Notes from the couch while watching television:

"I'm not exactly sure how that diet pill works, but apparently it makes you turn around and yell 'Yes!'"


"You know, that would be kinda dangerous if that happened to me while I was on an elliptical machine."


"Good thing you don't have to exercise while taking diet pills, I guess."

* * * * *

Now. I've gotta ask you people something. Maybe you know the answer. Maybe you don't.

The phone rang.

"Hey, can I get you to do something for me?"I put down my cereal. "Sure," I said. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Edmund this morning?"

My mind raced. Oh, dear, had Edmund gotten himself stuck in a closet again? This could be bad. He tends to get destructive if he gets shut in somewhere. "Yeah, he's right here in front of me, looking at me. Why?"

"Would you ... would you take a look and see if there's something still dangling from ... his ass?"

To which I responded with the only possible reply: "What?!?"

Gareth: Heh. You will use the holiday skin and like it.

Amy: Can I quote you on that when I post the entry about all this?

For those of you who used your best StrongBad "Holy crap!" voice when you showed up here, relax. 'cat.net hasn't been taken over by aliens yet. There will be no alien takeover until December; until then we're free to make merry and taunt the cats.

We watch the strangest stuff around here. Possibly the only thing stranger than a couple who intends to remain childless watching a show about human reproduction is hearing said couple's comments during the course of the show.

If someone starts showing me a laparoscopic view of actual human ovary as it's trying to, well, ovulate, of course I'm going to start providing Gary Larson-style commentary:

*hand puppet*

"Hi, I'm an ovary."

(Perhaps it was funnier if you were there.)

Recent events have forced a bit of discussion with the Feline Overlords, most of which involved my making intelligible sounds in the form of requests, all of which were ignored or drowned out by the sound of insistent purring.

What do I do when I'm not coding? Lots of things, considering that I've been doing almost no coding lately. (All of this week's requests for code have been met with what can only be described as derisive giggling on my part.) Not sure why, but right now, when the brain stumbles onto the word code, I suddenly find myself with an immediate need to be in the living room, clipping recipes out of old Penzey's catalogs.

In other words, not a good sign for the code output.