Because five years is so obvious.


Conventional Wisdom

So I was outside cleaning my window fans, finally having reached a point of frustration with them such that I no longer cared about their electrical well-being. They don't unscrew so there was no way to get at the blades manually and the thick layers of Los Angeles air dirt rendered vacuuming, air cans and any other cleaning options useless.

It seemed a good spray down was the only option before me. But what of the fans' moving motor parts? There was a time when I cared. It was past.

I decided the first step was to spray the grates and blades down with a good dousing of nature's grease cutter, vinegar. Then as if by magic, the dirt immediately loosed. It was beautiful. I nearly cried. Next up, I strapped the hose sprayer adapter onto the water source, set it to stun (Jet) and sprayed away like a maniac inflicting a shower of gunfire on her enemy. The whole thing was over in flash. I left the lifeless fans in the sun to cook and dry out.

Later, when I went to check on them, I noted something that prompted this tome. I'd left the vinegar spray bottle outside and now there was a FLY ON IT. I guess you can get a few flies with vinegar. Which explains how that hateful Elizabeth Hasselbeck (Or Crappelbeck, I like to call her) has any family or friends.


Dogs: NOT That Different Than Me

We both hate it when the Jehovah's Witnesses come to the door peddling their message of hope.



You know what I miss? Saltine crackers.

Of course, they're still around, but I just don't eat them much anymore. There was a period of my life when I would often mix up a can of tuna fish with some mayo and relish and crack open a sheath of saltine crackers.

You can do the math from there. It was tasty.

That is all. You can thank me later for sharing this delightful anecdote, Internet.


The Ultimate Material

"So... what are we going to do about this whole having-kids-during-end-times-global-warming thing?"

"Um, duct tape?"