A Tale of Mystee-ry and Indigo Intrigue

His day started pretty much the same as any other day. He roused himself from a deep sleep around 7am, sat up, took his pills and checked his blood sugar. Quietly, he pulled on his pajama bottoms and tip toes out of the bedroom, making his way downstairs to the family room.

He opened his computer and powered up and flicked on the television and clicked the remote until he landed on the all news channel.

He checked his blog comments and scrolled through Facebook, then played a game or two of solitaire on his laptop.

His wife arose - sleeping-in a bit because she was on holidays - stepped to the kitchen and made them a wonderful breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and bagels.

Neither was aware of the sense of foreboding that was building. Or the five or six boding, for that matter.

After breakfast, he cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and dinner the night before, emptied the dishwasher and then told his wife, "I'm going to take my shower." Unheard by either of them a Hitchcockian soundtrack started up, accompanying his undressing, his turning on of the water and the beginning of his soaping up. And then he farted. Did you ever fart in the shower? It kinda kills the moment. He quickly rinsed off, stepped out, towelled off, combed his hair brushed his teeth and stepped into his underwear and summer shorts.

All of a sudden that soundtrack started up again and it made him hesitate as he reached for the closet door. A voice in his mind said, "Don't open that door, don't open that door...and then like all horror movies he'd ever seen, he did.

Oh my God, he was nearly out of t-shirts. T-shirts, you see, formed the bulk of his wardrobe other than golf and Hawaiian shirts. He stepped back out of the closet in shock. He had no special plans that day so he found an old Ragged Ass Road - Northwest Territories tee and slipped into it. That's the logo on the shirt, not the condition it's in.

And then a miracle occurred. While in the shower his wife had checked the mail. Talk about coincidence, there was a package addressed to him. And in the package was...

...a gift from his blogging buddy Indigo Roth, all the way from Jolly Old England. He thought maybe Indigo was so moved by the birth of Prince George he sent tees he'd designed to folks all over the world. Thanks, Indigo, he said to himself, what a great guy...and so talented too.

On the tee Indigo had drawn a Sharp Dressed Cat. And he mused to himself, "Now I will be too."

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! ...

Hello Goodbye

Today a bit of a reflective piece. Rather than being funny, this is about the funny. It's a day of mixed emotion at nonamedufus . You see, after several months of inactivity I've dropped a couple of former blogger buddies off my blog roll. I kept hanging on and hanging on hoping they'd return to active blogging but, alas, after waiting in one case five months I've decided to let them go. I'm going to miss - going to? I have been missing - Margo at the Screaming Me-Me . She was one funny lady. From time to time she and I would engage in a feud or two for several days at a time but it was all in fun both for us and, I think, for our readers. And we'd leave each other funny comments, poking fun at each other. I miss her friendship and our humorous exchanges. The other blogger I'm letting go is Chelle, The Offended Blogger . Chelle was a special lady. In addition to her own blog she created and managed Humor Bloggers Dot Com where humour bloggers like m...

The Dangling Conversation

There's a debate underway in my household between my wife and I. I say "underway" because it hasn't quite reached the "raging" stage. If you want raging, my wife (a Francophone) and I (an Anglophone) from time to time (usually in a weak moment of my own making) slip into our number one discussion around why we don't speak more French at home - ergo - when am I, a former public servant who learned French at the expense of our gracious taxpayers and was technically rated bilingual (even though I hardly used it), going to improve my use of Canada's other language? This one never gets resolved, hence it's ongoing nature. But the current debate is over a remark I casually made the other day. I'm no geek, but with a lot of time on my hands I surf the web, converse on Facebook and such and - I have to admit - "I'm nonamedufus and I'm a Twitterholic". In an epiphany-like moment I was struck by the apparent impact of social networkin...

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