Definitions again last week. Pensitivity101’s apologies if she’s duplicated any as she uses different word sites. Some of these she borrowed from fellow bloggers.
1. Verisimilitude
Not really poetry, but an amazing imitation.
2. Grikes
These are those three-wheel pedaled vehicles that senior citizens use to get in the way of real traffic around with.
3. Clints
This is a retrospective of every Eastwood film ever made. They contain more guns than the Russians in the Ukraine. 4. Kamenitza.
This was to be the squadron of Italian suicide pilots, in the Second World War. They only got one volunteer, and even he didn’t go down in flames. His name was Ernesto “Chicken” Cacciatore. 5. Rillenkaren
Double, double, toil and trouble.
Fire burn and cauldron bubble. She’s the Queen of a coven of entitled HOA bitches.
6. Cockalorum
This is a hot, steaming tureen full of cock-a-leekie soup, Scotland’s national dish, one of the reasons that Scottish men are men – even if some of them wear skirts. 7. Dongle
This is a nickname for any given Irishman, after taking on an evening’s normal pub rations. They see snakes, faeries, unicorns, and leprechauns. The Isle is not Enchanted. They just have too much blood in their alcohol system. 8. Fartlek
Surprisingly – disappointingly – I do not hold the record for the rankest natural-gas producer in the house. Cats eat protein, meat and/or meat by-products. Dogs are opportunistic omnivores. Our dog sometimes gets too many, and too varied, a selection of treats. We recently found that she loves lettuce – beware while making a sandwich. Occasionally, there’s a sharp little Thhbbpt noise where she’s lying, and she jumps up and looks around, offended. Then the miasma wafts over. A couple of times, it’s happened when she’s jumped up on the leg-support of my recliner, to join me in a nap. That’ll wake me up! 😮
9. Folderol.
That’s me, after the wife has voluntold me to “help” with the laundry. She holds a supervisory position.
10. Furphy
One dog, two cats, and three hairy humans in this house – it’s not dusty or dirty, but all that hair collects in visible windrows – in corners, at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the refrigerator. I pick it up by the handful. There’s no sense constantly vacuuming/hoovering. Aside from being too lazy busy, in half an hour there’ll be another wad by the stove.
One day a housework challenged husband decided to wash his sweatshirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to his wife, “What setting do I use on the washing machine?” “It depends,” she replied. “What does it say on your shirt?”
Proudly he yelled back, “Chicago Bears!”
***
Max and his wife Lola received a letter from their daughter who had gone to study Modern Biochemistry overseas:
She wrote: My beloved parents, I miss you so much and it breaks my heart to think that by the time I get back, you will be so old. Therefore, I am enclosing a bottle of a red potion that I have invented. It will make you 5 years younger and so when I return, you will be the same age as I left you. Please, take only a drop.
Goodbye I love you!”
They opened the envelope and found the bottle with the red potion.
Max looked at his wife and said. “You go first.”
Lola took a drop and when she indeed turned 5 years younger, Max immediately did the same.
Years later, the daughter returns home to find her mother, she is younger and happier and she is carrying a baby on her back. She tells her daughter how the potion worked and how it has made her look younger. The daughter is happy and she asks about her father.
“Your father? Hmmm! You know how men don’t listen! He drank the whole bottle.”
“Whaaat! Where is he?”
“Who do you think is on my back?”
***
You thought that the last couple of jokes were bad?? Well, this Fibonacci joke is worse than the last two, combined.
***
Two kids are arguing over whose father is the biggest scaredy-cat.
The first kid says, “My dad is so scared that when lightning strikes, he hides underneath the bed.”
The second kid replies, ”Yeah? Well, that’s nothing. My dad is so scared that when my mom has to work the nightshift, he sleeps with the lady next door.”
***
A group of engineering professors are all offered a free trip to Hawaii and are aboard the plane about to depart when the pilot announces, “This trip is a gift from all your grateful students over the years, students who, by the way, built this very plane you’re about to fly in.”
The professors immediately panic and make a break for the exits, all save one who sits calmly in their seat.
“Are you crazy?” another professor asks them. “Didn’t you hear that our students built this plane?”
“What are you all even worried about?” came the reply. “It’s not like this thing is going to fly!”
I can’t dress myself! Oh, I can put clothing on my body – but pick what to wear?? Shortly after I got married, my wife proved to me that, like many other newly-wed men, I was incapable of choosing acceptable attire. I haven’t bought myself a piece of clothing in over 54 years.
