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I’m drinking a nice hot cup of senna tea, so the Friday that Nothing Happened may turn into the Saturday the World Fell Out of my Bottom.

(Senna is the active ingredient in Ex-Lax, for those of you too lazy to lean over and type five letters into Google).

I hope your weekend’s not crappy! *hee hee

Caution is advised lest this turn out to be a less than restful weekend.

Is it anything like sassafrass tea?

Oh, it tastes vaguely herb-y. Not bad, but you wouldn’t drink it for taste alone.

If you haven’t seen it, the Star Hood Trek is pretty funny, though I could only catch about half the words and only understood about half of what I caught. Only, shouldn’t that really be “Trek in the Hood” or “Star Hood” or something? “Star Hood Trek” doesn’t parse.

Two words, Sweasel: metamucil.

Japanese Cat Tape Trick. Wherever you put the tape, this cat tries his best to walk away from it.

Lest the cruelty of attaching tape to a cat get you down, here’s a Japanese cat who loves having tape stuck to him. Listen early on for the narrator to say “scottis foldo”. Heh.

No worries, Gnus. I followed with a couple of cups of good strong coffee this morning, and I’m officially clean as a whistle. Tweet.

Bran cereal every morning. That’s the secret to staying in a good mood.

You’re first comment reminded me of a money making idea that I had. I’m going to share it with you here. One could go to a campground with marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate ex-lax. One could then make those things that some people call ‘smores’ and sell them quite cheaply. After selling them, one could sell rolls of toilet paper quite dearly. Sure, it’s not exactly ethical but what business practices are?

I don’t think the ex-lax would be necessary. My cousin and I decided to recreate the miracle of s’mores some years ago. We made them just the way I remember, over an open camp fire and everything, and they were vile. Sick-making. Vomitous. Couldn’t choke a whole one down. Don’t ask me what the difference was, but the kids couldn’t stand them, either.

On the other hand, my stepfather spent a few days in jail on a marijuana possession charge in the late ’60s, and on his last morning in, his fellow inmates put ex-lax in his coffee.

Okay, that’s all the memories THAT comment triggered.

Oh, and winston sent me this link: 62 little known uses of vinegar, apparently under the apprehension that there will be a Very Great Deal of vinegar in my future, if I move to England.

Very thoughtful, and very odd. Two fine qualities in a minion.

While it’s nice to know that vinegar is effective in treating yeast infections, I could have learned that without the full color magnified cheesey vajayjay photo. #32 if you just have to look. I don’t recommend it.

I was hoping that was some kind of pink granite cave formation, frankly.

I went to Carlsbad Caverns when I was six. That was very cool. I remember the “bacon and egg” formations. And the pool that looked eight inches deep but was really eight feet. And when they turned the lights out one mile down. And the boots of the guy who got lost in 18-something.

So pink granite encrusted with quartz doesn’t seem all that far fetched.

Where has Weasel’s constipation gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flatulence gone?
That made his house smell so?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Burrito farts killed every one
When will he ever learn?
When will he ever learn?

You see, I got nuthin’ except a desire to help… really, but I can’t. I guess it’s because I’ve been to the Washington zoo and I’ve been to Luray caverns, and heard the The Great Stalactite Organ. It changes a man. Never had a Smores…Girlscouting was out of fashion for boys of my generation. I have put malt vinegar on my french fries at county fairs, a peculiar if tasty culinary display of fetishism which the carny’s blamed on England. I believe that Smores are, however, a purely American perversion. I do retain a soft spot in my stomach for marshmellows toasted on a fresh green stick over an open fire. Tasty, that, and doesn’t interfere with the flavor of the whiskey.

You can’t make smores on the east coast. It’s too humid. The graham crackers have to snap! The marshmallows have to be golden brown, not burnt. You hold them near the fire until they just start to show steam and then you pull them back. You can’t use too much chocolate, two squares are enough. And you MUST bring cold milk. We go camping quite a bit and nobody can makes smores like my hubby.

nobody can make smores like my hubby (I iz not lol cat)

S’mores over an open fire? Who ever heard of such barbarism. A microwave works perfectly well, you just have to use caution so as not to explode your ‘mallow 🙂

And yes, s’mores are distinctly American. And it’s very hard to explain to Kiwis and Aussies what a s’more is since they don’t have graham crackers and they don’t have the right kind of marshmallows.

Heh. My beloved just asked me what the hell a graham cracker is. How do you explain? I said (and I believed) they were invented by a doctor named Graham to help alcoholics off the sauce, but wikipedia says they were invented by a minister named Graham to cool all sorts of passions.

Near as we can figure it, the closest British equivalent is the digestive biscuit, which I am told is sweet. I’d have to taste one to know, of course.

Heh.

Health lecturer Sylvester Graham (1794-1851) was trying to save shattered lives–not just of women, but everybody who suffered from what Graham referred to variously as “venereal excess” or “aching sensibility.” Graham thought intense physical desire, no matter how expressed and regardless of whether you were married or not, was guaranteed to have dire physiological consequences.

A forebear of the hairy-palms-and-blindness school of moral instruction, Graham said excessive carnal exercise would cause indigestion, headache, feebleness of circulation, pulmonary consumption, spinal diseases, epilepsy, insanity, and early death of offspring, among other things. He thought men should remain virgins until age 30 and then should make love only once a month–not at all if they were sickly.

Damn! Doomed from the start. I was never a virginian, much less stay there until 30.

I have been there though. What little I saw was hilly. Mountains, even, but pretty.

Dan Riehl linked to these cool photographs of Weston State Hospital. I got to clicking around the site, which is about preserving architecture through photography. School for the mentally handicapped, prison hospital, Tennessee state prison. I love this kind of urban exploration stuff, of which there is much on the internet.

Gnus found a fun military motivational poster blog.

Shoot, Gnus…are you sending these to me because I never answered your question about putting links in comments here? Yes, it’s the standard method:

<a href=”http://www.yoururlhere.com”>Text You Want Underlined</a>

(bearing in mind that I got it to show the angle brackets using weasel magic). I’d hate to slow down the free flow of deer butt goodness.

Actually, I kinda hate to be a threadjacker, but now that you’ve revealed a teensy bit of weasel magic, I can stick ’em in comments, I suppose. Prolly easier than Hotmail’s weirdness. ‘Sides, threads hereabouts usually come home from wandering.

I love it when comment threads go flying off someplace weird and stupid (though you’re welcome to send me stuff if you’d rather). These Friday things don’t even have a topic; it’s just someplace for me to stick things over the weekend. Like this:

I’m getting good at rescuing my cats’ victims. This one is Charlotte’s. Neither one of them is a very good deal closer.

Lousy picture, but this little tweeter was seriously scared and squirmy and I didn’t want to hold him any longer than I had to. I threw a tea towel over him scooped him up and whisked him out back. He flew off strongly; I think he’ll make it (unless he got a big dose of cat-mouth bacteria).

Poor Charlotte spent the rest of the day staring under the chair where she last saw him.

Sweasel, closest thing I’ve come to down here are wine biscuits. They’re a bit more sweet than graham crackers are, and completely the wrong shape but they do get the point across. The other option is to have your dear, loving mum send you some in a box so that you can share w/ all the scary foreigners 🙂