(EDIT: you do mean the National Inst. of Mental Health, right Cash? And not like, the Rats of NIMH?).
Actually, the NIMH in both the book and movie about Mrs. Brisby and the Rats of NIMH is the National Inst. of Mental Health. The rats in the books were extra smart because they'd escaped from NIMH.
Mr. Brisby (Frisby in the book) and Mr. Ages also escaped from NIMH labs and were super smart because of all the testing--but they were the only two mice that made it out alive with the rats.
It's Saturday night and I'm obviously bored out of my mind. DH is watching the recorded football game and the boy is asleep. I think I should probably try to go to be early tonight.
(Frisby in the book)
Okay, it was Frisby in the book. I was worried I was remembering wrong.
Hah! And here I am thinking of NIMH just because I'm all in DC and stuff. Who knew? It's been a very very long time since I've seen that movie (or read the book, for that matter).
That was my favorite movie as a kid, and I was so psyched when I realized what the initials were for. (Living right down the road from NIH and all. I desperately wanted my mom to plant a rose bush in our yard.)
Mr. Brisby (Frisby in the book)
I never understood that change. I mean, of all the pointless things, you know? Unless they figured, well, we changed everything else, no point in leaving that one little detail intact.
I'm listening to the music drifting in my windows from the 10th Annual "Tree Frog Music Festival" about a mile from here.
Either Neil Diamond dropped in unannounced, or a good Neil Diamond impersonator has been singing for the last hour or so.
Must be a good faker. Diamond is scheduled to be singing in Portland, Oregon at the Rose Garden tonight.
Pot is such a parent-type thing. So very old skool and shit.
This says more about my parents than it does me.
I'm getting old. I forgot to wish Perkins a
Happy Frickin' Birthday!!!
kicks pot stash under the couch
My pot stash is under the oven with the casserole pan stash.
OH! THAT kind of pot.