Well then.

"The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything." -Friedrich Nietzsche


Excerpts from a Dog’s Daily Diary…
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!

9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk Bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary...
Day 983 of my captivity...
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. 
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards!
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...

Would you believe...

That I had squash left from my farm share in November...butternut and delicata and some sweet what did I do with them?  Butternut squash tortilla soup.  Here's how it goes:

1 butternut squash roasted
1 delicata squash roasted
5 small sweet potatoes
1/2 cup mild to medium chiles
1 large onion diced
1 32 oz. can tomatoes juice and all
1 32 oz. can tomato sauce
1 lb. boneless rotisserie chicken breasts shredded
corn tortillas cut into strips and fried til crisp
4 cloves garlic finely minced
1 moderately ripe avocado (optional)
1 lime cut into eighths (optional)
sour cream (optional)
cilantro for garnish, to taste
cumin to taste
chili powder to taste
salt to taste
water to consistency

Sautee onions until caramelized.  Add chiles.  Peel sweet potatoes and empty into pot with onions and chiles.  Cut roasted squash in half seed it, scoop out into pot with onions and chiles.  Allow sweet potatoes and squash to caramelize.  Add tomatoes and tomato sauce.  Add water to your preferred consistency.  Add cumin, chili powder, and salt to taste.  Add chicken.  Simmer until chicken absorbs flavor of soup.  Remove soup from heat.  Add minced garlic.  Stir well.  Spoon into serving bowls.  Garnish with avocado, lime juice, cilantro,  sour cream, and tortilla strips.  Enjoy.

There's a difference

'There's a difference between a guy who treats your friends like shit and you like a queen and one who treats you like shit because he is a queen.'
--Anonymous (to protect the innocent) and awesome


On Faith

When I was in second grade, I spent an entire recess period with my hand raised to the sky.  I asked G-d to drop water from the sky to show me he was real.  At the end of the recess, a wet drop fell into my hand.  I was elated.  I ran to the yard attendant and told her 'I asked G-d to drop water from the sky to show me he was real and now my hand is wet!!!"  I'll never forget her response:  'Go wash your hands.'