Red Nose

The Road To Hell Goes Right Past The K of C Hall

Enough time has passed that I can now tell this story all over the vast and glorious internet.

Last summer SonnyeBoy backed up a fellow officer on a DUI call. It was very late at night (or very early in the morning, if you prefer) and Officer Buddy noticed a car zig-zagging all over Coastal Highway. Officer Buddy attempted to pull the car over, but the driver did not stop. The female driver wasn't trying to flee, as the car did not pick up speed or pull any evasive maneuvers, she just didn't stop.

The officer continued to follow the car. Finally, the driver turned up a street toward the ocean and stopped. Officer Buddy and SonnyeBoy pulled in behind.

The driver and passenger were two older ladies. The driver was in her late 60s; the passenger was in her early 70s.

They were both hammered. Shitfaced. Blotto.

As Officer Buddy conducted the field sobriety tests on the driver -- who was failing them in a most spectacular fashion -- another car pulled up behind SonnyeBoy. The driver jumped out and ran up to SonnyeBoy.

"Officer! Is everything all right?" he asked anxiously.

"Wait a minute -- what's your interest in this?" replied SonnyeBoy, answering a question with a question.

"I was with the ladies and I know they've had a little too much to drink. I was following them to make sure they got home safely. You see, they're sisters -- "

"Sisters? So what?" interrupted SonnyeBoy.

" -- of Mercy!" finished the guy.

"What? They're NUNS???" inquired SonnyeBoy.

"Yes! We were all up at the Knights of Columbus Hall in Fenwick Island and they sort of overindulged."

"Stay right here," requested SonnyeBoy, "Iet me talk to the arresting officer."

Officer Buddy was just about to handcuff Sister Mary Drunkard when SonnyeBoy whispered, "Um, I just found out that these ladies? Are nuns."

"NUNS??? JESUS CHRIST! I can't arrest a nun! I'll go to hell!" cried Officer Buddy.

SonnyeBoy and Officer Buddy were at a loss, trying to figure out an acceptable solution to this problem. Finally, they agreed that Officer Buddy would drive Sister Mary Drunkard and Sister Mary Soused to their hotel, while SonnyeBoy would follow in the cruiser, pick up Officer Buddy, and return to the scene to retrieve the other cruiser.

Whew. Hell avoided.

But Sister Mary Drunkard did receive a good talking-to from Officer Buddy, an order that requires her to take her driver's test again, just to ensure that she's roadworthy, and a good crack across the knuckles with a ruler.

(Just kidding about the ruler.)

I Seem To Be Married To An Insane Arms Dealer

In my last conversation with SonnyeBoy, I mentioned that Joe and I were probably going to see Ironman this weekend. SonnyeBoy said that the show was great, but I should pay particular attention to the character played by Jeff Bridges.

"He looks just like someone we know," said SonnyeBoy.

He is nothing but a big tease.

Anyway, we went to see the movie last weekend. And there he was: Jeff Bridges as the evil Obediah Stane.

My husband.

Rare Sighting

I was driving into work Friday morning, at the tale end of a rainy night turned soggy morning, when it whizzed by.

Could it be?

I chased it down the road, trying to get a better picture.

Alas! It was too quick, zipping down the road as other, bigger cars cut in front of me. I thought I'd lost it, but then it got stuck behind a bus. Before I knew it, I sped by! And I thought, "Hmm. Drive sanely, or try to take a picture and wreck the car?"

I'm way too sensible.

But I kept the camera turned on, put it on the seat next to me, kept driving and waited.

And then, at the scary circle of doom on the edge of DC and Maryland, I got my chance and took it.

My first sighting of a Smart car in the wild!

I want one. Yes, I do.

It's A Crummy Commercial!

Okay, I'm idly playing a little Solitaire Scrabulous. Why Solitaire? Because I'm a scaredy-cat and do not wish my vocabulary skills against other people.

I think I'm getting better, though. When I first starting playing, I was lucky to put down words of more than three letters; now I have actually used all seven letters at a time.

Once, anyway.

But that's not what this is about. I finished up a game -- scored 502, by the way, not quite my highest but definitely up there -- and saw the clever ad at the bottom of the page:

Free IQ Test!

What the hell, I think. I'd kind of like to know my IQ.

So I click through and take the test. It's the usual mixture of Miller Analogies and Complete the Sequence and Math Stuff and Word Scrambles. Then I click the Get Results button.

Oh holy dear sweet Jesus! I don't get the results; I get page after page after page of "offers" disguised as a "survey." Most of these offers require you to divulge your email address to get crap or to immediately sign up for some kind of service (Only $9.99 month! Starting now!).

I click "No! HELL no!" on all of them, but it seems I have to at least look at one per screen. So I do, and I click "What part of 'NO' don't you understand?" on each of them. Finally the damn IQ Thing gets tired of me and gives up.

I swear, I would have quit after the first stupid offer but I really wanted to know my IQ. As I kept clicking "NO, DAMMIT!!" I began to wonder if there was any correlation between the IQ result and the number of online "offers" that a person accepted. For example, was the IQ result automatically lowered by 5 points for each offer a person fell for? What I lowering or raising my IQ by being so obstinate? Did people with lower IQs get suckered into accepting lots of these offers, or did people with higher IQs tend to do it?

