Word Power Wednesday.

I am a loquacious, lamentably lachrymose lady.

loquacious: (adj.) very talkative.
ETYMOLOGY: 17c: from Latin loquax, from loqui to speak.

lachrymose: (adj.) literary
1 prone to frequent bouts of crying; liable to cry without much provocation.
2 said of a novel, play, film, etc: very sad; likely to make someone cry.
lachrymosely adverb.
ETYMOLOGY: 17c: from Latin lacrima tear.

I really like these two words, not only because they are very descriptive of me but they are just impressive and good to say.

How would you describe yourself? In the most impressive, alliterative way, please.


(All definitions shamelessly purloined from the Chambers Online Dictionary)

Literal Sketches #1: Guess!

Okay, it's not that hard - blogs are supposed to be fun, not hard work! But if you don't get it, put your mouse over the pic for the answer.

I'm thinking of making this a series, not sure yet if they will all be in the same style or all different or what. I have a few more I think it'd be fun to do.

Awwww... I mean, oh crap, what do I do now?!

So we found out that the scritchy-scratching little bastard vermin in our roof is actually a squirrel.

Not just any squirrel. A momma squirrel with three tiny adorable babas in a leafy nest in the corner of our attic. They have big bobbly heads and tiny pathetic leafy tails, like cartoonish versions of the real thing.

Rats I don't mind trapping, and by trapping I mean killing with spring-loaded traps*. I don't want to do that to squirrels. I would chase them out of the roof and just board that sucker up so they couldn't get back in, but I don't want to chase Momma out because her little darlings aren't old enough to leave the nest yet so they can't go with her.

We've been advised that if we bother them a bit Momma may move them to a safer location, but for now we've just sectioned off that part of the attic.

Damn adorable, precious little bastards.

***
UPDATE: Momma has moved the babies - the squirrels have left the building! Now we just have to figure a way to keep them out...


*Can you tell I just discovered text sizing? heeheehee!

Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned. Also, ribbit.

I made a jokey comment on another blog that was supposed to be funny but came off as mean. It hurt that blogger's feelings and I feel effing terrible about it, and I'm so sorry.

So in a desperately transparent effort to worm my way back into his good graces, I am breaking my promise to myself to stop pimping out other bloggers (because they're all better than me and all my readers bugger off to their blogs instead of reading mine) to bring you someone who is indeed one of the cool, beautiful people.

Allow me to introduce you to Trinity.

Trinity is awesome because:

1. Trinity is his real name. It's just a freaking cool name. Like a badass video game character or something.

2. The This Book Will Change Your Life Experiment - as he puts it, said Book is "a 365 page instruction manual for adding crazy shit into your life". He performs daily tasks as instructed by the Book and blogs his experiences for your reading pleasure. I don't think I've ever seen anyone do anything like this on a blog, and I really like it! Luckily he writes in an engaging and entertaining way, because even the best story needs to be told right.

There's no way in hell I'd ever do something that requires so much effort and commitment, but this way I can do it vicariously. Yay! It was an easy instant add to my ginormo reading list.

3. He is the soul-twin of my dear friend, ex-blogger The Girl with the Pink Teacup. Anyone Miss Teacup likes is instantly all right in my book, so in a way, Trinity had pre-approval before I even "met" him. She likes him so much she sent him Freddo Frogs, which brings me to the next part...

4. Trinity also goes by the blogger name of Newt the Wonder Frog. Now, a Wonder Frog sounds pretty awesome in itself, but this is because frogs are awesome already and here's why:

• Frogs are the first indicators of an ecosystem going tits-up. If the frogs are gone, everything else is headed for doom.

• Tree frogs are awesome. They look like plastic or rubber but they are real and they have adorable roundy toe pads. Also they get in the shower with you at your friend's house in the Australian bush. Not because they're pervy, but because it's delightfully humid in there, just like a rainforest.

• Poison Dart frogs are awesome. Toxic secretions from their skin are used by the indigenous peoples of Central & South America to poison the tips of blow-darts (wiki here), and also, they come in a delightful Crayola range of colors.

• Frog Princes are a staple of popular culture. No other animal has as much chance of turning into a prince as the frog. It's just a fact. Although there is little to no data on whether His Highness continues to eat flies after gaining human form.

