I remember listening to and loving Sounds of Silence as a kid. Later, as a teen, I remember hearing Paul Simon rhyme “Just hop on the bus, Gus,” and felt my tiny fandom die. Paul Simon and I can never be friends because of that song. I won’t name it. Its 50th anniversary is probably coming up soon. I don’t care. When I had a pair of beta fish, I named the mean one Simon and the sweet one Garfunkel. Guess how that turned out.

Anyway, I’m possibly being a teeny bit unfair. At the time, I assumed that everyone could smugly rhyme nearly anything better than bus/Gus. Over time I have learned that it is not true. Many people struggle with rhymes and find them delightful. They found bus/Gus delightful too. I am trying to relate and find a way to be delighted by the rhymes that follow me around and bounce out of my brain, unwanted and often surly.

Tofu inspires most of them these days, which is odd, since nothing rhymes with Tofu.

Oh, Tofu, what you go through! That’s just weak.

I catch myself saying things to him like Good job, little Bob and Way to go, Idaho (not mine, of course). When I’m cranky, I may say Good work, little jerk.

As we all know, it matters a lot less what you say to a dog than what tone you use. They are mostly about the tone. He does have word preferences. I would swear he prefers it when I say Why so slowy, David Bowie? instead of Let’s jet, Antoinette! Maybe he just likes the questions.

You’re a winner, Dr. Skinner. What a fella, Nelson Mandela!

I try to mix it up. The characters shouldn’t all be heroic or male.

You’re darn tootin’, Little Putin. Why you fartin’, Dolly Parton?

Pure nonsense is great.

Imma smoosh your face without a trace! Gotcher kibble, bibbity bibble! Through the bog, little dog!

Get you spiffy in a jiffy! Whatchoo sniffin, little griffin?

Whatchoo doin’, Patrick McGoohan? Why so fiesty, Iced T?

Time to get in the car, superstar!

Some are 100% predictable.

Imma pick you up, little pup. So much fur, little cur! Now you’re talkin’, Christopher Walken!

I’ll stop somewhere far short of fifty, because I’m not interested in torture, at the moment.

I know some of you worry about me, but I hope you know, whatever my drivel, if I’m posting, I’m coasting.


Books!! More giveaways are going out. I was very surprised to find U.S. addresses on some of them, so I have a clutch of domesticated copies shipping out soon.

Hand-book of calisthenics and gymnastics 1864 Watson - James Madison

Glacial Home Repair Done Wrong, Inc.

I hung a blind! It is cordless. The operation required four trips up a ladder and five incidents of cussing. The twiddly bit that adjusts the tilt was lost and found again. This is a big improvement because the cat flosses her teeth on the strings of the old blind and I don’t think I have to describe the disgust of grabbing wet blind string to anyone.


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