leg of the “L” is a recliner, with both facing the entertainment center, which would be by the top of the “L.”
Stick with me. It’ll all come together soon.
On either end of the couch is an end table, usually covered with the common odds and ends that collect over the day. You know, wallets, reading glasses, books, maybe a coffee cup or two.
The room has a picture window, which would be “below “the bottom of the “L” and behind the recliner. In front of said window, and behind the recliner, is a coffee table. That might seem a poor placement — unless cats reside in your house as they do at ours. Therefore, utilization of the table has been ceded to our two ginger felines who sit there, staring out at the street.
Okay, the stage is set. Here we go.
My wife and I sit on the couch to watch television.
I’m sure most couples — for that matter, most families — always sit in the same place. In our case, I without fail place myself at the “top of the L” while she sits on the other end of the couch. Motor, our younger cat, perches on the coffee table. Mini-Schnauzer Jack rests between the two of us on the couch.
Then there’s Tiger; our older cat, Alpha of the four-legged members of the family.