Spilled Drink

boob 2noun (usu. boobs) informala woman's breast.

Today The Princess and I took a brief break from our labors to go get a snack from the vending machines. After much deliberation, I finally decided on chocolate milk, and The Princess got a soda and peanut M&Ms. When we sat down at the cafeteria table I challenged The Princess if she could toss one of her peanut M&Ms into my chocolate milk from the distance of five feet. She perked up and began practicing her toss. In mid-practice she just reached over the table as far as she could and placed the M&M into my chocolate milk, but in the process she knocked over her soda. She began laughing.

"Are you laughing because you think you fooled me?" I asked. "I certainly expected you to do that."

"No," The Princess said, "I'm laughing because it was my boobs that knocked over the soda." She had a big smile on her face, and it was then that I noticed that this whole scene had justified the size of her breasts in some way.

The Monster D-Bag Extavaganza

hiatus |hīˈātəs|noun ( pl. -tuses ) [usu. in sing. ]a pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process : there was a brief hiatus in the war with France.

It's been quite some time since my last update. Over the course of two months I've learned that there are more than a few people who actually check this thing from time to time, and I have been razzed and encouraged more than once to update it more frequently. The Lonely Scribe appreciates this. I'm truly thankful for the support and glad people get a kick out of these scribbles. The Princess, however, has pretty much written me off. She's quite angry with me because, you see, The Princess is a star. She feels she's owed a spot light. And I certainly haven't told you near enough about Rosencrantz. The Princess will be frustrated to share the billing. Even now, as she reads this, she is most likely thinking, "why is this not about me only?" Anyway, I've been reviewing some of my notes in order to post this update.

One day The Princess asked me if I had any chocolate. I said, "no, but I have a taco." She then asked me if it was a "choco taco" which apparently is a chocolate taco? I don't know. I told her, "no". The Princess then told me that I become "more of a disappointment every day." I thought to myself, "I'm sorry I don't keep chocolate tacos on hand."

Here's another quote which is probably best left out of context: "I'm surprised you're even able to feed yourself." Sometimes when The Princess talks to me I picture an angry teenage girl, with braces, strangling her doll, yelling at her little brother.

I also told her that I invented a sandwich called The Monster D-Bag Extravaganza. When she asked me how to make it I told her that it consisted of bread, meat, and cheese. She was not happy with me.

It's sad to say that this is all I came away with from my two month hiatus. Some friends have been nice enough to employ monthly goals. In the month of January, for example, I was expected to make twelve entries. That did not happen. I didn't make one. We had all just spun out of 2009. The air rushed into our nostrils for warmth and froze our bones. Call it an existential hiccup? The Princess has told me repeatedly that I should just update as soon as something of note presents itself. "Don't think about it," she says. "Just write it down." But I don't. It's hard to say what keeps me from being consistent. I'd like to say I'm a perfectionist, but I know I'm not. Speaking of existential hiccups. Last Saturday I cleaned my apartment for the first time in a few months. I told The Princess and my friend Rosencrantz that the bathroom's odor was remarkably similar to an opened can of Vienna Sausages. They recoiled in disgust and called me insane. But I think the real question here is why do Vienna Sausages smell like a neglected bathroom? It puzzles the mind.