We have agreed on black jeans for normal, casual wear. For the mix-and-match polo shirts that go with them, her system for choosing to purchase seems to be based on – Ooh, I love that color – Ooh, I like the collar on that, and – Ooh, they’re on sale. We’ll get one in all four colors.
She was doing laundry one day, and asked me to check my closet for any empty hangers that would be needed to hang them up after drying. I opened the closet, and it was FULL of polo shirts – How many??! – 32!! How can I possibly have 32 shirts left, on the day she’s doing laundry?? Not having done laundry in two weeks, she had another 10 in the wash.
When she buys me new shirts, she says, “I’ll throw out all the old, threadbare ones to make room.” With 42 shirts in the rotation, how would any of them become threadbare?
I was wearing a particular shirt one day. She commented, “I haven’t seen that shirt in a while.” I responded, “You should see it every couple of months. I put shirts into the closet on the left, and take them out to wear, from the right.” “Wellll… You’ve got some shirts that I don’t like, so I go into your closet and move them around, so that you won’t wear them.”
Wait!! You do what??! You purchase all my shirts, and there are some that you don’t like??! No wonder I can’t choose any that she likes. She doesn’t even like the ones that she picks. Must be the ones with the OOH collars. And she goes into my closet and curates my clothing??! 😯
She does throw out threadbare shirts – right when she shouldn’t. At the old auto parts plant, the windows were one short step up from kitchen sieves. During a winter cold snap, temps on the floor could drop into the 60s, or even 50s F. I had 10 thick, warm work tee-shirts – 5 each for two weeks till she did laundry. In the summer, with no A/C and lots of hot vinyl, many days I worked in the 90s F. I had 10 thin, threadbare shirts.
As cold weather approached one winter, I put away the thin, summer shirts. At our first heat-wave in April, I went to pull them back out – but couldn’t find them. “Honey, do you know where my summer tee-shirts are?” “Oh, they were all so thin, and they had little holes and picks in them, so I just threw them all out. Just wear the good, thick, heavy ones. They cover you better, anyway.” I can’t even go out and buy thin, cool shirts.
The poor dear probably doesn’t even notice what she’s doing, and does it with the best of intentions and my welfare and best interests at heart. A guy could die from all that love. I’ll be wearing a clean shirt when you return in a couple of days – solid colors only – no stripes, spots, or Canadian plaid. Tell me if you like the collar. 😉
Our beautiful boy was kidnapped. Our beloved baby was snatched from us, causing 48+ hours of anxiety and worry, waiting for a ransom call for our feline hostage.
You’d think we’d know better. You’d think that we’d learned from experience. He wasn’t really kidnapped. We ‘misplaced’ Mica, our oldest, and prettiest, Bengal cat. The only time I left the house one night, was at 1 AM, to pick up the newspaper from the driveway. I saw the cat perched on top of the humidifier, at 3 AM. I say that it was the son’s fault.
I went to bed at 5 AM. The night-shift-working son came home at 8 AM. He says that he came in, locked the door as usual, and didn’t go out again. It must have been me. While we think that the cat is gorgeous, he has medical conditions that we dose him with four different medications for.
The son went to bed at 1 PM, which told me that it was time for me to get up. I went to the kitchen and got juice and pills for the wife, and dropped a capsule in a shot-glass with a bit of cooking oil, for the cat. I hold him, and the wife shoves the capsules down his throat.
I went back to the laundry room, where he has taken to sleeping on a pillow that now has to be washed. He was not there. Oh well, he’ll be back downstairs in the wicker basket on top of the storage cupboard. He was not there. I opened closets and cupboards. He might be sleeping in the storage area under the stairs, where I can’t see. He might have taken refuge behind the gas fireplace in the basement. He might have climbed up on the suspended ceiling in the rec-room.
Two of his meds are to keep him from getting hyper. Soon, he’ll be out, pacing and yowling. By 7 PM we had to reluctantly admit that he’d somehow got outside. He has no interest in the deck beyond the French doors. One way or another, he must have got out the front door.
“Lost” cats remain around their home for a couple of days. I put the wicker basket with a cat bed on the front porch. “Put out something with your scent.” The son added a pair of my socks from the laundry, and I shucked a sweaty tee shirt.