• Freddo Frogs, as mentioned before, are Australian chocolate frogs available either in solid chocolate or filled with various flavors of delicious goo. And y'all know I like my candy.


So there you have it, now go visit Trinity and tell him I sent you and said he was cool, beautiful and awesome! and then please come back and read me.

The Blogisferia Chronicles: Chapter the Seventh

Please note - all Chronicles are stand-alones, you don't have to read any previous chapters to know what's going on.

Indulge me on this one, it's long but heartfelt.

Previous Chapters:
Chapter the First
Chapter the Second
Chapter the Third
Chapter the Fourth
Chapter the Fifth
Chapter the Sixth
*************************************

The Candysoda Tavern was cool & dark, even in the middle of the day. Princess Soda was sitting at the bar, grimly chugging drink after pink frothy drink and demanding more with a small fist slammed into the scarred wood of the bar-top. She glared belligerently around her and muttered foul imprecations under her breath.

A few stools down, Tennyson ee Hemingway the philosopher, in a battered leather hat with a band made of crocodile teeth, was nibbling thoughtfully on a huge slice of pavlova. He turned to the man next to him and said "Strewth Mo, what is the Princess doing in here? I didn't think she was a drinker!"

Mo was a dapper English fellow with a small sticky person in an orange & pink striped onesie clambering about his person. He replied "I only come in on Mo-days, but I heard she's been in here constantly the past few days and has to be carried out at closing time... The odd thing is, those are Shirley Temples she's shotgunning." Having imparted this wisdom, Mo sagely sipped his pint and returned to his favorite task of observing the colorful parade of people passing by the tavern.

Suddenly, down at the end of the bar, there was a puff of smoke and a loud bang. Mjenks the alchemist sat behind the now charred and smoking bar, a maniacal grin on his face. As the smoke cleared, he turned to the curvaceous redhead at his side and murmured "Vix a te videor posse tenere manus!"

Everyone politely averted their eyes from what occurred next.

As a lucky distraction, a commotion occurred that very minute. Outside the tavern, an oddly charming three-wheeled vehicle staggered to a halt in a sputtering cloud of fumes. An elderly gentleman with an impressive beard alighted and shuffled in to sit at the bar.

"You!" shouted the Princess, looking daggers at the old man. "She is lost to us because of you, Simon! Princess Teacup is gone because of your carelessness!" Princess Soda jumped down from the bar-stool, clenching her fists and stamping a tiny foot against the dark hardwood floor.

"I know," sobbed Simon. "And she was the most profitable, er, I mean sweetest, of my myriad illegitimate daughters as well."

Upon seeing his genuine grief, Princess Soda's rage evaporated. She and Simon embraced, and toasted to their dear lost Princess Teacup with huge foamy steins of Byron Bay lemonade.

And to make up for her ill humor, the Princess ordered a giant platter of Tim Tams for everyone in the bar.

*************************************
Tennyson, mo.stoneskin, INdefatigable mjenks & Simon: please accept this fine shield as proof of your Chroniclage.
Teacup my dear, I know you've quit blogging, but please continue to drop in here whenever you want.

How do you blog?

How do you blog?

Do you blog like a frog on a log?
Like a dog playing with Pogs?

Are you turning cogs in the fog
Or dancing in clogs?

Is your mind full of smog
Would you rather go for a jog?

How do you blog?

Namaste, dirtbags.

So the other day I misread Yoga Co-op as Yoga Cop.

Yoga Cop would make a great sitcom.

A big-city detective, retired after some traumatic experience in the line of duty, opens a yoga studio to try to find some inner peace. But after a typo in his newspaper ad, people keep coming to him to solve crimes and he always ends up using yoga to do it. Like maybe he meditates and centers his mind so that the solution can come to him, or he subdues the bad guy by twisting him into some pretzelly position, or discovers the missing bullet casings while doing a quick downward facing dog at the crime scene. Hilarity ensues.

Thomas Haden Church would make an excellent Yoga Cop. He would always be butting heads with the sassy Latina detective who's taken over his old beat. His yoga studio partners would be an elderly burnt-out hippie and a ditzy new-agey girl that would be his love interest.

Would you watch Yoga Cop? Leave your casting and plot suggestions in the comments!