Tales from the Id

Out of all the V-day stories I heard last week, this one was my favorite.  Here is the text in its original unedited format, with the addition of graphics à la Ani. The characters are two friends of mine who are engaged.  Enjoy. "BABE LAST NITE I HAD A DREAM THAT SOME GIRL  KISSED ME AND U BEAT HER UP" "THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN IT STARTED RAINING.  BUT IT WAS RAINING INSIDE MY HOUSE AND INSTEAD OF RAIN IT WAS TURTLES." "IT WAS SO WEIRD.  IM SORRY I KISSED THAT GIRL.   SHE KISSED ME AND I RAN AND U CAME IN--"   "AND TURNED INTO A SUPERHERO AND SAVED ME."     Aw. He loves her :) On another note I got a Valentine from Gigas Mus, also recently dubbed Lester, formerly Mr. Stinkerbutt.  We actually have not seen (or heard) head or tail of him in quite some time, so he must have put some forethought into this Valentine.  I discovered it when I took out the garbage on V-day and opened a new bag - there it was: a giant rorschach-esque message skillful

Gonff the Mousethief in Kotir “He [Gonff] was a ducker and weaver of life, a marvelous mimic, ballad writer, singer, and lockpick, and very jovial with it all.” Brian Jacques – June 15, 1939 – February 5, 2011 Brian Jacques started writing Redwall when he was a truck driver delivering milk to the children at the Royal Wavertree School for the Blind.  He would visit with the kids and read to them, but he was unhappy with the selection of books in their library, so he began telling them the tale of Redwall Abbey.  Eventually he wrote the story down and showed it to his old English teacher, who secretly showed it to a publisher.  The rest is history. I discovered Redwall when I was about eight years old, and I ate it up like no other book existed.  Then I read Mossflower and began Mattimeo .  And I was sad because that was all there was.  Or so I thought.  Then one day I was at my friend Christina’s house and her brother Matt opened the doors of Redwall wide.  Well, actually, let’s

This is the Tale of Mr. Stinkerbutt, his sudden transformation into the awful Gigas Mus, and his untimely demise. Once upon a time, in a charming townehouse situated at the outskirts of a large county, there lived four beautiful damsels called Erin, Gina, Meg and Me -- and one squatter called Mr. Stinkerbutt.  For the first few months that the girls occupied the house, they were blissfully unaware of Mr. Stinkerbutt's presence.  Alas such ignorance could not last forever!  One chilly morning in winter, Meghan discovered she was unable to eat her last bagel for breakfast, because Someone Else had devoured it betwixt dusk and dawn, leaving only crumbs in the bag in the closet.  This was our very first introduction to that gluttonous, pilfering soul, Mr. Stinkerbutt. Shortly thereafter, he made a second attack against our closet.  He seemed to favour Meg's shelf, shunning the dried goods on every other shelf, and nommed a giant hole into her loaf of bread. Meg despairingly h

Please welcome Jack and Megan to the bar....

If you happened to be on fb two weeks ago, your news feed may have suffered an overload from one of my statuses (sorry Ian!).  If you missed all the fun though, please enjoy the edited, picture version here (no, I am not going to subject myself to retyping all 83 comments, you'll just have to go back to the status if you want the whole story). Catherine and I created a delightfully fictitious bar, where men are gentleman: they give you their seat and they buy you a drink.  More importantly, they are all gorgeous and famous and rich and heroic.  (Is that too much to ask for?) In the beginning, I said Archie Goodwin should be there.  No sooner had I suggested this than Catherine claimed him in a most selfish manner, stating:  "I get him. Because I knew about him first and because h is long standing girlfriend was a blonde so therefore he'll pick me anyways." ... First I countered with: " GAH. FINE. be that way. but you know Archie had brunettes on the side