Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween. I always have. That's probably one reason why I became a Witch. I love dressing up (even when it's not Halloween) but I haven't got to the point of dressing up my dog. I think she's just rip the costume off. But if I did, I'd probably get something like the costume pictured.

I used to love getting the candy during trick or treat. Now, I'm on the other side of the door and I think I get more of a kick out of that. Tonight, I'm dressing up as a Witch (what else) and handing the candy out. Pony will be The Hound of the Baskervilles, running up and down her new yard to scare the crap out of all the trick or treaters. I have this really grisly looking bone for her to chew on. Should be a blast.

And as a treat for you, Gentle Readers, I'll cut off this blog post early.

Sunday, October 21, 2007


Yes, the fish have finally arrived and life as I know it has ended. Anyway, the Fab Five are doing great and have been helping me get my head together and learn some valuable life lessons.

The fishy five were from the local PETCO. We usually don't go to PETCO, but it is the closest pet shop to us and a shorter trip is less stressful to the fish than a long one. I barely slept the night before Mom drove me to the stire to get the fish. She even greeted me with "Happy Fishy Day!"

I decided to save five feeders' lives (SAVE THE FEEDERS) rather than splurge on pedigreed goldfish. You don't get to choose your fish if you want any from the feeder tank, so I let fate and the nice (and cute) PETCO employee dude choose. And he chose well. There are two Comets, two Common goldfish and one undecided. I have no idea what sex any of them are, so I just assign them personal adjectives at random.

They are:
  • Napoleon, the smallest and the leader of the group. About a half inch long, the usual goldfish gold, a Comet and first to figure out everything.

  • Redcap, a pinto colored fish with a bright oprange cap (hense the incredibly original name), a Comet baby about an inch long.

  • Belly, another itty-bitty baby goldie that's just a wee bit bigger than Napoleon, named after the bright silver and usually fatter belly than Napoleon. Since Belly is so small and active, I can't see her tail shape well enough to determine what breed she is (hey, maybe she's a mongrel! So am I!)

  • Twin Comet, the biggest fish, with a honkin' big tail. He is a metallic gold and looks almost identical to

  • Twin Common, who has a smaller tail but othersise looks identical to the other Twin.

I promise not to turn this blog into a repetative journal about my brilliant fish, but I just needed to get all this news out of my system. Back to the usual prattle next week.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Why Atlantis Sank

I have solved the mystery of why Atlantis, the mysterious island that knew everything about everything except that it was going to sink, sunk. I actually have some scientific facts to back me up. In 2000, in Venezula, a multi-national team of scientists discovered the remains of the world's biggest guinea pig. How big? 1500 pounds big. My God, even a Thoroughbred stallion weighs less than that! This guinea pig has been officially christened Phoberomys pattersoni but is known among the scientific community as "Guineazilla".

Guineazilla lived eight million years ago, when Atlantis was most likely not only high and dry, but a lot closer to what is now South America. Atlanteans, with nothing better to do, wandered over to South America, where they find cute little baby Guineazillas who have somehow wandered from Mommyzilla and Daddyzilla. The Atlanteans take them home.

Then the babyzillas grew up.
Under their combined weight, the mighty island sank like, approprately enough, a stone. The grown up Guineazillas, bouyed by their fat, floated leisurely back home to South America.

I'm sure it happened.
But I'd need federal grant money in order to pursue this theory further.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

The Bristol Shubunkin

I collect neat sayings that would make either dynamite book titles or names for show horses. Hopefully, this post will live up to the tilte of "The Bristol Shubunkin", but I kinda doubt it. And what is a Bristol Shubinkin? It's a kind of goldfish developed in Bristol, England (duh) which is hopefully pictured above. Perhaps one day this will be the title of a book of my poems ... if it's not used by Robert Ludlum first.

With the coming of fall, a girl's thoughts naturally turn to ... that's right...


In my last post, I was working on a way to let my Mom allow my Dad to give me his twenty gallon aquarium and stand. (Mom and Dad do not live together anymore -- partially due to aquatic issues just like this). Well, Mom said yes and mentioned something about "keeping me too busy to keep playing those damn Peter Gabriel CDs." Ah, Peter comes through for me again!

So now I have an almost fully equipped aquarium with rocks and plastic plants and a really hyperactive heater (uh-oh) all bubbling away a few feet from my bed. the theory is that not only will I get to relax by watching the fish, I will be able to write articles about my fish keeping experiences and make a little money so I can support this new hobby.

But, as any fish keeper knows, you just can't start an aquarium and plunk the fish in. Oh no. There isn't any benficial bacteria built up yet to support life. It's very much like your intestines -- if there aren't any beneficial bacteria in your guts, then the food can't digest. So, my goldfish tank is kinda like a rectangular water filled gut.


Anyway, the earliest any goldfish can move in is October 15th. This is as bad as waiting for Christmas when I was a kid. In order to keep me from annoying my Mom and to keep out of trouble, I've been a very busy freelance writer. Here are some of the places I contribute regularly to:

* Where We Relax (a blog about relaxing, believe it or not)
* Dealing With Headaches
* My articles on Helium (as soon as I figure out what Helium is, I'll let you know).
* Ghostritten articles galore gathered together in one place in rraven's ghostwritten whispers.