I put a water bowl and a plate of cat food beside it. The wife felt that was a horrible idea. Skunks…. and racoons…. and…. and…. hyenas will come to eat it and attack the cat. The next morning, when the veterinarian suggested it and she authorized it, it was suddenly a great idea.
She even thought of a great addition to it. Roll up the garage door a few inches – enough for a cat to get in, but not dogs or neighbor kids – and put food and water out there. I got to check each door every fiveminutes quarter hour. Now the list of chores begins. Our pets are all micro-chipped, so call our vet. Call the nearest animal hospital, in case someone brings him in. Call the Humane Society and report him lost. Use their online form to add a photo to the ‘Lost’ notification. Get the daughter to put up a notification on Facebook and a couple of other social media sites.
The wife used the above photo to produce a “Lost Cat” poster, and printed a dozen copies. With the help of the son and a roll of packing tape, we plastered 6 community mailboxes within a couple of blocks, and light poles at street corners. Took a copy to the animal hospital.
Not only is he a handsome cat, but Bengals are expensive and valuable. We were lucky to get ours at deep discounts. Anyone who enticed him into their home might want to keep him. The posters said that we loved and missed him and wanted him back. They also added that he had health problems, and required medications. Such a cat is far less likely to be kept.
All day, I wore a rut to the front and garage doors, checking. I finally got to bed at 7:30 AM. At noon, my first action was to open the front door to look. I must have whipped it open a bit vigorously. Something brownish streaked from the food dish, past the end of the garage. Was that Mica?? I unthreateningly followed onto the common driveway with the other half of our semi.
Dogs are dumb enough to come if you call their name. Cats…. not so much. There I stood, like a fool, going, mrowr – mrowr – mrowr. I looked all around, but couldn’t see him anywhere. I got down on hands and knees, and looked under our car – Nothing. I turned my head and looked under the neighbor’s car – and two bright eyes below two perky ears looked back – and answered, mrowr? Mrowr?
I carefully backed toward the garage, constantly talking to him. Slowly, he emerged, and slinked under the door. I quickly went inside, and opened the inner door. He’d skipped the food and water, and was sniffing at the junk along the far wall. I sidled past him, pulled the cord to disengage the door, and pushed it down tight. SAFE!!! Now we have to undo all that we have done – call the vet’s, call the animal hospital, call Humane Society, get them to remove notification, pull down all the posters – I’m too busy stroking Mica.
Two days in the wilds of suburbia to get him all hyped up – two days without medication to take the edge off – he was a bit wound up. After a couple of rounds of fresh food and water, we finally got him back on his meds cycle. Always a bit stand-offish, for the first several days back he was never more than arms-length away. Even now, he’s a far more sociable cat.
….But I can stretch it over Toronto’s CN Tower. Here’s a chance for you to do the same. Take the following list of questions, and provide interesting, entertaining and informative answers which might have people questioning your sanity, as well as your veracity.
What is the difference between a gooseberry and a grape?
A gooseberry is like a grape, but with a bad case of mold. Cannibals won’t eat clowns because they taste funny, but if you swallow a gooseberry whole, it will tickle your palate all the way to the bottom.
What is meant by skid row?
That’s what happens when I don’t change my underwear every day. One little brown stain in my BVDs, on laundry day, is forgivable, but when there’s a whole line of them, the wife says that I am going to involuntarily take that ‘Eat A Tide Pod Challenge.’
Why do elephants have big ears?
The better to hear you with, my dear Red Riding Hood. I am the elephant in the room. You should just put down the basket of bananas that you brought, and leave quickly, before you get stepped on. Don’t worry about making it back home safely, through the deep, dark woods. There was a pervert, transvestite wolf here when I arrived, all dressed up in one of Granny’s nighties, but I didn’t see him, and accidently sat on him. FYI: Granny’s gonna need a new bed too. Sorry!
What is green and travels at thousands of miles an hour?
The Canadian Federal Liberal eco-energy plan. Cover up five acres of soya-beans with ugly solar panels. Generate electricity at 12.3¢/Kwh. Sell it to the Americans for 3.8¢/Kwh. Put huge, ugly wind turbines in dairy pastures. Reduce milk production and farmers’ income by 20%. Generate electricity at 11.7¢/Kwh. Sell it to the Americans for 3.8¢/Kwh. Continue until the country is bankrupt, or the infrastructure has collapsed.
