Nuts

A monkey ate my nuts. My fault, really. I left them in a jar next to the bed with the window open.

I'm thinking of buying a shoe box to keep my nuts in but nobody sells 'em — you got to buy shoes and then they let you take home a box, but I never did like that system none. I just want a box for my nuts and screw the shoes — who needs them things anyway when you got good boxes?

I used to hang with a hamster gang until I outgrew the clubhouse, not to mention the effects of my seeds and nuts allergy.

If I were a hamster, I'd be too big for my skin, and no fur. What's a hamster without fur? Just another naked guy running through the parking lot, I guess, trying to hang on to his nuts.

Guess what I have in my pocket? At least try. I'm clueless. Maybe you'll come close. But maybe not too close. Whatever it is, it seems to have nippers on one end. Might have some eyes too — hard to say from here. Meanwhile I'll hum a happy tune and hope that it doesn't try grabbing me by the nuts. With one of those nippers or whatever.

Fur. Hard to come by on short notice, and when you need it, well, you need it. In case you're wondering, that's what all that squirrel chasing was about, yesterday. Sometimes it's just for fun, so I take my clothes off when I go after their nuts. Seems more fair that way.

If squirrels eat nuts then what happens if I eat a squirrel and thereby achieve my revenge? Eh? Am I nuts?

Left-handed nuts. None on Craigslist any more.

Harvey Crabnuts is my name, and I'm all in for nut butter. I'll walk sideways down any street to get some. My nippers clacking in anticipation.

Fraunhofer lines are of course a thing, but generally I still prefer plain old string. Even mention catnip and I totally go nuts.

Buck nuts.

Fuzzy nut rolls. Not yet a thing either.

And if December has been banned, summer will just arrive that much earlier, I bet, and the nuts will thusly fall sooner.

It's summer in the southern hemisphere and my nuts are already aching from the strain.

Not sure about you but I'm hoping for a bumper nut crop this year. Nothing better than bumper nuts. Nothing.

 

---

Comments? Send email to hoofist@nullabigmail.com

See if that helps.

Eeeps Doings

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, and, in fact, the entire Eeeps Family will be gathering soon at their traditional clearing deep in the forest (at midnight) to roast beasts and then have feasts. I am, of course, invited as always, to come as an observer and also to watch over the firefighting equipment, and to toot the emergency tooter if needed, though I may once again remain in hiding under my bed, on an undisclosed continent. #DatesToRemember

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, had another dog follow her back to the shack — happens every time she finds a decent pile of road kill and drags it back with her down the long road home — but she eats good, that gal does, and I like her a lot for that. Not every woman can skin a buck with her teeth.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, got a new Jeep. She lost the old one at the flea market. The bugs drove off with it, I think. They seemed to like the smell. And the horn. There was quite a lot of tootling going on over toward the AWD compound where the passphrase seemed to be "Beep a Jeep". Then it was Bug-B-Gone time, and there too went her favorite vehicle. Though now, of course, she's all smiles again, and shiny new mud flaps.

My Love, Echinoia Eeeps, gave me an Xmas gift. The tag says "Do not open until 3276", and I can't hardly wait. Seriously. I have to pee. And she'll pound me if I make any sudden moves.

My Love, Echinoia Eeeps, is a thrill seeker, she is. She uses them for fish bait. She doesn't eat fish, only baits them. Pisses them off to no end. Fish are without humor, did you notice? Good thing she's allergic to water, which is probably why she never bathes, and also that so few fish around here can run fast enough to catch her. My gal Echinoia. Yep.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, said she no longer, for her birthday, wants beets. A new development, this.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, sent me a card for my birthday. She said the words for it will come maybe next week if she can remember who I am.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, sent me a bag of fur for my birthday. Said the cat will be along soon too, if she has time to reassemble it.

Spent Sunday with the Eeeps family, eating beets at the beach in a cave. They know the meaning of fun, they. One of the meanings.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, is now collecting dots. Has boxes full already. Next up, polka lessons, I guess.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, has a new brother. Named him Gerbil. Got him cheap at the petting zoo after he died in custody.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, started a new band — The Eeeping Beepers. They're into Gleep Rock. All new to me, I swear. I only know how to shuffle and mumble.

