Liberating Decorative Plates

Dear readers, I think I have discovered why decorative plates keep leaping off my kitchen wall and plunging to their death.   I'm convinced a little Silly Putty will do the trick.

Changing the volume level is out of the question.

Of Mice And Women

In Hollwood, when some femme fatale sees a spider - or worse a mouse - she screams and jumps up on the toilet.

Let's review here:

Thing 1:  What actually does the scream accomplish?

Thing 2:  Did anyone actually SEE Dr. No?  Three whacks and the spider is as flat as a pancake.

Thing 3: Most women these days carry those 20,000 volt stun guns.  One well-aimed blast and the mouse would be a chunk of carbon.

I think Hollywood needs a technical advisor - perhaps one from the Curmudgeon Societé Generale...

Movie Credits Pt. II

I have just learned from an alert reader in southern California that polite movie-watchers out there actually SIT THROUGH THE CREDITS at the end of movies.  No doubt to catch a mention of Uncle Finster as a boom operator or Auntie Petunia as a seamstress.

How civilized.  They probably exit the theater in an orderly manner as well.

They clearly haven't been to a movie in New Jersey.  The race for the exits as the credits start to roll is nothing short of a melee.  Little old ladies bring their umbrellas rain or shine to prod slow small children forward and whack anyone who even appears to be going after that last box of jujubes at the concession stand (see the 1/30 Repor).

I do believe the credits were still running in Avatar after I was half-way through the Lincoln Tunnel on my way home.

Being Vexed

I run a tight ship here at home - I'm a curmudgeon, dammit.

So when it comes to cat...stuff, I've devised a startlingly clever system (the clever part should come as no surprise to my regular readers): cat boxes in the basement - out of sight, out of smell, etc.  

Then there is the free access to the basement issue - a clever closing spring on the basement door does the trick. 

It is the way to "gap" the almost closed door that has really vexed me.  It must stop at about, oh, I don't know, the width of a cat? Given that Scruffy and Tiger, the Wonder Cat have been here for 10 years, this clearly has vexed me for some time.

Time for another nap.  I'm certain I'll resolve it this time.

French Onion Soup

I like a good French onion soup.  Apparently, so do restaurants, because they charge a pretty penny for it.

My Sainted wife and I thought "How hard can this be - throw some grilled onions into beef broth, a little bread on top, and cover with Gruyere."

A lousy 4 ingredients - what could go wrong?  Well, as it turns out, lots.  The cheese sank out of sight before we could even stick the soup bowls under the broiler, the bread sucked up all the soup, all hell seemed to break loose (culinarily speaking).

Those restaurant soups aren't looking so bad anymore.