Via xkcd…

Today I received a spam entitled “Decomposable Blot.”

That’s awesome.

When I was a child I would send away for fabulous free things advertised in the back of comic books. The ads simply required the sender to include a self-addressed stamped envelope. I thought to myself, “Well, I addressed this envelope myself without anyone else’s help and I put a stamp on it, so it should be fine.” I never got anything back in the mail.

I was also certain that the phrase “in the long run” referred to an end of the world event, similar to the rapture. I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the other runners and wondered what might happen if I needed to stop for a minute to have a drink.

Every once in a while, I will get a wrong number call on my cell. Today I got three. Three different people called throughout the day, each asking for a different person: Lisa, Simon, and some other name. My phone is the Nexus of Almost Right.

Had to do a little bit of laundry today. I make several trips to and from the laundromat as part of my laundry cycle: drop it in the washer, switch it to the dryer, and then take it home. Today, as I pulled out onto the road near the laundromat, I kept hitting some kind of rut in the road. On the last trip, I couldn’t turn onto the road because it was shut down, cordoned off by the police. This was to protect drivers from the massive crater that had suddenly appeared where that rut used to be. It looked like a meteor had smashed into the street. I must have missed driving over this thing by a few minutes.

I was just washing my hands and I noticed that the soap pump was labelled “Antibacterial Nano Foam.” I thought that was pretty hip until I glanced back and it now just read “Antibacterial Hand Soap.” Ah well.

Alucard just ran into the room carrying something which he dropped and began chewing on. It was my wallet. Not only that but he had managed to pull out all the cash. Thankfully he left it in the bedroom, being interested only in playing with the wallet itself.

I just tried to cut and paste a friend’s mailing address from Outlook to a handwritten post-it note. Didn’t work too well.

This morning I awoke to find that one or more of my cats had successfully stalked the elusive gold tassel often found clinging to new curtains hanging in bedroom windows. As I slept, the golden tassel was pulled from its safe perch and dragged out to the living room where it was properly mauled. The remains of the tassel were found stashed inside the hunter’s den, which had at one time been a table. Only piles of gold string testified to the existence of this rare beast. Good job, cats.