Beyond the Black Hole

It seems to be catching on

Thanks go to DeAnna.

What word?

I just love Abbot and Costello.

Bully, or something like that

What's that smell? Unusual aroma. Do I detect some oregano? Was that a whiff of basil? Why do humans continue to feed us all that bland kibble? Do you truly think your dog enjoys a bowl of Kibbles & Bits? Lucky Charms would be better. Those marshmallow bits are so magically delicious. Of course, I myself would definitely prefer some Krispy Kremes . . . or, really pamper your dog, here, boss . . . howz 'bout a real thick rare T-Bone steak. Oh yeah!

Did I read it right?

Is Miss Kitty upset with Tiger?

A day late, it seems

Yes, sadly, I missed the opportunity to spread the news about Woody Woodpecker Day. It was yesterday.

Back to the Inbox

It seems the whole household has come down with something. I was not sure what it was called, but after reading this post at DramaQueen, I have discovered it is likely what Susie has identified as beal. Four bloggers and not a one could come up with a single post for a whole day, yesterday. I have been scouring my inordinately superior brain for something that was worthy of my taking the time to write. Nada! Zilch!

I have determined that there is nothing to do but to see if I got another ignorant email which deserves an answer

Dear Big Bird,

I really really like to eat Corn Nuts™. How about you?

Sam, aged 11, Conroe, Texas

Sam, you may have written to the wrong bird. I am not Big Bird. Still, you asked a good question. I do like Corn Nuts™ but have to watch my salt intake and rarely indulge in this delightful snack.

Of course, I am aware that there is a new meme going around which asks readers to ask three questions. I am up for that. The next three persons who ask three questions will receive truthful answers. As an added bonus, to give the other three bloggers something to do, you may ask your three questions to either myself, Miss Kitty, Bill Bulldog or Mr Mouse.

A sick day for a birthday

It's Tiger's Birthday, and he has been sick all day. Poor Tiger.

Hey, who turned out the lights?

The lights went out last night for some reason. There was no power here almost all day today either. I do not know much about such things, but I do know you have to have power to operate things. Of course, I really do not need any light to find any cheese. I just wish I could open the refrigerator.

Humans can be so funny sometimes

Why would someone go to all that trouble to look so stupid.

Michael had a few other comments about it.

I'm Back!

Well, I am out of rehab. Clean and sober! No more catnip for me. Living life one day at a time. Rehab was not so bad, well once the withdrawal problems subsided. It was not like I did not have company. There were plenty of other cats around. There were a couple of celebrity guests surrounded by such large entourages, I could not ever see who the were. It must be great to be famous. Bird Brain says this blogging thing might make me famous, maybe as famous as Garfield.

I will say one thing for blogging, you do get to meet some interesting cats. Take this hot looking tomcat, for example. Meow!!!!

Still, it seems the human pussycats [Example One - Example Two] are yowling over the behavior of some human tomcats [Example One - Example Two - Example Three] while I was away. I never seem to understand when the kitty cats get in such an uproar over the actions of the tomcats. They are tomcats, after all. All they do is prowl around looking for a good time. Do you ever see one of them that seems as interested in caring for kittens as they are in making kittens? Do you ever wonder how they can miss the litter box when they are standing right in the middle of it? You think one belongs to you, and yet, you know that he is sneaking all around town, sniffing the pheromones of every pussycat he meets ... just hoping to get lucky.

I am thinking the more you squawk about what they do, the more they will keep doing it. I remember my mother telling me that if someone is picking on you and you cry, they are getting what they want. If you just take it without saying a word, they will soon tire of the game and leave you alone. I think that is still some good advice.

Of course, I might be way off base about some of it. Although I hate to admit it, Mr Mouse is right about us understanding humans. There are some things about humanity I cannot understand at all.

"No, No, Bad Dog, No!"

Oh brother, is my friend Charley ever in the doghouse. It seems he was unaware of the new security monitors his owners had installed on the property. They caught him doing something he was really trying to keep as a secret. In the extended entry is a still shot taken from the security video. You might be able to see why his owners would be a bit upset with his behavior.

They have upgraded our prize again

Bird Brain never did get to see what kind of Flappy Bird we were going to be awarded in the Ecosystem Contest. I was informed that due mainly to all my skittering here and there, I have generated enough interest in the goings on at Beyond the Black Hole, that the Contest Judges have decided that instead of a Flappy Bird, they are going to give us an Adorable Little Rodent. Hey, wait, isn't that what I am? Oh well, I guess we really should be happy. There are a lot of contestants who are clamoring for the Flappy Bird that we never received. I think it is just a common chicken though, and not a highly intelligent Parrot like Bird Brain.