What is the difference between minimum and maximum?
I thought a mini-mum was a young, sexy female parent, with a high hem, and a maxi-mum was an older, more sedate one. The difference between minimum and maximum is actually a very fine line that either of them might cross on a 4-hour drive to a vacation campsite, with two young kids in the backseat. Are we there yet? I gotta wee! How long have we been driving? Bobby’s lookin’ at me! I gotta go poo-poo! Billy shoved me! Do cows have batteries? I went poo-poo in my pants. You don’t mind if I practice my soccer kick on your seat, do-ya? Drive faster honey. Risk a speeding ticket! If we’re not there in five minutes, I’m gonna bury one or both of them behind a big cedar tree.
What is a pantry?
It’s not spelled right, but this is a pan-tree – with a cooking utensil hanging from every branch.
What is a carnivore?
I am a carnivore, whenever the carnival comes to town. The rides are fun, but I head straight for the food lane – hot-dogs, hamburgers, French fries, caramel corn – are all okay, but they have Deep-Fried everything – corn dogs, cheese, ice cream, Mars bars. I walked past one booth, and the sign just said ‘FRIED’. I asked the guy, “Fried what?” “Nothing,” Just a big catcher’s mitt of fried dough, like John Pinette’s beavertails. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6y0GhNFcY6k I had two, with cinnamon and powdered sugar coating, and some Maple syrup.
What is another word for oriental?
I officially admit defeat! I can’t think of a serious, or humorous, way to define “Oriental” in a single word. I am just waiting to see what other people do with the prompt. I could do a bit about Orientals’ North American driving looking like they learned to pilot vehicles with rickshaws in Tokyo, or tuk-tuks in Indonesia.
I could riff on their hive-mind, and the likelihood of them ignoring American social patterns to get a great education, and a 6- or 7-figure job, but I don’t want to be counter-cultured, or even doxxed, by a squad of #YellowLivesMatter ninjas.
What is the difference between pussy willow and catkins?
This is FHRITPGrab Her By The Pussy-willow Trump,
and these are my cat-kins.
What is a felony?
I’m not sure, but if a person who commits burglary is a burglar, and a person who commits a felony is a felon, then God is an iron. It is a great irony that, as God has created us, everything that we like, enjoy, desire, strive for – is bad for us. W.C.Fields said that everything he liked was illegal, immoral or fattening. Salt, that makes things taste good? – causes heart problems. Sugar, in candies and yummy do-nuts – rots teeth and causes obesity. Smoking ruins lungs.
Alcohol ruins marriages, friendships, and livers. Drugs…. Don’t get me started! I can barely handle reality. I don’t know why anyone would want to do drugs. Sex – causes abortions, STDs, bar fights, battered wives and divorces, but we keep striving for them all. Is resisting temptation supposed to be good for us??! Why couldn’t He just create us, already loving broccoli, liver, and Disney movies?
I notice things. I find money, because I look where people will lose money. The $100 bill that I picked up from a grocery store checkout line floor, had been stepped on by the two customers in front of me. I check the overflow chutes of the coin-counting machines found in many grocery stores. I found 40 pennies in one, before Canada stopped minting them. I still find the occasional few, because the machines have been set to reject them.
I recently left my neighborhood store, and glanced at the chute as I passed. There were coins in it. Not just a couple of pennies, or a bent dime, or a foreign coin that I could add to my collection. The chute was full. I bent over to see what they were…. and they were Loonies and Toonies – Canada’s, one and two dollar coins.
I quickly looked around, to see if there was someone cashing in a machine receipt – someone who would yell, “Get away from there! That’s my money!” No-one was paying me the least attention. I took a large handful and dumped it into my shirt packet – and another large handful – and another large handful. I scraped the last of it together and poured it into my pocket, affecting an off-the-shoulder look as I scuttled out.
I hoped to beat my $100 dollar record. When I got home, I sorted it out. 21 Toonies = $42, 33 Loonies = $33, and 4 quarters, totaling $76. Not a bad reward for just paying attention. The next day, I only found two dimes.
***
Newspaper article headline Should Kitchener aim to end all traffic injuries?
Nah! Let’s maintain the ‘Run Em Down’ protocol we’ve always had!
Duh. While that headline may seem rather silly, what the article was (delicately) asking, was, how much tax revenue can we afford to spend, for how much reduction in injuries.
