Five Things I Think, July 23

1) I think it can be hilarious having a toddler.  What’d he do this time, you ask?  Well, it’s that whole being a copy-monkey thing.  He will occasionally parrot the last thing he hears, a phenomenon that has caused me to curtail the use of my very favorite word.

Recently, at his second 3^rd birthday party (the one with our friends), Wifefish tossed an epithet at one of the attendees who, as he was leaving, made an off-hand joke about going home for a ménage a mois.  “Masturbator!” she called him.  Fortunately, Little Danger wasn’t paying much attention.  “See you later!” he yelled.  We all lost it.   My boy is a comedian. 

2) I think it was an absolute blast watching my boy’s first T-ball practice.  He hit the ball with authority, then ran after it to throw it to first base.  Not quite getting the structure of the game just yet, that one.  It was also somewhat adorable how he would get to each base and stop, jumping on it with both feet.  I’m looking forward to seeing how he likes the game as the rules are processed and understood.  

Little Danger the adventurer!

3) I think I’m a bit tired of the whole Zimmerman trial thing.  Look, here’s my quick take on it.  Yes, it sucks balls that a kid died.  No, it wasn’t “murder”, because that’s kind of specific, and the prosecutor really should have damn well known it.  No, it wasn’t a “proper response by a gun owner”, because a responsible gun owner should have, knowing the police were on the way, surveilled the “suspect” from a safe distance, and not been in a position for anyone to be beating their head against pavement in the first damn place. 

My strongest condemnation, though, goes to the fucking media for turning this thing into a racist circus, calling Zimmerman a “white Hispanic”, editing tapes to make it sound as damning as possible, and creating a hue and cry where truly it shouldn’t have existed.  Responsible reporting is dead, people.  As a fucking doornail.  It’s become hard work to read any story, because you have to dig through all the fluff and bullshit to find any facts, and then go look for the rest of the facts across 18 news sources.  This condemnation may in fact lead to a Things I Hate sometime soon, because it really grinds my gears.

4)  I think that occasionally, one must make a silly decision, that is, a decision to be silly.  Today I made such a choice.  Wifefish has an alarm on her cellphone that is a string quartet, beginning with a nice cello line that is supposed to gently entice you to the land of wakefulness from out your blissful slumber.  Whereas it fails to do so quite as gently as one might wish, I have decided to pretend that it is not a cellphone at all, but the girls of Bond playing for us.  Wearing bowties.  That’s all.  (Yes, I’m going to the lecher’s hell, but I’m comfortable with my labels.) 

5) I think I may end up in the special Hell.  I had some lamb shoulder chops last night for dinner, broiled with a roasted peach whiskey sauce.  They were absofuckinglutely delicious.  This is not, however, the reason that I’m going to hell. 

Little Danger watches a show on Netflix sometimes called “Timmy Time”, a claymation show about a group of barnyard animals in preschool…Timmy is “A little lamb with a lot to learn”, according to the theme song.

That is, according to the theme song which I was gleefully humming while eating my dinner.  According to Wifefish, “You’re just not right.”  I agree with her.  

So what do you think, gang?  Let me know right there with the comment button...