10/16/10 – Saturday

Home again, home again! I meant to post this entry from Myrtle Beach, but I had to sit out on the steps to get my netbook to connect to the internet, and it wasn’t comfortable, so I only occasionally checked my email and did nothin’ else. There’ll be another entry up on Sunday, then probably … Continue reading “10/16/10 – Saturday”

Home again, home again!

I meant to post this entry from Myrtle Beach, but I had to sit out on the steps to get my netbook to connect to the internet, and it wasn’t comfortable, so I only occasionally checked my email and did nothin’ else. There’ll be another entry up on Sunday, then probably normal posting (or at least vacation picture recaps!) on Monday!

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Newt and the Squirrel.


“Come on down here, Mister Squirrel. I won’t hurt you!”


“NO.”


“Come on, Mister Squirrel, you know you wanna play!”


“NO. You’ll bite my head off and play with my body, and I’m rather fond of having my head remain attached to my body.”


“Come closer, Mister Squirrel…”


“That tree is certainly far away. Did someone move that thing?”


::pondering::


::preparing to leap::

In the end, though I didn’t catch it with the camera, the squirrel leapt over Newt’s head and ran for the tree. Newt was so surprised that it took him a few seconds to catch on what was going on, and by then it was too late. No squirrel for the Newtles. Not that day, anyway.

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“OH BOY A FEATHER TEASER! MY FAVORITE!”


“What’s he doing over there?”


“SIGH. I love my feather teaser!”


“How come HE gets all the good toys?”


“I’m kind of bored with my feather teaser.”


“OH BOY! Starsky toes! My favorite!”


“This feather teaser isn’t nearly as cool as he made it look.”

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Starsky and Hutch are, shall we say, a little PROTECTIVE of their food bowls.

And here’s some footage of them playing.

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Previously
2009: He cracks me up, that boy.
2008: He’s not usually pink, for the record.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: “M-O-O-N!” Fred said. “That spells Tom Cullen!”
2004: No entry.
2003: I’m pretty certain “Never going to fucking go hiking with him EVER A-FUCKING-GAIN” crossed my mind at least once.
2002: Hotel room so big/ roomy, spacious, perfect. Butt/ is what it smells like.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: Don’t get your bippies in an uproar, though; we’re not trying to get pregnant.