The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

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Executing the Plan

Here I am in the middle of my first mission with HURLY BURLY, this secretive and evil group bent on world domination BUT ANYWAY that’s not the point.

So here we were, right? We just stole this painting that had secretly encoded into it a pattern discovered by a 4th century Mongolian mathematician … Clive, I think? Wait that doesn’t sound right.

Anyway we were about to leave having TOTALLY just hijacked this painting and no one had heard a thing and it was, like, just perfect you know? And then this guy shows up and somehow he managed to be in shadows the whole time he walked in even though we all had flashlights.

Turns out it was the head of HURLY BURLY (our secret evil organization, remember?) and he began this long speech about how we had just taken a great step toward world domination and it was really exciting to have him be there and all but … I mean … shouldn’t we get going? Our plan is sort of falling by the wayside here, chief.

But then this guy, this member of the crew I was on, he piped up and said something smarmy about how he had already been taking steps for years and the chief just freaking shoots him!

Oh my God, it was terrible.

And then the chief says all nonchalant, ‘any more questions?’

But here’s the thing – I DEFINITELY have a question! Because I have to pee really, really, really badly and it’s like … how much longer you going to be speaking, chief? Because we’ve still got to sneak out of here undetected and there’s only so much focus you can put on sneaking when you’ve got a full bladder.

And! And! Now that I am thinking about my bladder I am not even hearing his motivational speech about world domination.

But like … please can you take questions? Can you give us some sort of, ‘and wrapping up …’ kind of indication in your speech? I mean I want to be a top player in HURLY BURLY and all but I also don’t want to pee myself in this museum with this crazy painting.

Ok well I should probably stop texting you I think the chief just noticed even though I totally have the screen dimmed way low.

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Part of the Brood

The kiddo and I were at a park earlier today when we almost got … indoctrinated. I was sitting on the edge of a sandbox (it’s an awesome park) and the kiddo was inside playing. Another kiddo, maybe a year or two older, was also playing in the sandbox with a dump truck.

Then I blinked and one of the other kid’s siblings appeared. This one was maybe a year or two older than the first one.

I blinked again and yikes, another one! This one maybe four or five years older.

man sitting on stairs

I typed in brood in the wordpress free photo library and it gave me this. Come on man, I meant brood the noun!

And oh lord, that kid circling who is a year or so younger than the youngest one … are you part of this pack?

It seems like many people are having fewer kids these days but there are some really bucking the trend. Kudos to you, weird commune seeming people. Oh wait, my son just picked up a fistful  of sand and in the same time he took that the commune-mom got pregnant. No, she wasn’t having sex at the park, it’s just the family is that efficient.

But wow … was that ever one relaxed family. One of the brood crying at all times, seemingly taking turns with who would be crying, a dad who wasn’t there, and a mom just floating around, thinking (I can only assume) murderous thoughts.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to convince my wife she should be pregnant and/or nursing for the next twelve years.

Brood, here we come!!

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(Whistles) What a fox!

Can we take a second to talk about this phrase? Were people worried the first time they heard it? What about the first guy who saw a lady and said, ‘woah! what a fox!’ … And when he said that what he meant was, ‘woah! what an attractive lady!’

Was that guy … ok?

No. Probably not.

He was, APPARENTLY, into foxes. And one day he was out and about and he saw a lady who was maybe a redhead and sporting some furs or something and he thought, ‘that is the most fox-like woman I’ve ever met – FINALLY! My weird sexual proclivities can be met!’

But why did it catch on? Shouldn’t the people around him have said, ‘ew … Dave. Guy, NEVER use the word foxy as a compliment. It’s just (shudders) Dave stuff.’

And yet here we are, calling women foxy, creating unrealistic beauty standards for foxes and/or women. I’m not sure who has it worse. When it comes to Dave, foxes have it worse.

brown and white fox on green grass land

Photo by monicore on Pexels.com

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