_{I would like to note that the recent climb up the ranks has also propelled Beyond the Black Hole into the lead spot among all blogs with the word BEYOND in the TITLE. There are quite a number of such blogs.}

A bit on the lighter side

Here is a joke. I looked for a good Parrot joke. I happened across this one and thought it was funny.

Bill, a devout cowboy, lost his favorite Bible while he was mending fences on uncle's farm

Three weeks later a cow walked up to him carrying the Bible in its mouth. The cowboy couldn't believe his eyes.

He took the precious book out of the cow's mouth, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, with great joy..."It's a miracle!"

"Not Really," said the cow. "Your name is written inside the cover."

Bird Brain answers all

OK, another slow night. I guess I will see what is in the mail box.

Dear Mr. Brain,

I have really come to admire you and your great intellect. I would really like to know what is the most ignorant question you have ever been asked to answer?

G. Reynolds

Well G., I appreciate your admiration. I am not sure that I could name any one question as being the most ignorant, but if I could, it would be one of these three:

1. Wanna cracker?
2. Can you talk? and
3. Now that didn't hurt a bit, did it?

Isn't it attributable to Dr. Polly?

This is something with which only a Parrot could have concluded.

So, one can then conclude with mathematical certainty that while Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, Bullshit and Ass-kissing will put you over the top.

It takes more intellect of which a human brain is capable to conceive inane abstractions in such manner as are displayed in SilverBlue's offering.

Mice have nightmares too

At least no dogs were embarrassed

I was surfing the web and came across something that had me snickering so much that Bird Brain began to stare at me. I got so tickled by the post, I feared that he would begin thinking that I needed to go into rehab.

I swear the guy on the far left of No. 7 looks like a guy that tried to kick me when I was jogging in the park one day. I sure did want to bite that guy, but what with the one bite rule, you have to save the one you get when you really really need to bite someone.

Thanks to Ilyka.

Humanity is hard to understand

I was reading this:

'Toothing is a form of anonymous sex with strangers - usually on some form of transport or enclosed area such as a conference or training seminar. 'Toothers meet by first connecting suitable equipment - such as a modern phone or palmtop computer. Users 'discover' other computers or phones in the vicinity and then send a speculative message. The usual greeting is: 'Toothing?'.

What confuses me is that there is so much formality involved. Mice just meet and do it. There is no fuss and no bother. You do not worry that other mice are watching. Your only worry is that some bigger, stronger mouse will come around before you begin and muck up all your impromptu plans.

Paul seemed quite interested in this subject.

I won another prize, but am not quite sure what

First of all, I was not quite sure what the rules to the contest were, and I had to fudge on the question about clothes, because I do not wear any clothes. The nice natural fluffy coat of gray fur covers all my parts quite nicely, thank you. Still, everyone seemed to be playing this game, so I wanted to win a prize too! I won this one:

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

I do hope it is a good prize and is worth lots of cheese.

I found the link to this game somewhere.

I wish I could drive

If I could drive, I think I would have this plate on my car:

Of course, we don't live in Georgia. As has been mentioned previously, we are residents of Utter, Confusion, but my uncle once lived in Georgia. He tried out for team mascot a couple of times, but that old car chasing injury hampered any real chance he had of making the Georgia Bulldog team. Still, one can dream of the good life.

More idiotic email questions graciously answered

Oh my, was there a load of idiots who wrote in today. Take this one for example:

Hey Bird Brain,

I have been spending many days chasing down a monster. Yes, a monster. This monster is the spawn of the Dark King of all Demonic Monsters and wakens me each morning at 6:00 AM sharp.

Oh, that tongue and that breath. Stop licking my face, you vile beast!

Do all bulldogs do that? This bulldog, besides being a demon, is retarded. Do you think anyone will care if I kill IT?

Curious George, but not the one that is a monkey

Well, my curious questioner. I normally only answer one question per idiot and you have posed two. The answer you seek is yes. Please apply such liberally and learn to live with your fellow creatures. I share a habitat with a bulldog, as well, as you likely know. Otherwise you were really taking a shot in the dark by asking me that pair of idiotic questions. However, I have learned that idiots, if nothing else, are highly unpredictable. Again, the answer is yes.

