Just Me and the Livestock, or Dom's on Vacation

Hello my dearies! I know no one is reading this drivel anymore, but I can't seem to stop myself. I think I have invented a new disease. I shall call it "bloggarrhea." Being a brand-spankin' new affliction, it will have to work out it's place in the pantheon of my other dysfunctional body processes. I can just hear it:

Irritable Bowel Syndrome: "Bitch, you get up off from bein' all in my stuff!"
New Affliction Bloggarrhea: "Oh no you did'n!"
Hypertension: "You go girl!"
IBS: "Who you callin' girl, girl?"
Hypercholesteremia: "That's really uncalled for."
NAB: "Shet the feck ep, skank!"
Primary Hypogonadism: "All y'all need to pipe down; I'm watchin' my stories."

Sigh. You get the idea.

Anyhoo, Dom has fled the country, oops, I mean "gone on vacation" to Mexico with some family members. And "family" works both ways here, people. if you know what I mean. I would have gone, too, except that Bloggarrhea's half-brother Diarrhea would have come a-callin' with some rather unpleasant results. I don't do well with la cuisine Mexicain. Also, my vacation time is my mostest precious commodity, given that I have yet to defend my dissertation.

This leaves me home alone. With the Pets. Our Quadrupeds. The Livestock. They Who Must Not Be Named. Actually, their names are already known unto ye who read this. Balthasar is just over one year old now (yay terrible twos!), and Zeke Whippet turns 6 in December (yay terrible sixes!). Behold:






They LOOK so sweet and innocent, don't they?

Shortly after this was taken, Zeke killed three juvenile squirrels in the yard, and Balthazar was sent away to a Convent For Wayward Kitties.














Actually, I have to give Zeke props. Here he is looking forlorn. I call your attention to the kitten, who is happily gnawing on his tail.


















Here it is, "hiding" in the sink, ready to spring and attack unsuspecting passing Zekes. Perhaps a few sammiches short of a picnic, but kudos for trying, right?
It has also of late taken to leaping onto Zeke/me/Dom/the couch/a fly/the curtains/nothing in particular and then zoom off to avoid punishment. Devious, this one is.










And here's My Ain True Love (with apologies to Alison Krauss). Yes, that is a tattoo of Turkey on his arm. I miss him when he's gone! Usually I'm the one who's away: gigs, teaching in Texas, selling body organs for food, etc.

Incidentally (or Was it?) I got a call from him just as I was typing this. He had just dined on, and I'm not making this up, congealed blood, crickets, sliced kidneys, beans, and chicken soup.

In case you're wondering I gave up congealed blood for Lent. And for After Lent. Also, For Ever. I had McDonald's for supper, which is not unlike the above menu in many ways.














And then randomly, this is my friend and co-worker Aili. She has a great smile, stunning red hair, her own home, and a winning personality to boot. Why is she single? Why WHY???!!

Oh yeah, because "Boys are dumb."

Here's to Aili and finding that one boy who is smart enough to let himself be caught!







Well my darlings, that is all for now. I'm almost ready to write a Ranting Blog where I wail on everything and everyone from W The President, my credit card company, student loans, Indiana University's residency requirements, my parental units, the Ex-gay movement, the oil industry, AM radio (the conservative talk shows have corrupted my dad), fundamentalist Christians, pants that don't fit, my job forbidding me to have facial hair, and cherry-flavored soft drinks (they ALL taste like cough syrup).


TTFN!
Keith