I'm on pins and needles. My love, Echinoia Eeeps, likes to watch squirming. Usually it's worms but today it's my turn.

My love, Echinoia Eeeps, will be starring in a new reality show: "Eeeps Family Doings". But it's not that real. Neither is she at times. #PhantomEeepings

My love Echinoia Eeeps is in bed with a case of beeps. She can't quit. I only like the chocolate-covered ones. The others give me the creeps.

Am due to have Easter dinner with the Eeeps family. They're crucifying a whole sheep this year. Then it's off to Bulgaria for desert.

Going to start spending some time with the Eeeps family. They just dug themselves a new burrow on the edge of town and Echinoia wants me there for the fumigation ceremony. #SeemsUrgentForSomeReason

---

Comments? Send email to hoofist@nullabigmail.com It may or may not help.

Near Depth Experiences

The snarl of twin turbo diesels heralds the start of hiding season. For me anyway, having previously experienced what Leslie Zeppelin can do. (You know, the strafing and all.)

Yes, I have experience. In fact, I'm especially adept at tuna tickling, something that has come in handy several times this month, to be perfectly honest about it.

So today it's "lomito criollo". I'll try the pollo next time, or is that polio? Either way, lunch. Always an experience.

I quit being a Christian when they stopped eating babies. Maybe your church was more fun. Experience tells.

Speaking of urp, I'm seeing a lot of clouds lately that remind me of significant culinary milestones I've experienced while leaning over.

Fish lips: Talk your way through the experience. Extra points for re-emerging unscaled. (Unscaled? Unscathed? What's life worth without scathes anyway?)

Had a recent out-of-body experience involving a hot shower. Took me the better part of an hour to get back inside my skin. #I'mWrinklyNowToo

Mr Hamster Bites A Nut

Infinity is a nice concept, but hard to teach to a hamster. I know, I've tried. Got bit. (They're short on patience too.)

Ever tried hamster wrestling? I got beat six-zero yesterday — could use some tips if you gottem.

I have to sit in the corner today because I've been bad. So very, very bad. Or else it's because I got here late and all the other tables were taken. I'll have to think about it for a while. Maybe an answer will come to me. Maybe not. Maybe I should embark on a life of crime. I could become a pirate. Pirates are cool. Instead of carrying a parrot on my shoulder I could have a hamster in my shirt pocket. I could name him "Bob". "Bob the Terrible". Bob would look good with an eye patch. I wear glasses so that wouldn't work for me, but Bob — Bob could pull it off. I'm sure of that. I could train Bob to squeak on cue, fearsomely. Fearsome Bob and his squeaky squeak. That would do it. All the pieces are beginning to fall into place now — my pirate costume, my fearsome pocket pet, a life of crime, and adventure, and — wait — I'll have to get back to this later. My soup just arrived. Mmmmm.

I craved something sweet so I asked my hamster for a kiss, but was overwhelmed by his peanut breath. Anyway, he's a boy. Like yuk. (But don't tell him or it will hurt his tiny feelings.)

I sold all your underwear while you were at work and bought a hamster with the profit, so you'll have to get used to that tickly feeling. His name is Ed. At least that's what he told me. Hope you don't mind.

Teleportation - it will be the new thing, for sure. I tested my new gizmo on Ed. He's my hamster. Sent him across the room at around 163.7265 miles per hour. Came to a sudden stop during a wall encounter incident, which may indicate a limit to this device's usefulness in urban settings. Plus the mess.

Did you know that the World Bank is run by a small hamster named Ed? Has lots of worlds in it too. Good boy, Ed. (He likes a variety of places to poop.)

Had a nice talk with Irving, over lunch. He's a hamster. Where I get all my financial and vegetable advice.

Clams in a can — I guess they don't mind too much, being clams. Unlike Irving, my hamster — very wary little fellow he is, can-wise.

Fran is pretty happy about what I've done lately, which is to leave her alone. (I have a hamster now. And like her, he bites, but never gets whiny about how I taste.)