I just don't get it

I overheard this earlier today. I am not sure exactly what is so funny about it, but the group that was surrounding the human who told it were all laughing heartily.

Larry La Prise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey," died peacefully at age 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in. Then the trouble started.

Mr Mouse enjoys a holiday

I apologize for my lack of blogging today. It was such a lovely day that I wanted to get out. I was hanging out over in the parking lot of the Pak-n-Sak begging customers for spare cheese. You would have thought I was a fanatical Islamic terrorist from the hysterical reactions I received upon approaching a couple of female humans.

Despite your belief that a mouse would never be able to score some cheese by hanging around a convenience store parking lot, some of the holiday crowd were very receptive to my presence. One man even stopped to talk to me and acted like he understood what I was saying. Either that, or he just knew that I was asking for cheese. I did not get any cheese, however. I did get a whole bag full of cheese flavored snacks. It is not quite the same, but what do they say, beggars can't be choosers?

Tracking back to OTB, Boss!

Answering Idiots is the name of the game

Another email to be answered:

Hey!

Since that Miss Kitty is falling down on her end of the blogging chore, do you think maybe I could become a member of your team?

Kang A. Roo

Mr. Roo, your reputation in the blogosphere precedes you. All of us here at Beyond the Black Hole are aware that you provide the punchlines for the Dumb Ass Jokes over at Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon. Only an idiot would have become involved in that ordeal and we already have our share of idiots involved with this blog. Such idiots would be all that are currently involved save myself. Sorry, but we are not currently accepting applications for substitute blog authors. If you will leave your resume, we may contact you in the future should we find an opening.

Regarding the long long life of Mr Mouse

Bird Brain is talking about writing his autobiography. I bet it would be interesting, as he has been around for almost forever. He said something about being around before Elvis was King, whatever that means. I was thinking about writing my autobiography as well. I suppose I could begin it with something like:

It was a dark and stormy night on October 3, 2003 when Marjorie gave birth to nine little naked baby mice. It was a day later when she got around to giving them all names and saddled me with the moniker, Mortimer.

So? What do you think? Do you think it has any potential to be a best seller?

Some very interesting statistics

I have discovered that today, beside a smattering of visitors from the old U. S. of A., our pitiful blog had visitors from Japan, Denmark, Australia, Canada, Singapore, and Belgium. I find it amazing that denizens of these foreign countries not only have the ability to read about our adventures over these great distances and find it highly amazing that they should wish to do so.

Wishing Miss Kitty well on the road to recovery

The one or two of you who have been visiting this blog have likely noticed there has been some problems dealing with our friend, sometimes enemy, Miss Kitty. Thanks to the superior snooping skills of Mr Mouse, it was learned that Miss Kitty was abusing the catnip ball greatly. Her addiction to the substance was affecting her personality and her abilities to deal with her responsibilities. I, Bill Bulldog, and surmounting his great fear, Mr Mouse, confronted Miss Kitty about her substance abuse problems in an intervention. She protested and resisted, but our resolve was firm. Eventually we convinced Miss Kitty to seek treatment for her addiction. Tomorrow, she will enter the Morris the Cat Clinic for Felines with Substance Abuse Problems and remain therein until she has kicked the catnip habit.

I am almost positive that your well wishes will speed her recovery. Any who wish to do so, please use the comments. All comments will be forwarded on to our dear Miss Kitty.

With a little help from my friends?

Well, thanks to my friend Tyson, I have decided to take up a new hobby. However, I need a bit of equipment. As Mr Mouse finds it difficult dealing with humans in matters concerning money and communication, I too face similar difficulties. Can anyone advise me as how to communicate to our nameless benefactor that I need something from the local sporting goods store?

I must thank David for having initially introduced me to Tyson.

But it did not say a thing about cheese

Wow, it seems that Bird Brain has been doing well with answering emails on this blog. He gets a lot of emails, though. I do not get so many. I think maybe more Parrots read blogs than mice. Still, I did get an email today, so I thought maybe I could do what Bird Brain does and post it here and answer it. Unlike the short emails that Bird Brain gets, however, I got this:

Dear Mr Mouse,

You may be surprised to receive this letter from me since you do not know me personally. The purpose of my introduction is that I am Mbeki Salingo, the first son of MERIMBE TUTU SALINGO ,the most popular black farmer in Zimbabwe who was recently murdered in the land dispute in my country.