There's a master's thesis in there somewhere. Possibly a doctoral dissertation.

Also, once the IQ Thing finally gave me the results, it invited me to copy a code snippet to put on my site so everyone could take the test -- or fall for one of the many offers.

So, no snippet. No link. I live to serve.

My IQ is 152. Is that good?

There Goes Tokyo

Okay, by popular demand -- or at least because Steph is curious and Kitty wants to see it -- here's a picture of the Godzilla ring!

What makes this delightful piece of haute couture jewelry even better is that it's handmade from a Scrabble tile! This one is a "T", so it's only worth one point in the game. I got it here. Looks like I was just in time, too!

Yes, I was in my car when I took the shot, stopped dead in traffic. So I says to myself, "Take a picture!" So I did. And here it is! It came with a matching tie tack for Joe, so between the two of us, we can really do some damage to any unsuspecting cities that happen to be in our way.

Soldiers vs Shrinks

Come On In!
Originally uploaded by Bozoette

My volunteer stint ended with a wonderful group dinner at The Shed, a fabulous barbeque joint (and I do mean joint) in Gautier, Mississippi. Some of the KaBOOM! crew joined us for beer and baby-back ribs, pulled pork, beans, and slaw. A great time was had by all!

I found out from Abe, one of the KaBOOM! crew, about one of the challenges of running a playground build with many different types of volunteers.

He loves the builds with volunteers from the military. When you tell them to do something, they say, "Yes, sir!" or "Yes, ma'am!" and then they do it.

He's also done a build in Los Angeles, where many of the volunteers were psychologists. Evidently, when you tell psychologists to do something, they say, "Why?"

He's not so hot on those.

Shakespuck

Well, we had tickets to Macbeth at the Folger Shakespeare Theater, the one with special effects by Teller. We got them months ago, back when the Caps were still in the basement of the Southeastern Division.

And then a miracle occurred, and lo, my boys are in the playoffs. As soon as the horn blew at the end of the game, I jumped online and bought playoff tickets. We have not had a chance to see one, single game this season -- not one! -- so it was only natural that I would immediately get tickets for the first game. After all, the first round starts Wednesday! The ninth! I was lucky; I nabbed two tickets in the lower bowl for the first game. I was confident that, when the dust settled and the first round schedule was finalized, that we would be just fine.

As I said, I was kind of hoping that our first opponent would be the Ottawa Senators, partly because the Caps swept the Sens this season -- I mean, we even beat the Senators when we were bad and they were good!  -- and partly because I wanted those Timbits from my pal. Of course, I'm assuming he would have agreed to the bet.

However, the goddamn Penguins had to go and lose to the Flyers, so we instead meet the Flyers in the first round. Normally I would experience only a mild frisson of disappointment at this, but then the NHL announced the schedule.

The first game?

Duhn duhn duhn...

Friday night.

Okay! We'll just get tickets to the second game!

Um. Sold out.

Okay! We'll just get tickets to another performance!

Um. Sold out.

Decision time.

We are simple people. Some might say we lack an appreciation for the finer things in life. Some might even call us unsophisticated boobs. I knew what I wanted to do; I asked Joe.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

C-A-P-S Caps! Caps! Caps!

Fifteen minutes after I posted the Macbeth tickets on Craigslist, they were gone. I'm sure that the very nice person who bought them will enjoy the show.

Meanwhile...

Is this a hockey stick which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have the puck, and yet I see the net.
Thou art MVP, Ovechkin, sensible
To skating for the score, for thou art but
A dagger of the ice, a fine creation,
Proceeding from the hockey-obsess'd brain.

Renegade Apostrophe II

I saw this sign on a bulletin board at a middle school. If a teacher created it, I weep for the profession. If a student created it, where the hell was the teacher?

I won't get into the lack of a comma after the introductory phrase or the misuse of the ellipsis. I hope the cartoons are better than the grammar.

It makes me cranky to see the noble apostrophe so mistreated, creating possessives when plurals are meant. Perhaps the Cartooning Club meets at Wednesday's house. No, the Cartooning Club meets in Room 315; it says so.

Some may say I'm too nit-picky. I disagree. It's a slippery slope, my friends. First, a renegade apostrophe; next, a rebellious semicolon -- pretty soon the subjects and verbs are disagreeing and the clauses are declaring independence. Exclamation points will run amok!!!!! Interjections will jump in where they're not wanted, and God knows what will happen with the ejaculations. Question marks will get turned on their heads -- no, wait; that's Spanish. Never mind.

Um... Yeah.

Really -- I'm not asleep. Honest.

Taps

I know that the Ale House is not the only joint with cool taps, but I happened to be sitting in front of these the other night and just happened to snap this picture. From left, we have taps for Flying Dog K-9 Winter Ale, Sam Adams Winter Lager, Anchor Steam, Heavy Seas Winter Storm, BaltoMarzHon, Backdraft Brown, Newcastle Brown Ale, and Smithwick's  (that's pronounced "Smitticks," by the way) Ale.

I particularly like the fire hydrant for the Backdraft Brown and the pirate skull for the Winter Storm, but my favorite is the tap for the BaltoMarzHon, with its guy sitting on the stoop asking, in perfect Balmer, "Jeet yet?" and "Wurjagitdat beer, Hon?"

It's good, too!