M
moose eater
True Confessions...
Sometimes after I have been in the grow area, sniffing the ripening flowers, I'll gently rub the end of my nose an hour or so later, to appreciate the lingering essence of the blooms. It's not because my nose itches, and no, I'm not always picking my nose; it's because the smell from the resin stuck there still smells so nice.
Sometimes I squeeze my wife's poodle's squeaky toy when he's napping, just because his obsessive-compulsive reaction to anyone or anything squeezing his toy is so damned hilarious. He wakes up immediately, ears as erect as he can make them, and dashes to the toy to take over possession. He's a great dog, but so predictable...
The woods near our place are often quiet enough that the still winter air carries sound quite well. Sometimes I talk loudly enough when outside for the nosy neighbor through the woods to be able to hear what's said, knowing they'll contemplate it, and likely carry what ever bits of interest they have to others. It's a great way of testing the rumor mill and bringing embarrassment to a nosey neighbor. Cruel? I know..
Sometimes when we've screwed up and failed to remove my youngest son's tooth from beneath his pillow, I just give him the money up front, take the tooth, and tell him I'll get the tooth to the tooth fairy (and my compensation) when I bump into her in town. He's old enough to know the fallacy of all of this, but we go through the dance anyway.
Sometimes, after returning from hunting camp, after butchering or field dressing a moose or other larger animal that leaves my clothes covered in blood, I'll go into the local convenience store, liquor store and gas station, buy some band-aids and rolling papers, and say, "You should see the -other- guy." It almost always gets you to the front of the line...
Sometimes after I have been in the grow area, sniffing the ripening flowers, I'll gently rub the end of my nose an hour or so later, to appreciate the lingering essence of the blooms. It's not because my nose itches, and no, I'm not always picking my nose; it's because the smell from the resin stuck there still smells so nice.
Sometimes I squeeze my wife's poodle's squeaky toy when he's napping, just because his obsessive-compulsive reaction to anyone or anything squeezing his toy is so damned hilarious. He wakes up immediately, ears as erect as he can make them, and dashes to the toy to take over possession. He's a great dog, but so predictable...
The woods near our place are often quiet enough that the still winter air carries sound quite well. Sometimes I talk loudly enough when outside for the nosy neighbor through the woods to be able to hear what's said, knowing they'll contemplate it, and likely carry what ever bits of interest they have to others. It's a great way of testing the rumor mill and bringing embarrassment to a nosey neighbor. Cruel? I know..
Sometimes when we've screwed up and failed to remove my youngest son's tooth from beneath his pillow, I just give him the money up front, take the tooth, and tell him I'll get the tooth to the tooth fairy (and my compensation) when I bump into her in town. He's old enough to know the fallacy of all of this, but we go through the dance anyway.
Sometimes, after returning from hunting camp, after butchering or field dressing a moose or other larger animal that leaves my clothes covered in blood, I'll go into the local convenience store, liquor store and gas station, buy some band-aids and rolling papers, and say, "You should see the -other- guy." It almost always gets you to the front of the line...
