Translations

I live in some sort of different world I guess, but I like it here. The food’s good and the people are mostly friendly. It doesn’t come with basic cable though.

I recently had a good burger at Fuddrucker’s. I hadn’t been there since 1990. I shouldn’t wait 17 years to go again.

I go to fried chicken places about once a decade. It just never occurs to me to go get fried chicken.

I went to Pizza Hut a few weeks ago. I hadn’t been since the 80s. I’m not kidding.

And tonight we went to Olive Garden, where I haven’t been in years. MOBB loves it, and you know, sometimes, no matter how you feel, you’ve just gotta break down and do what your spouse really wants. (Go ahead and joke, wives)

And as we left, I must say that listening to MOBB explain to Wolfboy that what he had for dessert was called “mousse” was simply hysterical.

“It lived in the forest??” he asked.

She wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the clarifications, leaving just enough wiggle room for him to conclude that his tasty treat had once grown horns.

***

Saw some clients today, and my Spanish just wasn’t clicking. I did okay, not great.

***

Sometimes I can’t sit still. Okay, often I can’t sit still. I wasn’t always like this, was I? I don’t know what it means.

***

The Yankees have lost two games to the Indians. All is right with the world.

***

Wolfboy hums when he’s enjoying a good meal. It’s a distinctive little sound. I’m glad I’m not the only person in the family with idiosyncrasies.

***

THEGIRL just emerged from the bedroom. “[Wolfboy] do that!”
MOBB: “Did what?”

THEGIRL: “Do that!”

MOBB: “What did he do? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

THEGIRL (growling, running back into the bedroom): “[Wolfboy!]”

***

I felt good today. I felt alive, sharp, confident. I felt like the biggest, smartest, best-looking guy in the room. I’m not used to that. It’s a recent thing. I like it.

***

One of my idiosyncrasies has a very clear meaning: When I clap my hands, it means “let’s go.” It’s not intentional, but I catch myself doing it.

***

Big changes coming. I’m not going into it here until the details are sorted out.

***

When we first got Copycat, way back in the early 90s, sometimes Oreo would try to jump her bones.

Now, they’d both been fixed, but that didn’t stop Oreo. He’d come up behind her and bite her on the neck and just… wait. I guess he was waiting for his equipment to do something. Copycat mostly looked puzzled and complained a little bit (again, wives, go ahead and make your jokes).

Finally Oreo would let go and walk away, grumbling in cat-speak.

Translation: “One of these days I’m gonna…”

***

I can barely sit still, even now. I have these flashes: “Get up! Go running! Go to the mall! Move move move!”

I have got to ramp it down.

***

This is, I believe, post 996.

For post 1000, I am turning it over to you. I say this now just in case you need time to think.

I will solicit input from anyone who reads this for post 1000. I will ask that you email me something to put in the blog. Anecdotes, jokes, meaningless stuff, philosophical treatises, whatever. If you wish to make some reference to a memory we share or something you’ve enjoyed here on this site, that’s cool, but my intention isn’t to ask for “why do you like BB” emails. I run with a sharp bunch of folks, some of whom blog and some of whom don’t. I want to hear from you, however you wish to contribute.

Bruiser, feel free to write that list of 1000 songs we’ve all gotta hear if you want.

Anyway, just keep that in mind, and in a few days I’ll officially solicit your input.

***

However, there are some things I won’t tolerate. Don’t write anything that’s a waste of my time or yours. I am an intelligent man who does not suffer fools gladly.

Translation: Do not try to provoke me.

***

(Sorry to end on that note. Every rule is reactionary, folks.)