nonamedufus

The prompt this month was nigh t. I pocketed my trusty iPhone camera and headed off into the darkness. I didn't have to go far. The first thing I came across were the lamps on our deck. Almost tripped right over them. Maybe it was the couple of pints of Corona. Next was the car in the driveway. This was too easy. A week or so later we went out for dinner to one of our favourite weekly spots, Hino's in Ottawa. Terry Hino does Japanese and when we go we sit at the bar overlooking the kitchen and chat with chef Terry. This is the view across the street from Hino's at dusk... It rained on our way home as we crossed the Champlain Bridge over the Ottawa River back to the Quebec side... I'm looking pretty calm despite the fact Mrs D was driving don't you think? Maybe it was the couple of pints of Sapporo with dinner. Make your way over to Challenge co-ordinator P.J.'s blog and see what other folks have come up with today/tonight

Every once in awhile I'll troll the gossip and weird news sites. I find they're often good for a laugh. For instance, I see Germany won't give Justin Bieber his monkey back. Well, geez, the guy should have known enough to keep it in his pants. Yeah, okay, I made that last part up. Sorry. I didn't mean to stiff ya. They were talking about a real monkey. Speaking of which, there was a story recently about a guy from Sweden who died after he decided to stick his penis into a hornet's nest. Sad to say, it turns out the story was a hoax, though. I say "sad" because this was quite the story. The guy reportedly had 146 wasp stings on his body, 46 of which were on his manhood. The coroner speculated the guy had sex with the nest which triggered the rage of the flying, stinging pests. Now if this story were true would you stop and ask yourself, "hell, what the heck was this guy thinking?" Was he thinking "Hey, I think I'll pleasure myself

Did you ever feel like you're living in a movie? I do. Except the character I play has no control over events. The perfect movie to describe my anxiety would be Network . And I, of course, am news anchor Howard Beale. You know the guy. He's the one in that biting Paddy Chayefsky-scribed dialogue who famously exhorts his viewers: "...I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, stick your head out, and yell, "I'M MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE..."   Oh, if only yelling this from my window would have some effect. Why, you ask, am I so possessed? You didn't ask? Never mind, I'm gonna tell you anyway. You're welcome. The Canadian government, the one I didn't vote for, has turned me over and given it to me up the whazoo. Well, figuratively speaking, of course. And not just once, but over and over again. It wasn't bad eno

I think I'm going blind. Well, not blind exactly but with advancing age my eyesight is failing. I told my wife and she said I should go the the optometrist. She's pretty smart, eh? Like the brightest pupil in class. So before things go too far, and I make a spectacle of myself, I'd best make that appointment. I'm noticing things like seeing the television much better with my glasses off than on. That's not right. I'm sure iris-k severe eye strain. I notice, too, when I'm driving my vision is blurry. That's not good. Driving like that lense itself to having an accident. I'm fine with things close up. Like books. I have no problem at all when I'm reading or on the computer. Or clipping my nails or picking my teeth. When properly framed, things are fine. And I test myself from time just to make sure. (Boy, that's gotta be the worst one, huh? i-test? hahaha) But I'm not alone when it comes to certain concerns related to aging.

The following musical interlude is brought to you by my mojo. Well no one told me about it, the way I cried Well no on told me about it, my brain was fried But it's too late to say I'm sorry How would you know, why should you care I been trying to find my mojo She's not there Well let me tell you 'bout the way I rocked The way I'd act and the puns that were there My wit was soft and cool My posts were clear and bright But they're not there Well no one told me about it, what could I do Well no one told me about it, and the air's now blue But it's too late to say I'm sorry How would you know, do you really care I'm still tryin' to find my mojo She's not there Well let me tell you 'bout the way I rocked The way I'd act and the puns that were there My wit was soft and cool My posts were clear and bright But they're not there But it's too late to say I'm writing How would you know, do you re

I'm slipping. I only got through 12 books in April, nowhere near the 18 I managed in March. But it brings to 41 the total number of books I've read this year. I'm still on my Private Eye jag and Ken Bruen, Dennis Lehane, Lee Child, Robert Crais and Ross MacDonald contributed towards my fix for the month. I went off the e-book grid and had to order Crais' Voodoo River from Amazon because it wasn't available in the e-book format. I've also ordered several more Crais books from Amazon just to ensure I continue his series in chronological order. Somewhat annoying they're not available in that format. My favourite reads this week where Rachel Joyce's The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and Candlemoth by R.J. Ellory. Neither of these are in the private eye genre. Pilgrimage is an endearing tale of a man of a certain age who hears a former female colleague is dying of cancer and writes her a letter. He goes out to mail it and instead decides to walk