Bob sent me the pictures earlier today and we were trying to figure out if that was a grenade, or more likely, a dropper. I said the dropper makes sense because "[t]hey might use a dropper to feed the bobcat or give it medicine or Russian sexual purposes."

Bob: lol

"Russian sexual purposes" is quite the catch-all.

me: ha!

indeed.

Bob: The only broader phrase is "German pornography"

My grandma and great-aunt got sucked into a vitamin regime that was supposed to be a cure-all for all their ills. I don't know if Grandma stopped her regular meds (I don't think so), but the heavy doses of vitamins ended up giving her what looked at first like a stroke. It was only after she was checked into the hospital that they determined it was vitamin overdose. Scary stuff.

Love the Russian "pet" bobcat pictures. The ones where it's licking the cat ... the cat seems to be saying "I really don't like it, but it's bigger than me!" ... or possibly wondering if the bobcat is taking a preliminary taste before having kitty for lunch.

a) why not eat the chicken OUTSIDE?

b) why not share the nummy nummy catfish?

c) just glad it doesn't eat the kitty.

d) Jilli, NO

d) Jilli, NO

Spoilsport. I'd leash-train it and everything!

Cats aren't big on the sharing ... and possibly it brought the chicken inside to show its mad hunting skillz. Or maybe the chicken was inside to start with.

All this is reminding me of the commercial I saw over the weekend, with the guy asking someone their opinion on which animal he should select for a pet--a dog, a goat, or an anaconda--followed by the line, "Wait a minute, where's the goat?" and the anaconda slithering around the backyard with a big bulge in its stomach.

Excellent! Who am I supposed to be partnered with?

I'm in. Wouldn't that be awesome?

The human brain is incredibly good at detecting patterns, to the point where it often detects patterns that aren't there.

At one house I lived in, the vinyl flooring was in a kind of random mosaic pattern, and one part looked like a very detailed robot to me and I saw that robot every time I looked at the floor. It was like in Nabokov's memoir, when he talked about looking at the past being like looking for the hidden pictures in something like Highlights for Children. Once you see the hidden squirrel, you can't unsee it.

I don't believe in ghosts as actual spirits of the dead, but there are enough stories for me to think that horrific events might leave some kind of imprint.

And I'd vote for Perry Como as our lord and savior.

That's the way I was raised. My mother's had a crush on him for 60+ years.

If you let me shoot the shotgun leftie I'd be willing to help.

And no, I don't think that's a grenade.

Damn. That was the tartest Granny Smith apple I've had in forever. The organic fruit at this one supermarket tend to be watery and disappointing, but that was five apples worth of pucker wrapped up in one.

Bah. Server Changeover of Doom in 10 minutes....

eta: In case of failure, I doubt the excuse that "So what if people not on the local VPN can no longer enter their timesheets" will fly....