My Birthday, Wow, Blind People and Goats and Lobsters on the Loose

Yeah, it’s my 40th. Hate birthdays because they are generally a disaster, but I am enjoying the benefits of my mid-life crisis with my 11 years junior future child bride, so I have nothing to bitch about. Well, except this fahkin’ test I am taking in T minus 7 days which will be the death of me. For those curious, I expect to be taking it again in February. I simply underestimated the amount of time I would need to study, something Susan has been warning me about for eons. Seriously, 27 damn subjects. Are you kidding me? 6 essay questions, a practical test, and then 200 multi-choice. I will do well on the latter two, but the essays will be the death of me.

Anyway, by way of understanding, on my birthday in the past I have been dumped twice (by the same girl) and had my car stolen. I’ve been beat up, beat someone up, lost my car at a Dead Show, lost my mind at the same show, and suffered a series of other calamities. So, it was no surprise when I logged into Warcraft last night to find that WoW would be down all day today. Of course it will. The one day I set aside to play, and I can’t. Then I get on the net this morning, and one of the first things I see is this:

Um, yeah, thanks Dick. Let me tell you about my goat. When I was a kid I went to my Uncle Dean’s place in Maine. He was uber-rich, although I didn’t know it at the time. He lost his leg as a kid, and my grandparents had a hard time affording prosthetics, so when he got old enough he started working in a prosthetics plant. Anyway, he did really well. At one point someone told me that he owned the largest log cabin in the country to have an indoor pool. Either way, I loved going there because he had a farm of sorts, with pigs, sheep and goats. Somehow we convinced my dad that my brother and I needed a goat, so we got Pepper. Dude, best pet ever. Pepper would walk to the bus stop with us, and while we went to school he would go hang in the corn lots which bordered my house on 2 sides. When we got back he would be waiting for me and we would go play in the sprinklers etc. During the summer he went to camp with us, and pestered folks for Good and Plenty candies, which he had an unwholesome love for.

Anyway, as I grew older and got involved in sports, I spent less time with Pepper, so my Mom, who was a visiting nurse, would take Pepper on her rounds. Anyway, this old blind couple my Mom looked in on took a love to Pepper, so sometimes when we were real busy, Pepper would go stay with the blind people.

Until the day these dipshits tied up Pepper in the kitchen and left the basement door open. Thanks Dicks. So, Pepper died from hanging from some negligent behavior, and I honestly haven’t forgiven those people to this day. So, a big thanks to that douche Alton Brown for bringing up that painful memory first thing this morning. Caro and I are getting a brother or sister for Mosby when we get a house. If Mosby had been a she her name was going to be Pepper Pugglesworth. Anyway, just yesterday Caro torpedoed my idea of getting this Porcupine as a pet, which I thought looked very much like a “Pepper.”

So anyway, if anyone knows where I can get a goat, call me.

On another note, Caro is refusing to make me lobster tonight, on the basis that she didn’t know how to cook it. Which is fine, because she is making her lasagne, which is awesome. But her latest excuse on the lobster cooking (mind you, all you do is boil water and drop them in) is that lobster cooking is clearly a dangerous endeavor, and as proof she offers this:

Category: Pointless blather