That music always reminds me of something, possibly also music, or wet hamsters. I like hamsters. Sometimes they hum when wet. And so on.

First my ant died, and then I saw Mr Hamster doing odd things in the garden by moonlight. He's my landlord. Doesn't say much. Likes to munch nuts.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that I forgot to remove my hamster costume. Clarissa gets over-excited when this happens. I wish I knew who she was.

Nails

I have a nail in my pocket. In one pocket. I don't know about the others because I'm afraid to look. Is this normal?

Toenail soup is never going to be my favorite but the waitress here has really cute antlers.

If a stranger asks you, politely, for your fingernail clippings, it possibly isn't me, unless I ran out before the end of the month.

What doesn't go with fruit? Nails.

I nailed a handful of jam to the wall. Last year. It's still there. Wall fell down last week though. Now I have fleas.

Nail fraud. Not a thing yet. Good time to invest.

I sing for thee, O Tammy, whoever you are. (BTW, I have your toenails in a box under my refrigerator.)

Pants, The Essential Accessory

My pants are not on fire today. That's a personal best. Next, I work on the cat hair sticking to my tongue.

I used to wander around with a hamster in my pants pocket until I found out it was in there. I'm smarter now, but lonelier.

Mom said I should talk to you about something, but before I ask what it might be I'll wait and see if you want to check out that pants fire you seem to have going on.

There was a clump of hair on the street. I never pass a clump of hair without at least a second look. However, when I stooped to scoop it up, it scuttled away. Ran right up a man's pants and disappeared under his morning coat. What happened after that will have to remain in strictest confidence.

Pets on parade. Mine is the yellow slime crawling up that guy's pants.

CatzenDogs

A stray cat followed me home. I think I'll call him Ben. Ben there, ate that — the neighbor's cat, the neighbor's dog, the neighbors, and so on. Has real pretty eyes. Watches everything I do.

Had a fair first day wearing my chicken suit around town, except while washing up in the neighbor's back yard after the "noodle incident". He came out all red and flustered, said I was scaring the sparrows — but isn't it a bird bath? Some people don't get it, do they?

My sister adopted yet another stray cat. This one is named Clive. Used to be a don out by Oxford country. Knows a lot about medieval metallurgy. Partial to tuna and leftover dog food.

How did cat hair get onto my tongue?

So, today is the 10th of my favorite month, Francesca, named after my favorite drink, el Agua del Gato Negro (water of the black cat), which has some significance in the local culture, which is Andalusian-German-Senegalise, and for some reason has Castellano as its native language. All a mystery to me, but I am clueless in so many ways that I am seldom surprised by anything anymore, though frequently startled by such things as shoelaces, toothpicks, and the mystery of Fernando Poo.

Today I was approached by a beak. It was running away from a bird — something about unfulfilled expectations and irreconcilable differences. I gave it to the cat. He's always wanted to fly. This might be a good start. Who can say? He looks good with it, but really should try in on his front end, is my opinion on the subject.

Today I was approached by a beak. It was running away from a bird. Said it was tired of being called a pecker. And prone to airsickness. I had crackers and cheese for lunch. My new pecker had worms. We might be friends.

I bought a bag of hair last week. It's the kind of thing that when you need it, you need it — right now. So anyhow, I'm prepared for the worst, though the cat is suspicious, as usual. The two of us need to have another talk.

I once had a hamster who wanted a law degree but after he ate the cat I convinced him to go into showbiz. Now he manages Arnold Schwarzenegger. Good move, Squeaky.

Cold, Or Maybe Hot.

Sometimes it's Wednesday again.

Crabs don't keep pets.

Dogs don't wear knickers.

Colleges don't sell trucks.

I don't smell good.

Sometimes I'm not, well, well.

I caught a cold today. First time ever. Used the kid next door for bait.

Mondays are good nap times.

