Friday, November 26, 2010

This is pretty disturbing

I've been busy with school work lately and getting ready for my favorite holiday (Thanksgiving, of course) (which has all the glorious food and family time of Christmas but NONE of the gift-pondering and painstaking wrapping and guilty looking-over of receipts) and, of course thinking, about how I can weasel a few gifts for myself under the tree without any suspicion falling upon you know who.
In the midst of that excitement, I've neglected to post a really fantastic bedtime story I told Jared last week, but I'll do that some time soon.
But here, to tide you over, I have collected a conflagration of pictures sure to tickle your fancy. And if you have a problem with them, please send a note of outrage to (not me!) but Glenn, whose idea this was.

If you can correctly guess the genus and species of this animal, please leave a comment and your name will be entered into a drawing for $10,000,000, which Glenn has most generously volunteered to pay. (S0 thoughtful)

This fellow looks frightening, but even though his eyes hover right in the lavender color strata and his teeth look slightly vampiric, you should not fear him, for he is gentle and kind.

And this poor creature, aptly named Rudolfo, will fight to the death to defend the honor of those he loves, who are legion. We're talking stars in the sky and grains of sand here. All he needs is a drink every now and then, and once he gets that, his tongue returns to its normal size and recedes into his mouth most pleasantly.

And this one--the one standing most precociously on his hind legs--may look like the unfortunate victim of a diabolical scientific experiment, but that is grossly untrue. No, he just has stunted limbs and looks down his (albeit) tiny nose at those who assume heinous misfortune in his breeding.

There was supposed to be a picture of Bailey here, but we can't figure out how to work the SD card on our borrowed camera, so imagine another Chihuahua in the space below, one with snaggle teeth and hideous breath and a rather eager thing that likes to surprise people who are silly enough to hold him.

So, there you go. Happy Thanksgiving.
And don't forget to log your vote about the creature in the top picture!

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Boy Who Wouldn't Put His Laundry Away

Once there were two brothers named Honah and Hared, who were mostly quite obedient.
One evening, their mom asked them to put their clothes away after they had finished eating dinner and doing dishes.
There is something very important you should know about these boys. Hared was very obedient about putting his clothes away, but Honah hardly ever put his clothes away. He left them in the basket, day after day, until they made a very tall tower that reached the ceiling. Honah's mom was incredibly disappointed in him almost all the time because of it, but she made up for it by telling Hared how wonderful he was.
So, that night after dinner, the boys' mom reminded them about their job, and when they went upstairs to do it, she followed them up as silently as a ghost.
As she was walking up the stairs, she heard the sound of footsteps and slamming doors and she smiled in surprised delight. Maybe she wouldn't have to use the diabolical punishment she had devised after all.
Then she got upstairs and realized that her optimism was totally unfounded. True to form, Hared had put all his clothes away while Honah had left his in the basket. He was sitting on his bed playing with Hwirt, his Hearded Hragon.
That's when something unexpected happened.
The boys' mother took out her magic wand and pointed it out the window at a small black cloud high up in the sky. The cloud seemed to gather itself, shrinking a bit smaller, and then she pointed her wand at Honah.
In a flash, the cloud scudded across the sky toward their house. It spiralled down the chimney and swished down the hall toward the boys' room, and as it came, it spun faster and faster. By the time it reached their bedroom, it was a tormado (talk to Jared about the spelling).
The tormado swept through their room and sucked up every piece of Honah's clothes, even the clothes he was wearing. He was so embarrased that he jumped under his covers to hide. He might also have been a little afraid.
When the tormado had sucked up all of Honah's clothes, it disappeared.
Honah looked at his mom as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. "My clothes are all gone, mom," he said.
She just nodded.
"I don't have anything to wear to school tomorrow," he complained.
She just nodded.
For the next week, Honah wore clothes made out of toilet paper, which were both convenient and a huge pain. Convenient at bathroom break, but not so easy to deal with during recess time. Good thing the school had those huge rolls, that's all Honah could think about.
A week later, the sky got dark as rain clouds gathered over Honah's hometown. There was one cloud in particular that was small and very dark. Honah thought it looked familiar; so did his mom.
When the thunder rumbled, Honah's mother told him to look out the window. In the light of a lightning flash, he saw not rain but clothes streaming down from the sky. They were his clothes. He ran outside to gather them up, and he brought them inside and put them in the washing machine. His mom helped him start it, and she showed him how to work the dryer.
And when the clothes were dry, Honah helped his mom fold them and he put them all away.