Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Wednesday, June 02, 2004 Humpblog (6/02/04)
We gave our house-sitter last week specific instructions regarding watering the lawn and our many outdoor plants and flowers. I'm glad I thought to wrap it up with the sentence, "Of course, on days when it rains, you don't need to water at all." Because by all reports, it rained almost every day we were gone.
There's nothing we Minnesotans appreciate more when we're on vacation than hearing about shitty weather back home. But this time there's an extra bonus, because the rain has nurtured the grass of my previously barren backyard to an Amazonian level of fecundity.
The downside is that the front really needs mowing, but I don't know when or if it's going to be dry enough. It's already to the point where cutting the grass with my old-school, motorless, M. Giant-powered lawnmower is going to be a workout comparable to bench-pressing a yak. But it's worth it in light of the transformation my back yard has undergone. Used to be I would turn on the sprinkler to make grass grow. Next time I turn on the sprinkler, it'll be in order to find it.
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Last week was my first visit to San Francisco. It was Trash's second.
As we were driving up the Pacific Coast Highway from Los Angeles, we passed a vineyard. During her last trip to the Bay Area, she and her grad school buddies toured a winery. Last week, we're driving up the highway and Trash points out the vineyard off the right shoulder. "There's Cabernet, and Merlot…"
I was impressed. "You can recognize the different kinds of vines?" After a one-day tour? Which was three years ago? Zooming past them at seventy-plus miles per hour, no less?
"There are signs next to them," she explained. Oh.
What? I was keeping my eyes on the road.
I should have realized it was something like that. During that winery tour a few years ago, Trash didn't spit out her samples like you're supposed to, so her memory of that day is a little patchy.
Even if she hadn't confessed, I like to think that I would have been onto her when she claimed to spot Shiraz a few minutes later.
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Last week I got this hoax warning in my e-mail from my former coworker, T-Rex:
I hate hoax warnings, but this one is important.
Please send this to everyone.
If a man comes to your front door and says he is conducting a survey and asks you to show him your ass,
DO NOT show him your ass.
This is a SCAM!!!!!!! He only wants to see your ass.
I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid and cheap!!
Pass it on.
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Today's best search phrase: "Sad hot dog cooker." As if there were any other kind.
posted by M. Giant 4:19 PM 0 comments