It's Monday again. Mondays are quite pleasant when you're not working. I'm not working. I have a cold. When it's all over I still won't be working, so it's about a wash in that direction. Time for lunch and then a nap. After that I'll ask the cat what to do next. Sometimes I get an answer, but understanding is the real issue. The effort makes me tired again, so I often follow up my nap with another nap. Every now and then things seem to be complicated, but if so I have another nap, and then a nice snack stolen from the catfood cupboard. That puts things into perspective, at least for me. You may prefer fish food. Who can say? Nap on it.

Tactical conversation, a play in eight lines, in case I counted right this time.

March frosts.

Tiny watts.

Fresh bots.

Slimy knots.

Harvard thoughts.

Hamburger ramifications.

Tofu fortifications.

Pickle tuners, rejoice, etc!

Lonesome Cowboy

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, roaming empty streets, keeping one eye open for chewing gum wrappers.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, untethered and yet available for lunch dates Tue-Thur during windy weeks in March if my pants are freshly pressed. (Or sometimes August).

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, at home on the streets, sleeping in alleys, alone among stray cats and unwashed rats under darkened skies empty of hope. (Could be why I fart so much.) (Or the other way around.)

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, bereft of horse or saddle, or six-shooter. Only my boots are left, and a battered hat, while I wait for inspiration or a stray $10 bill, whatever you can provide.

I am the Lonesome Cowboy, still searching for that silver lining among wind-shredded clouds, between torrents of blowing rain and night-shivers. Searching, searching and waiting, here, all night, with just my small teddy bear, the only friend I've ever had, left.

Vans

Random vandals.

The snarl of twin turbo diesels heralds the approach, yet one more time, of Leslie Zeppelin. I wish Mom was here to be terrified of this, because, frankly, I'm tired of it. Now please excuse me while I vanish into my secret underground bunker.

Ice stars. I saw some last night. They wear skates and burn with a cold sweet beauty. Vanilla is my favorite is vanilla.

Engrossed with personal affairs I forgot who I am. -- Janwillem van de Wetering

Van sauce.

First I dream my painting, then I paint my dream. -- Vincent van Gogh

The snarl of twin turbo diesels stops me mid-bite. But the snarl is not overhead. It comes from a Zeppelin Brothers moving van. But just who is that driving?

Frantic boiling air tuna shoals. A vague, dark skyward unease. The faint snarling rumble of twin turbo diesels. Neck hairs tingle. Leslie Zeppelin, back, is back. I duck. I run.

Parting the 5 a.m. curtains chills my blood. The street is taken by a Zeppelin Brothers van, its twin turbo diesels snarling, even at idle. The sky, however is clear, and I am safe for now, I hope.

Belonging In Place

If you fall, you must use the ground to help you rise again. — Buddhist proverb

When those whom we trust completely betray os or do something else totally unexpected, they have given us a great teaching. — Buddhist quote

He was a first chair meditator at the NBC Radio City Buddhist Hall.

Two women just walked in. I think they're women. How many legs do women have these days? Anyhow, I lost count, but the soup has arrived, on time.

Leslie is a man's name in some parts. I'm not from there, so you can call me Joe. I have a dog, also Joe. My wife says her name is Marianne but I call her Joe for short. We get along pretty good but she's kinda snippy sometimes, mostly about her name. She don't like Joe (the name, not the dog). Joe the dog is fine, it's me she gets mad at. So she got a tattoo and whenever she's feeling ornery she pulls down her pants and points to it on her butt. It says "My name's not Joe, you twit." Then we usually have lunch. Life is OK in spots.

National Council of Female Women

Religion is for those who are afraid of hell. Spirituality is for those who have been there. — resident of a halfway house

Wherever I go, whenever, I carry that little tin of bacon. Women are rendered speechless. When did you ever reach such heights on charm alone?

If you find a fork in the road, and take it, are you still entitled to a free lunch?

Cars Again

Found a Leaf in my soup. It is apparently rewards day here at the eatery, and I won the electric car. Want to help me lick off the minestrone?

Woman in car. Snakes for teeth. Doesn't look like my type. Still - that smile.

Went out to drive to work, when I observed my car to be entirely filled with hamsters. No probs - I'm retired now and need some amusement.