I got your contact through network online hence decided to write you. Before the death of my father, he had taken me to Johannesburg to deposit the sum of US8.5 Million (Eight Million, Five Hundred United States dollars)in one of the private security company, as he foresaw the looming danger in Zimbabwe this money was deposited in a box as gemstones to avoid much demurrage from security company. This amount was meant for the purchase of new machines and chemicals for the Farms and establishment of new farms in Swaziland. This land problem came when Zimbabwean President Mr.Robert Mugabe introduced a new Land Act Reform wholly affected the rich white farmers and some few black farmers.And this resulted to the killing and mob action by Zimbabwean war veterans and some lunatics in the society. In fact a lot of people were killed because of this Land reform Act for which my father was one of the victims.

It is against this background that, I and my family fled Zimbabwe for fear of our lives and are currently staying in Spain where we are seeking political asylum and moreso have decided to transfer my father^Òs money to a more reliable foreign account. since the law of Spain prohibits a refugee (asylum seeker) to open any bank account or to be involved in any financial transaction throughout the territorial zone of Spain, As the eldest son of my father, I am saddled with the responsibility of seeking a genuine foreign account where this money could be transferred without the knowledge of my government who are bent on taking verything we have got. The South African government seems to be playing along with them. I am faced with the dilemma of moving this amount of money out of South Africa for fear of going through the same experience in future, both countries have similar political history. As a businessman,I am seeking for a partner who I have to entrust my future and of my family in his hands, I must let you know that this transaction is risk free. If you accept to assist me and my family,all I want you to do for me, is to arrangements with the security company to clear the consignment(funds) from their afiliate office here in Spain as i have already given directives for the consignment to be brought to Spain from South Africa.But before then all modalities will have to be put in place e.g change of ownership of the consignment and This money I intend to use for investment.

I have two options for you. Firstly you can choose to have certain percentage of the money for nominating your account for this transaction. Or you can go into partnership with me for the proper profitable investment of the money in your country. Whichever the option you want, feel free to notify me. I have also mapped out 5% of this money for all kinds of expensesincurred in the process of this transaction. If you do not prefer a partnership I am willing to give you 15% of the money while the remaining 80% will be for my investment in your country. Contact me with my private E-mail address (mbekisalingo@zwallet.com) while I implore you to maintain the absolute secrecy required in this transaction.

Thanks, GOD BLESS YOU

Yours Faithfully,
Mbeki Salingo

Oh goodness, Mbeki, that is a very sad story. My condolences for the loss of your father. Your situation sounds very involved and much too complicated for my little mouse brain to comprehend. What do you mean by modalities?If I understand correctly, you want my assistance with transferring a large sum of dollars in some manner. Mice have no understanding of money matters nor do we have any real need for money. All mice of my acquaintance simply forage for whatever they need, being cheese or other delicious repast. Money might be beneficial for purchasing large quantities of cheese, but the humans in my local area have shown to have no understanding of mouse speak. I fear that I can be of no help to you.

A smattering of recognition

So, so, there is not woe, for I am here to tell you that Mr Rob from that world renowned Internet publication: CrabAppleLane Blog, has paid this poor worthless blog the highest compliment. We have been named as Blog of the Day. Such accolades please us well, but we are cowed as we feel we are not worthy of such honor. However, we do feel so so appreciative for such honor. Thank you very very much, Mr Rob.

Scraping the bottom of the barrel for something to share

What a dreary day. The lack of readership is depressing Mr Mouse, Miss Kitty has opted out for the time being, and Bill Bulldog is still recovering from this traumatic episode. I have not found anything on which I feel compelled to comment. However, I am of the opinion that there needs to be some kind of new content in this blog if it is ever to amount to anything amongst the millions and millions of other blogs that also clamor to be seen. Still, I am blank. I have no choice but to reach into that inbox and retrieve another of those emails with some request to answer a question. Let me see, how about this one:

Dear Bird Brain:

I think Beyond the Black Hole is a fantastic blog. I think you are truly cool. What I would like to know is, do you think that Jimmy Buffett's Changes in Latitudes Changes in Attitudes is the best album of all time?

Michael W. Miller, Key West, FL

I appreciate your letter Michael and both your opinion about this blog and my personal temperature, however, you have posed a question that is truly unanswerable. Although it is a fact that Jimmy Buffett is, indeed, a friend to the Parrots and that such album is recognized as one of Buffet's finest achievements, all time has not yet passed. I shall be unable to make any such determination until it has done so.

