News, Zoos and Reviews
Jan. 26th, 2021 03:58 pm....comin' right at you:) (GOK what earworm Dan'l is gonna throw back at me for inflicting THAT on him;)
We were once again promised something of a Snowmageddon today. Grossmageddon is more like it: hardly anything has accumulated, but what has is wet and disgusting. Fortunately, other than a run for banking and lunch (and both of those at drive-throughs), I haven't been out in it. I had a 9 a.m. phone hearing that I did from home, and am now waiting for two late appointments to show up. Somehow I've gotten quite a bit more than I expected off my plate in the hours in between- including offering to fire one client, and getting a nice I-told-you-so moment off on an opponent.
Michelle aka Evil Cat has seemed almost tolerable since her trimming and fumigation over the weekend. She mostly ignores me except when we're watching anything in the living room, and then she settles onto either the arm of my chair or, more often, on my chest approximating a rather large mustache with feet. This is much easier to deal with when she smells like baby shampoo rather than catbox. And speaking of, Bronzini apparently decided to help Mommy with gardening this morning- by peeing in a box of fresh soil she was using for plants in the cellar.
Last night, I finished Official Secrets. Not surprisingly, I'd read enough about the real story to know how it turned out legally for the main characters, and that pretty much removed all suspense from it. It's still a nicely done retelling of how even "mainstream" politicians like Tony Blair could be just as evil and deceptive as the more cartoon-villain ones we've become used to in both countries in the years since. But after that brief detour, we settled into a Netflix that I'd completely forgotten ordering: The Brand New Testament, a Belgian film from a few years back. It stars God as a flaming asshole, His wife as a henpecked embroiderer, His presumed-missing only Son as something of a troublemaker, but mostly focuses on His 10-year old daughter, who adds her own six apostles as a DaVinci coda-

- messes with Her Dad's computer, and generally has a fun time breaking out of heaven and driving Dad mad in every sense of the word. Catherine Deneuve is the only member of the cast we'd heard of, but we want to see more from these artists, and not just at a Supper table:)
Despite being a foreign film, baseball plays a modest role in the plot. We're now waiting for 2021 Hall of Fame inductees, if any, to be announced. The holdovers from prior years include a number of steroid cheaters and at least one certifiable Trumpernutter asshat. They still have inductees from last year to enshrine this August, so if none of them make it, particularly the one who stole the home run title from Hank Aaron, I will be perfectly fine with that.
Now to see if anyone else is coming to the table today.
We were once again promised something of a Snowmageddon today. Grossmageddon is more like it: hardly anything has accumulated, but what has is wet and disgusting. Fortunately, other than a run for banking and lunch (and both of those at drive-throughs), I haven't been out in it. I had a 9 a.m. phone hearing that I did from home, and am now waiting for two late appointments to show up. Somehow I've gotten quite a bit more than I expected off my plate in the hours in between- including offering to fire one client, and getting a nice I-told-you-so moment off on an opponent.
Michelle aka Evil Cat has seemed almost tolerable since her trimming and fumigation over the weekend. She mostly ignores me except when we're watching anything in the living room, and then she settles onto either the arm of my chair or, more often, on my chest approximating a rather large mustache with feet. This is much easier to deal with when she smells like baby shampoo rather than catbox. And speaking of, Bronzini apparently decided to help Mommy with gardening this morning- by peeing in a box of fresh soil she was using for plants in the cellar.
Last night, I finished Official Secrets. Not surprisingly, I'd read enough about the real story to know how it turned out legally for the main characters, and that pretty much removed all suspense from it. It's still a nicely done retelling of how even "mainstream" politicians like Tony Blair could be just as evil and deceptive as the more cartoon-villain ones we've become used to in both countries in the years since. But after that brief detour, we settled into a Netflix that I'd completely forgotten ordering: The Brand New Testament, a Belgian film from a few years back. It stars God as a flaming asshole, His wife as a henpecked embroiderer, His presumed-missing only Son as something of a troublemaker, but mostly focuses on His 10-year old daughter, who adds her own six apostles as a DaVinci coda-

- messes with Her Dad's computer, and generally has a fun time breaking out of heaven and driving Dad mad in every sense of the word. Catherine Deneuve is the only member of the cast we'd heard of, but we want to see more from these artists, and not just at a Supper table:)
Despite being a foreign film, baseball plays a modest role in the plot. We're now waiting for 2021 Hall of Fame inductees, if any, to be announced. The holdovers from prior years include a number of steroid cheaters and at least one certifiable Trumpernutter asshat. They still have inductees from last year to enshrine this August, so if none of them make it, particularly the one who stole the home run title from Hank Aaron, I will be perfectly fine with that.
Now to see if anyone else is coming to the table today.