Scooter got drunk last night and raised hell all over town. Had to drag him home behind the car. Never let your rat near booze.

Cats never go flat. Unless a car is involved. They're poor drivers too.

A hamster followed me home. I think. How big are they? It ripped open the neighbor's car to get a Snickers bar. May keep him.

Saw Dad running down the street, chasing cars. He thinks he's a dog, but he's actually dead, OK? #AmusingMomentsOfTheDeceased

I bought a car yesterday. It's got two wheels up front. Don't know about the back. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, as Mom always said. I don't never fix nothin anyways.

Crocodile ate my car. Happens every Thursday, about 1 p.m., right in this here parking lot.

Smudge

In a classroom...

I am small for my age, and might pass, if enough of the children also have beards, and don't giggle at my gray nose hairs.

Sitting to the rear I would hardly be noticed, no more than a blurry darkness would, behind the last row, way at the back along the wall.

I am naturally overlooked. Often, it seems, others even try to walk through me. This was amusing at one time, but I would prefer invisibility if possible, or to be smoke.

"I didn't see you." "I thought I saw something, but I didn't know you were real." "Sorry." That's all I get out of it.

I am very much like my cousin Vague Smudge, another quiet one, and like his siblings, but without the glamour of an interesting name. I'm only this guy, a guy often ignored, dismissed out of hand, never seen for what I am.

"Which is what?" I often wonder, and still do not know, so generally pretty usually, I keep to myself and look for small private amusements, and then carry on. What else is there?

Surgery, Etc.

I'm recovering from death surgery. Soon to be a worldwide fad. I'm sure of it.

I'm here to see the eye doctor. His name is Butch. He used to wrestle wild boars and ride broncos in the arena. Maybe fought some Christians too, at least the more aggressive or foolhardy ones, but it didn't pay as well as doing eye surgery and his hands got too callused - doing needlepoint in his free time between hog wrestles and swordplay became a frustrating exercise in crudity, so here I am and here he is. Just for old-times' sake he challenges me to best-of-three arm wrestling, then we knock back a few beers and chase the cat around the office. It's a Siberian tiger, so some days it chases him. After that it's lunch, watch a movie, and maybe take a nap or engage in a bit of light gardening. Then I get a new set of eyeballs and I'm on my way again - all set for another six months. Mom likes him too, and you can't say that about just anybody, so I feel pretty lucky.

Cosmic surgery. Vast and half-vast. Take your pick.

Cleptomania Tootleprong's Bug Walking Service. Recently seen on a leaf (underside only).

I also own an out-of-body shop. (True!)

Recent Thoughts, February 13

The attorney approached the bench. Then the players whacked him with their sticks. #LegalHockey #PuckingAround

Foot whacker. See other footnotes. (Coming soon to a footnotery near you, or one of your relatives.)

The folks in the kitchen are busily hacking things up. Hmm - not that many people sitting at tables any more. Now they're all eyeing me and smiling.

I got whacked in school once for farting the "Star-Spangled Banner". They said I'd become a fire hazard. No respect for talent.

Recent Thoughts, January 18

1. If I buy a car will I have to own it too? How long until they catch me? Thursday?

2. Went out to drive to work, when I observed my car to be entirely filled with hamsters. No probs - I'm retired now and need some amusement.

3. Cats never go flat. Unless a car is involved. And a poor driver.

4. A hamster followed me home. I think. How big are they? It ripped open the neighbor's car to get a Snickers bar. Thinking of keeping him.

5. I bought a car yesterday. It's got two wheels up front. Don't know about the back. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I say. I don't never fix nothin anyways.

Recent Thoughts, January 4

1. I am the Disappointed Cowboy, walking the darkened empty streets of Lonelytown in my pajamas, collecting fallen leaves.

2. I tried walking around on stilts but it's hard to sniff crotches that way. #DogsLife-NotAllGravy

3. I saw a fish walking a dog. Which wasn't that unusual, except that the dog was walking a cat while wearing a toupee (beige), and cats hate phonies.

4. I saw a woman walking outside. I didn't know they still did that around here. Been inside for a while.