Month: February 2018

Bored, Part I: The Desk of a Packrat

It. Is. Still. Gray. And. Drizzly.  Only now it’s warm and drizzly instead of cold and drizzly.  Everyone is starved for sunshine.  I’ve been wanting to take Sigyn to the zoo for weeks, but we haven’t had a sunny day since the New Year began.

Still, every dark, damp cloud has a silver lining, and the good thing about all this gray, miserable weather, is that the human female has been sick and she is currently mute, except for that horrid cough.

I’m bored, and since it’s too wet to go exploring outside, Sigyn and I have decided to see what mischief  adventures we can get up to closer to home.  Today we shall brave…. the Human Female’s Desk!

Our first find is:  Food!  No surprise there.  She’s always gobbling something.


Help yourself.  She doesn’t need another snack anyway, especially a salty one.  She’ll just  swell up like a balloon.

Great Frigga’s hairpins!  Look at the clutter on this corner of the desk!  There must be a hundred sticky notes and bits of paper.  Doesn’t she ever tidy this up?  Ugh!  And that page-a-day!  Kitteh-speak!  I may hurl.


Sigyn is entranced by the picture of the man in the snow.  Dearest, that is a Yule album.  That should give you some idea of when the last time was the human female put anything away.

Fisi!  What are you doing here?  I thought I told you to stay home today!  Then again, a slavering hyena couldn’t make this piece of real estate any less of a pig-sty, so knock yourself out.

Hmm.  What’s this in front of the keyboard?  A hurried jotting of a discount code that the human female could have applied to the two dozen stools she just ordered from this exact same vendor. . .

missed coupon

. . .Had she not ordered them on the seventeenth.  What’s the rest of that scribbling?  Sigyn says it’s a genetics problem involving eye color in fruit flies.  I don’t know…  That’s a lot of X’s and males and females…  I think she’s planning an orgy.  That could get her fired!  I’d better put this on her boss’ desk.

Ooo!  What is this thing?


It’s round and woody and hollow, like a little pot.

And it’s full of these weird, hard-coated wedges.


It’s either some new-fangled human-feeder, like the pellet machines at petting zoos or those treat balls that make a dog work for its noms,  or the fruit of some member of the Lecythidaceae.  I’d say all are equally likely.

>|: [

This One’s Yours

Oh, human female, I know you are perpetually trying to lose a few pounds.  Since the weather’s been bad and exercise is tough because your feet are still six kinds of messed up, you’ve been working on something you call “portion control.”  I know it’s been hard, because you really do love to put your snout in the trough and just inhale.

Now, I never try to lose weight, of course, because the more of me, the better, but I’m willing to help you out.   Never let it be said that I’m unsympathetic.

Take tonight, for example.  Sigyn is visiting her sister, but the blue-haired goddaughter is here for dinner, and we are having fish.  These potato-crusted fish-oid objects are actually pretty tasty!  I’ve used my magic to make sure you don’t over-eat by right-sizing the “fillets” remaining in the bag.

See?  Two for me, two for the human male, two for the blue-haired goddaughter, and this special one for you.


You’re welcome.

>|: [

Everything Works Out

The human female is sick.  She’s got a barky cough that would put a seal to shame, and various goos oozing from her nose and eyes.  You’d think that would put a damper on the mood in the household, but you’d be wrong.  It doesn’t bother me at all.  Everything is working out fine.

She’s is currently sitting on an uncomfortable chair, wearing a face mask and waiting to see a doctor.  She’s playing games on her tablet to pass the time.  Look at that!  She has won over 1,000 games of something called “Penguin.”  It makes me wonder… When did she start?  Is that some sort of record?  How far could she go?  What happens if I push this little button right here?  Poink!  And I thought I’d be bored!


Hmm.  The doctor has pronounced the old nag, “Fit to take out behind the barn and shoot.”  I could have told him that.

Now she’s at the pharmacy, waiting on one of those drugs that’ll make her feel three-quarters dead before it makes her feel better.  But Sigyn and I are enjoying hanging out (literally) in this jasmine planted by the parking lot.  It’s the first, best blooming thing we’ve seen this spring!


So you see, it’s a great day!