***
How can you tell when a Christian Apologist blogger is lying?
That’s a trick question. They’re always lying!
The liars are the majority, who won’t enable comments. They make strawman claim after special pleading claim, but won’t engage in debate, or allow Atheists to offer counter-arguments.
The ones who are even worse than this, are the ones who edit out comments they don’t like. I found a Christian trivia post which asked, “Who did Paul say should not be allowed to continue to Cyrene, because he had left the group?”
Knowing what would happen, I gave two answers. Howard Stern? Ray Comfort, because he went out for more bananas? (If you don’t get the Ray Comfort joke, Google it.) Sure enough, when I returned the next day, I had been excised.
***
I heard a TV weather forecast during the cold snap around Christmas. The announcer warned not to travel to Canada’s Prairie Provinces, because the temperatures could go down to Negative 35. I’ve never heard that expression used before. It sounds like we owe somebody some weather. Technically, it’s correct. Plus and Minus are mathematical terms which indicate actions. Five, minus (take away) three, equals two. Have any of you ever heard a weather forecast which included the term “negative” temperatures. My new online friend from Kenya is exempted.
***
After claiming victory over an infestation of rats, Oh Rats!, they came back for a second round. I tried to turn the central air-conditioner on, and found that they had chewed their way in through the tiny hole that carries the tubes to the outdoor unit…. and the control wire. 😯 😦 After that repair, I sprayed the hole full of expanding, hardening plastic foam.
I had replaced the flexible dryer hose with another plastic one, because the path the tube takes from the machine to the outside vent is quite twisty, and complex. To prevent another attack from that direction, I hired Dryer Vent Wizard to install solid, aluminum tubing.
The installation tech was, indeed, a wizard. When he moved the dryer, leaving a hole in the floor, to the basement, Mica, my Fred Astaire-dancer, Bengal cat showed up to supervise. Workers like this now all take pictures with their smart-phones, as proof of work done. We didn’t even know that Mica was there. He leaned up, took a photo, showed it to us when he finished, and sent it to us by email.
I’ve been reading again, everything from the Dictionary, down to the laundry label on my jeans, and tea leaves. You will run into a very strange man – but it will just be the full-length mirror in the bathroom.
For no good reason, this is another list of a few more interesting but non-common words that have wheeled through the skateboard park that is my mind.
asseverate – to declare earnestly or solemnly, to affirm positively
brisance – the shattering power of high explosives
cavil – a trivial and irritating objection, to raise such an objection or to find fault unnecessarily
daubery – unskillful painting or work
eristic – someone who engages in disputation, a controversialist, a troll
farouche – fierce, unsociable, shy, sullen
glabella – the flat area of bone between the eyebrows
hie – to speed, to go in haste
illation – drawing a conclusion
jussive – expressing a mild command
kerf – a cut or incision made by a saw or other instrument
lepidote – covered with scales or scaly spots
marmoreal – of or like marble
nictitate – wink
orison – a prayer
picaresque – roguish
quondam – former
redintegrate – to make whole again
scandent – climbing (like a plant)
telluric – earthly, terrestrial – see also Tellurian
univocal – having only one possible meaning, unambiguous
vulnerary – useful for healing wounds
wedeling – a series of alternating turns made at high speed, especially skiing
xeric – relating to an environment containing or characterized by little moisture
the basis for the Xerox machine, which uses dry ink
yaffle – to speak vaguely, pointlessly and at considerable length
zymosis – an infectious or contagious disease Placed on this list 6 months ago – long before COVID19
The smartest British archeologist on the Time Team talks like an American redneck. Lost letters, missing punctuation, and strange pronunciations (even for a Brit) litter his speech patterns, which were already set, in up-country Yorkshire, before he got an amazing education.
If he and his trusty trowel happen upon a particularly interesting/significant find, he is apt to burst out with
STONE THE CROWS!
An exclamation of incredulity or annoyance.
There are some words and phrases which dictionaries just cannot prove the origin of, like “rule of thumb.” That problem interests me, because this one is so new. The British OED claims that it is an American culturalism. Merriam-Webster insists that it is a British phrase. When they can’t fault each other, they blame it on the Australians.
There have been a few attempts to explain the origin of this odd phrase. A croze is the groove at the end of a wooden barrel that holds the end plate in place. It has been suggested that the expression was previously stow (or stove) the croze, that is, break open the barrel. I can find no supporting evidence for that idea though and have to consign it to the realms of folk-etymology. The more prosaic suggestion – that it alludes to the practice of throwing stones at crows – is much more likely.
