My Muse Later That Year

Hello sadistic fools loyal readers. Back for more, I see. Well, I aim to please. Here's a glimpse at my muse a few months later. I still wish it looked like this. Wife beater, plumber's crack and all.

Enjoy that visual.

My Muse In January 2009

Yes, I was blogging way back then. I started in 2008 actually, and have done over 400 posts. This one is number 427. I'm not proud. Or tired. (Name that song!! I'll give you ten thousand imaginary bonus points and much respect if you do.)

Anywho! Back to the topic! Re-runs, of the moldy-oldy variety, as promised. My muse in that month of that year was wreaking havoc all over my manuscripts and acting like a dynamite loving Muppet.

Enjoy this blast from the past.

My Muse

I'm Tired

But not from this.


Just from everything else.

We're heading to Montana soon to visit my parents. Last time we were out there was four years ago. We went to the local rodeo when we were there last. Check out the pictures.

So I'm planning some reruns whilst I'm away. I'll dig up some moldy oldy Tongue In Cheek gems just for you.

Curve Ball

We got back from vacation in the Poconos with The Man's family last Friday. I ran the writer's meeting Saturday, have barely unpacked and have been working feverishly on getting ready for the Youngest Urchin's birthday and party Friday and Saturday respectively.

Unfortunately, our 15 year old suv decided to be ornery and not pass inspection. Repairs to said geriatric vehicle would cost at least as much as it's worth. So now we're scrambling to find something comparable to replace it with.

That we can afford.

And will tow our pop-up camper.

And that we can afford.

And fits two car seats.

That we can actually afford.

And will be reliable.

Before we leave next week for Montana.

Plus my mother-in-law is having ankle surgery tomorrow, and I'm heading over to a friend's house who has ALS to weed for her in the afternoon. And I need to make cupcakes and wrap presents and decorate and get the carnival games ready for about ten five and six year olds who will be coming Saturday to my back yard and I'm praying for good weather because there's no way all those little kids and their parents will fit in my house and I want to trim the bushes so they don't eat said children as they run by between face painting and sack races and I need to pack for Montana.

I could go on, but I'll leave you with this little nugget of personal information.

I've developed an eye twitch over the past six months and both the family physician and the ophthalmologist who recently tried to shiv my eye blamed it on stress.

I have a feeling they may be right.

I Love AC/DC As Much As The Next Person, But . . .

This takes that devotion to new places I'm not sure I want to go.

I've been a fan of AC/DC for most of my life. I got to see them in Philly in 1989 during the Money Talks tour at the Spectrum when the Spectrum was still in existence. I still have the fake money they dropped from the ceiling with Angus Young's face on it.

But this. This goes beyond fandom and into creepy artistic tribute/scary male exotic Scottish leather kilt dancing.


Yet there is something train-wreck compelling about the performance. And the bagpipe rendition worked on me. I just need to close my eyes while I listen.

I don't know who I'd go this far to celebrate/emulate. How about you?  Anyone you'd go all out for to publicly tribute?

And how the hell did he get the flames to come out of the bagpipes?