>|: [

Did You Ever Go Shopping and Not Find Anything Good?

The humans are out and about, doing some poking in various emporiums.  Being a little bored, I’ve tagged along.

First stop, the grocery store.


I don’t know much about mortal children and their fascination with dinosaurs, but I can tell you that making kale and spinach into little bilgesnipe shapes would not have induced me or my brother to eat them.   (shudder)  I’m the actual god of mischief and I would never have come up with such a hideous idea.

We’re at the bookstore now.


Augh.  I can’t go anywhere without running into his stupid face.

>|: [

I Made Something Fun for Sigyn

The weather has been interminably cold, gray, and drizzly lately.  Everything is damp and clammy.  I wanted to do something fun for my sweetie to keep her spirits up.  I considered a lot of options, but in the end, all I had to do was shove a few electrons around.

Every year, this Midgardian city indulges in a spate of self-congratulation.  It started small, with residents voting for the best restaurant, best grocery, and whatnot. Over the years, it has expanded, like a metastasizing mushroom to include all sorts of weirdly specific categories, many of which might have only one representative.  Everybody wins!

They’ve published the results for last year.


It displays correctly on a laptop or desk top, but I did a little niggling and touch of nudging, and the display on a tablet is…off just a little, with hilariously disastrous results.  The following are actual screencaps.


Mmm.  I think I’ll have two whitewalls, over-easy.   And then the potato salad facial.


Sigyn, do you suppose Blue Baker uses a chipper-shredder to grate the cheese for their cheddar bread?   And I’d heard that modern tractors and combines have very comfy cabins, but I think they may have carried it a bit too far


Barbecued eyeballs?  Slow-smoked carburetor?   Suddenly the human female’s hit-or-miss cooking is looking better and better.


Do you suppose they take all the flowers from the funerals and sell them?  It’s what I’d do.


This confirms some suspicions I’ve had about a certain place’s coffee.   But now I have new suspicions that that second outfit is making feeble little elderly people polish chrome and wax hubcaps.


Yikes!   Sigyn, you are NOT going to either of these places  for your next girly check-up.


I guess the kitties that don’t make it become next week’s gut strings on sale?


If you never want to see your kids again, send them off to school at Readfield and rent them an apartment at that first place.  If they do manage somehow to make it through the semester, do NOT eat in the dining room on Sausage Night.  (Or ask about their absent roommate you met that one time.)


Ask yourself this:  under all the grease and sauce, can you really tell chicken from…rat?

Also, I’m pretty sure that is actually who the human female calls to help her with her trotters, since they have the full complement of chisels and chainsaws.


Well, I suppose washing and dyeing windows is good therapy for developing your hand-eye coordination and building up your upper-body strength, but I now have a new place I’m not ordering chicken from.


Along with a place I no longer get my subs.

I have to wonder about those other two places, though.  I can see where little bits of muffin could be very useful rewards for teaching your puppy to heel, but I always thought the most-used phrase for night clubs wasn’t, “Sit means sit,” but “No means No.”


This just in:  Scrubs are what the well-dressed woman is wearing this season!   I am not hiring an outfit that has “Dusty” right in its name to clean anything.  And I wonder what people more used to scrubbing and polishing really know about motherboards and processors.

Ah.  Sigyn giggling is my very favorite sound.  Mission accomplished.

>|: [

All Ready For The Presentation

The human female has identified a source of biodegradable lab gloves that break down in a landfill in just a couple of years, instead of hundreds.  I actually support this idea wholheartedly.  Not, of course, because I really care about the environment, but because the gloves are green.

She is putting together a presentation to pitch widespread adoption of these gloves throughout the A&M system.  It is full of boring charts and tables about elasticity, degradation in a landfill, blah, blah, blah.  snore.


I think I’ll tag along and help her out.  It’s always fun when the room’s projector won’t work with someone’s version of Powerpoint.  Or when the presenter has the choice of the room seeing the slides but she not being able to see her notes on her computer, OR the entire room getting to see the slide-plus-speaking-notes version.

She’s taking along some business cards in case anyone wants to talk to her ever again after what’s sure to be like a train wreck you can’t look away from.   Cards are a great idea!  I think I’ll make some of my own…


>|: [