who am I ?
Dear readers, I am sorry for leaving you in suspense for so long. Here is an apology I wrote twenty years ago, whose sorrys still ring true today:
I am sorry for taking so long to announce the winners of my first ever caption contest. Thank you to everybody who submitted captions. I liked them all! But these were my favourites, the ones that made me laughed the most (in no order at all):
Actually, the last caption didn’t make me laugh because I didn’t really get it at first.
Anyway, how will you enjoy the end of August?
Me, I will enjoy it with fantastic Neo Citran dreams. Bye!!!!
Because I want my blog to be as interactive as possible, I am starting a… CAPTION CONTEST!!!!!!!! Yes! A caption contest! But this caption contest has a new and exciting twist!! Each image will be dedicated to a very special ~*friend*~!! That’s right! My caption contest will be full of inside jokes!!
OK, so this first post is dedicated to Tania! Here is the picture!!!:
You probably know the drill off the top of your head. Post your caption in the comments, and I will pick my favourite one in a week, when I upload my next picture!!!! Have a happy week guys! Especially you, Tania!!!!
In light of some terrible thing that has befallen me, I have decided to dedicate a part of my website to my Former Left Knee Ligament, henceforth named: my FLUNCKEL.
RIP, Flunckel. I loved you though I didn’t know it. And now that you are gone, I no longer feel whole. You are gone, and you have left a flunckel-shaped hole in my knee.
Seriously, though. Today I met with the surgeon, “Dr. Ted.” First his “fellow,” “Dr. April,” told me that some of his hockey buddies still play hockey with no ACLs, because Dr. April loves to play his hockey three times a week. Then he called me a frisbee-playing “weekend warrior,” which I think is a terrible misnomer, because first of all, I can’t play Ultimate at ALL right now. Second, I would refer to myself as a weekend wimp, given that my weekends have consistently consisted of watching cartoons while eating chocolatey cereal in my underwear. Like a wimp. Then Dr. April said that I should probably get surgery. Then both of the doctors made a big deal of the laxity of my knee’s pivot.
Now for some good news. Hooray for muscle atrophy!!!! I can now easily slip my atrophied left leg into half of a pair of skinny jeans!
Pictures to come!
The other day I felt a very strange longing. And when I saw a cool dude wearing a toque to match his tight skinny pants and cool bicycle in this blazing hot 40 degree weather, I remembered that I haven’t knit anything since March (!!!!). So here is a post dedicated to some things I knit over the last year or so, under the desk at the back of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.
I’M SORRY, BUT I REALLY HAVE TO INTERRUPT THIS POST FOR A SEC TO GET SOMETHING OFF MY CHEST. I know on Facebook I said, “if you comment on my blog i will give you something cool.” We all know that this was really just a cheap marketing ploy to get you clicking. But guess what??? It worked! I got 100 hits over three days!!!! And out of the 100 visits, 8 fantastic people left comments (Allie, Safia, Jessica, Kenny, Evan, Chiara, Ryan, Justin). That’s 8 percent. Now I can’t remember anything from that statistics course I faked my way through in second year, but I’m pretty sure 8 percent out of 100 is pretty ghastly.
(Don’t worry!!! This post is still about things I’ve knit!!!)
OH!! Here’s a thought. My suspicion is that I am Facebook friends with too many people that I’m not truly friends with. i.e. we don’t hang out in real life. So maybe you guys don’t feel like it is OK to comment on my ~intimate~ blog even though it was OK for you to click on my ~intimate~ link and show up in my Google Analytics. Who are you, o visitors from Willowdale, Kimhae, Malaga, Singapore, Oxford, Cambridge, El Paso, Kassel, and Brisbane (oh wait, I do know the answer to the last one, o sender of that strange anonymous email)?
Let me please assure the other 92% of you that I will not think you weird/socially wrong/awkward/creepy if you leave a comment on here, even though I don’t really know you and you don’t really know me despite the fact that I have shown up in your Facebook feed. In fact, if you leave a comment, I will think you are really cool.
As for the Holy Eight (Allie, Safia, Jessica, Kenny, Evan, Chiara, Ryan, Justin), I am actually going to think up something cool to give you in thanks for your Internet-courage!!! So brace yourselves!!!
OK, now, onto the rest of my post (for real):
I was going to try to knit socks, but after making a baby trial sock (which wasn’t too terrible), I remembered that I hate wearing socks so I shouldn’t assume that anybody else likes to wear them, either.
DEAR READERS: What was the last thing you made?
From underneath the kitchen sink
there reeks a really awful stink
of offal skins and garbage juice
and other foodstuff with no use…
The fume’s so foul we end our meal;
our noodles, cold, have no appeal.
We hold our breath and clear the spread
although our guts have not been fed.
We wipe the counter, wet our hands,
and scrub the crusty pots and pans…
But oh, that smell is much too vile —
our senses aren’t so versatile!
We hunker down, crouch to the floor
and peer behind the cupboard door.
But what is this? What’s this we see?
My Uncle Jim peers back at me!
His hands are full of bones and meat,
of turkey wings and chicken feet.
His face, once handsome, now is marred
with grease and crud and sludge and lard.
We grab him by the collar — quick!
He struggles with a punch and kick!
Bring vinegar to clean the slime!
Abrasive sponge to scrub the grime!
Then Uncle Jim begins scream:
GIRLS, PUT ME BACK! I’M ON YOUR TEAM!
“What’s that?” we say; we are perplexed.
We let him free; he says this next:
Imagine rodents tucked beneath
the kitchen sink: their tiny teeth
do tear upon the bits of flesh,
left over from your dinner, fresh.
They sleep inside the kitchen drawer,
and scatter crumbs upon the floor,
leave trails of refuse in their wake,
NO THANKS FOR ALL THE FOOD THEY TAKE.
Would you prefer those mice to me?
Your Uncle Jim, who quietly
has seen that no food goes to waste,
so thankful for the glorious taste
of all the food you deem unfit,
discreetly in a napkin spit…
But don’t you know? All food’s divine!
To Uncle Jim, all food is fine!
So tell me kids, what do you think?
To dwell beneath the kitchen sink:
which one is better? Mice or me?
We chew on this thought carefully…
Back underneath the kitchen sink
goes Uncle Jim, who gives a wink.
His parting words are soft but frank:
AUNT FLO’S INSIDE THE TOILET TANK.
written in 2010