Smutto

Text Twist says that “smutto” isn’t a word.  It totally should be.  I think as a name it would work with with the face that I use as an icon.

You know how when you were a kid and you were scared of the dark?  Closets, under beds, basements, dark rooms.  Obviously, all places perfect for monsters to ensconce themselves in.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why dogs, Leika in particular, is deathly afraid of the vacuum cleaner but has no fear of cars, trucks, dump trucks, semis or buses.

As I was cleaning up today she was trying to find a hiding spot from the dreaded monster Va Kum, Razer of the Great Canine Civilization, apparently.  And eventually, after fighting the temptation to chase her around the apartment with it, I succumbed to my better nature and put it in the closet by the front door.

Is that door the gateway to hell in her doggy mind?  A portal to the world of the Va Kum where roaring one eyed doomsday howling demons live?

[days later]

Aw crap!  I totally missed NaNoWriMo.  How do I miss a whole month of something?  Feh.

We got out of work early on Wednesday.  I walked to the White House. They’re building temporary structures and risers for the inauguration.  Then I walked to the National mall and stopped by the newly renovated American History Museum  Swanky.  The lobby is translucent.  It’s quite a sight.

I was surprised to see as many “tourists” as I did for this time of year but I enjoy tourists.

Oh lovely.  I’ve ruined yet another steak.  Came close, though.

I’ve made a new friend — the elliptical machine. It is awesome.  It seems like you get more of a workout than you feel like you’re getting.  I like that feeling of stepping off of it and my legs are a little wobbly.  And yet my heart rate is never particularly high.  That leaves a lot of room for intervals and such.

Not like when I jog on the treadmill, which I haven’t done in a long time because I’m too dang heavy for it these days.  Too rough on the knees and achilles tendons for now.  I’m basically trying to get in shape to improve my mtn biking performance.

Should have gone yesterday.  It was warm enough and beautiful out.  But I’ve been cloistered in my apartment ever since I got back from B-more on Thursday night.  Ridiculous.  And yet relaxing.  Just being here with some time to spare eventually led to assembling a bookshelf, which led to more surfaces for all this paper and mail, which led to stacking plastic bins, which led to floor space, which led to my being able to reach the other floor lamp and turn it on, which led to vacuuming, which led to moving the junk off of the Ab Lounge Ultra, which led to my sitting on it in front of the TV waching “The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers” in a much more livable space.

By the way, is it just me or is Peter Jackson not the best director?  What’s with all of the slo-mo reaction shots?  It’s like … emotion = slow motion?

Why am I writing this?  It’s so not interesting.  Eh.  I just feel like writing.  Sometimes you feel like writing even though you have nothing to say.  So if you made it this far I have a little treat for you.   Enjoy.

Could that get any more random?  It’s like the gods are playing Mad Libs.

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