I’ve found mid-20th century references from England that describe it as an Americanism and American newspaper articles that call it ‘an old English phrase’. The dates of those are more or less right but not the locations – the phrase appears to have originated in Australia. Most of the early citations in print come from down under. It has a sort of Australian twang to it and is in common with several other similar phrases, all with the same meaning: starve the bardies [bardies are grubs], stiffen the crows, spare the crow.
Crows were unwelcome guests at sheep farms as, given the chance, they will kill and eat newborn lambs, so the association with annoyance isn’t hard to see. The link in meaning to surprise isn’t obvious, but then there’s no particular reason to expect to find one. Stoning crows was a commonplace enough activity and calling it up into a phrase could have been done for no reason other than that the person who coined it just liked the sound of it. There are other expressions of surprise or annoyance like I’ll go to the foot of our stairs, strike me pink, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle or if that don’t take the rag off the bush. None Most of these don’t have any sensible literal meaning and stone the crows is another to add to that list.
“Take the rag off the bush” actually dates to before households had laundry dryers, or even outdoor lines to hang it on. Large items like bed sheets or blankets were often draped over shrubs or bushes to dry in the sun and breeze. If a strong-enough gust of wind came along, it could blow the ‘rag’ off the bush, and down the street, into the dust or mud, and it would have to be washed (by hand) all over again.
Anything worth doing is….worth overdoing.
If you’re like the wife and I, when you reach our age, you’ll have too much of everything – except money.
The wife’s adopted totem is the
LADYBUG
which is why she used to blog under the pseudonym, GranmaLadybug.
We (she) have ladybugs of all sorts and sizes. On the metallic whiteboard in the kitchen, where we write shopping lists and notes, she has 12 little-fingernail size magnetic ladybugs, along with a 1½ inch plastic one. On the side of the filing cabinet in the computer room, there are 6 thumb-nail sized magnets.
The little timer in the laundry room is a 2-inch ladybug. We have a 2-inch fabric one that is supposed to be a pin-cushion, but sits on a display shelf with other curios. There’s a 3 inch wooden one, stuck to the fridge, and a 4 inch stained glass one on the wall above the computer.
I found a 3 inch plastic child’s toy one in a mall parking lot. When you squeeze it, it lights up, and we hung a 4 inch framed cross-stitch version beside the kitchen whiteboard. She has three sets of ladybug earrings, and a ladybug pendant necklace, some ladybug stickers, and a ladybug stamp that she adds to birthday cards and personal notes.
The grandson and fiancée bought her a wooden step-stool with painted ladybugs all over it. She set up my new computer so that I click on an icon labeled Archon to fire it up, but she’s not fooling me. There’s a ladybug above my name. There used to be a 6 inch ladybug whirligig in the garden, but after years of exposure to plastic-destroying ultra-violet radiation, the madly spinning wings have disintegrated.
Aside from being cute, ladybugs are useful. They eat things like aphids, which suck the sap out of the gardener-wife’s pretty flowers. Until recently, all local ladybugs were a good solid red color. Like the Asian zebra mussels which now infest the Great Lakes, and the Asian carp in the Chicago River, that we’re trying to keep out of the Great Lakes, we now have Asian ladybugs. They’re more Crayola crayon orange. If one should happen to land on you, they can give a nasty little bite.
When President Kennedy was assassinated, Texan VP, Lyndon Johnson took over, and we found that his wife was known as ‘Ladybird.’ I thought nothing of that cute name, but recently found that, especially in the Southern United States, it means the same as ‘Ladybug.’ In the heat of the South, they must grow them big, to call them ‘birds.’
I recently took an online IQ test. I only scored 133, disappointingly below the 140 level needed to get me into Mensa. Ahhh….I wouldn’t want to be a member of a group who would accept me as a member. One of the ‘questions’ was a picture with the black outline of a Victorian woman in a bustled dress with a parasol. Beside it was the black outline of a crow, or raven. This represented….? A: mammal, B: reptile, C: bird, D: insect. Hmmm…a lady, and a bird. I picked D: insect, because I speak a little Redneck.
I hope I haven’t bugged you with my Babylon babbling. I hope to see you here again, soon. 😀
Archon's Den 