what is it with me and animal noses?
Hastings has now decided that I feed him every time I stand up. He’s stepped up the “how about a snack?” meow to the “I’m calling the animal protection society, bastard” meow. Every time I put food in his bowl, he spins around and fixes me with this look that I could never figure out. Was he worried that I was going to take it away? Now I realize the look means, “Leave the bag, monkey boy. And it’s only your thumbs that are keeping you alive.”
My friend Bronwyn Merritt has an art show at the Durham Arts Council, and if you can, you should definitely check it out. Primo and I went to the opening, where we ran into Phil Marsupialtuxedo. In between eating all of the little cubes of cheese, we managed to check out the art. Primo bought this piece, which is nice because I’ll get to see it in his house.
Bronwyn’s husband The Chairman was on hand, and I asked him to give me his best Krusty the Clown “Hey hey!” face. I love the old man glasses. He’s the only guy I know who could make them work.
Bronwyn’s youngest fans, Esme and Archer, were there too. In this photo, Archer is reading her name tag. “B – R – O – N – W – Y – N.” “And what does that spell, Archer?” “MOMMY!”
After the opening we went to Bronwyn and Mark’s other major work of art, Hell, for Thursday night bar trivia. Our team, Suck It, Trebek, has been going through a bit of a slump, but I’m happy to report that we triumphed, and won some more giveaway bar crap. This week we had a good run of categories. “Several weeks ago we won the night thanks to our domination of the Beer and Cartoons categories, so Mom and Dad, you’ll be glad to know my degree isn’t going to waste.”
Thursday we got the Russian History category, and Mike totally went to town on it. In the tiebreaker round, he successfully answered questions about director Sergei Eisenstein, the 1812 Overture and its relation to the war between France and Russia, and Molotov and the Russo-German non-aggression pact. Contrast this with my performance in the tiebreaker for the Food and Drink category, where I could not remember how many ounces were in a cup. Good thing to keep in mind the next time I invite you for dinner.
Man. In one week I go from writing about partying with naked Scotsmen to pictures of cats and kids and reporting on a trivia contest. I need to go back to Iceland.
YES! My one-millionth Iceland reference! I fear I am in danger of becoming someone who could be lampooned in an Onion headline reading, “Aging Hipster Manages to Work Iceland Trip into Every Conversation.”