Strange days are made like these?

I am not sure if the allowed under the Mouse Council laws for a mouse to admit that anything a cat says is correct, but I am almost sure that if it was not for the following searches, hardly anyone would have even visited this blog at all today:

AOL: black sista dancers
Google: smells like tuna
Google: black holes on penis
Google: grey parrots and colorblind
Google: not a creature was stirring
Yahoo !: all kind of rodents
Yahoo !: biggest black hole of all time

Toying with an idea

I don't understand why I have such a hard time talking to my blogging partners about things on my mind. It is like whenever I try to get close to Mr Mouse, he runs into the hole in the wall. If I go and try to talk to Bird Brain, he runs to the other side of his cage and starts squawking like crazy. I do not even try to get close to Bill Bulldog, as you know how crazy dogs can be. It is like they have something against cats or something. For several days, I have been trying and trying to tell them that is seems that no matter how hard you try or how often you blog, no one seems to really care enough to even come around to see what you have written. If, for some strange reason, they do come to see what is new, they never seem to stay around long enough to even leave a comment.

I have been keeping to myself these last few days, but I was unable to keep from hearing them saying that I am not keeping up with doing my part on this blog. That may be so, then again, maybe they have been wasting their time and I am the one the smart one. I don't know. They do seem to be having fun. I suppose if things should improve somewhat, I might do a bit more blogging. We shall see, I guess.

Lost posts and altered passwords

Susie says she doesn't have anything to blog about and yet was able to blog. In fact, she was so well prepared that thanks to her

"save early, save often" philosophy

she was able to avoid the mess that just befell me. Yes, I just lost the previous totally meaningless and poorly composed post that been designed to occupy this space. It somehow disappeared into that great void where lost posts go. Bird Brain suggested that it is the same place where missing socks reside. He is wrong about that, but I am not going to share such information with him. I am avoiding him because he changed my password. All morning, I sat here, to no avail, racking my pitifully poor little mouse brain trying all kinds of combinations. Bird Brain had his laughs and I finally gave up. I left. I took my secret tunnel outside to eat some of the bird seed that had fallen from the bird feeder onto the ground below. I came back in and the password had been changed back to *******. I am worn out now and ready for a nap.

Another idiot with a question

Maybe I should not have opened the floor for your ignorant questions. It seems my mail bag was full of them. However, I suppose I could answer one. Let me pick one from random. Let's see what this says:

Hey Bird Brain,

Has anyone ever told you that you are an arrogant asshole?

Donald Rapport
Pawtucket, Massachussetts

Hi Donald,

I want to thank you for your question. Yes, surprisingly, one person previously had the audacity to say that into my face. For having done so, I bit her nose right off of her face. Now, where exactly do you live?

Dog Day afternoon -- and on and on it went

I heard some of you had been worrying about me, but then that might just be what I heard. I looked around at the comments and such, and I seen very few signs anyone even missed me being around. So, does anyone want to know where I have been? OK, since you are all silent, I am going to tell the story just for the sake of that poor little homeless girl who emailed in from the public library. I was incarcerated.

Yes, I just spent almost the last 36 hours in the local hound pound. It was a set up, I am sure. You see, there I was in the back yard minding my own business, just napping in the sun when this aroma hits my highly sensitive nose. It was definitely female and it was definitely a female craving some male attention. I am not sure you humans can understand this, but us dogs have an uncanny sense about such things. Of course, I in the backyard surrounded by fences, but I ran over and peeked through the cracks between the boards to catch sight of this little French poodle number. She looked my way, and I know she knew I was watching, because she started shaking that cropped tail just ever so friskily and carrying her nose in the air. She was showing that canine disdain that says Sorry buster, you just are not of my class. Still, I watched, mesmerized by that lithe canine form until she turned the corner and went out of my sight. I ran quickly to the gate so as to get a better look through the big crack between the gate and the fence, and as fate would have it, when I jumped up on the gate to peek through the biggest hole, the gate opened. I was free.

I quickly ran to the little frisky French number but she saw me coming and ran away. I thought she was just playing hard to get so I pursued. I had nearly caught her when I heard a human call out "Monique" and she darted off around another corner. I, of course, kept in hot pursuit. As I turned the corner, I saw her run between two human legs through an partially opened door into some unknown habitat. I dared not venture farther.

I decided to take up watch and did so, parking myself on the sidewalk in front of this habitat awaiting the time when Miss Monique would again come through that door. I was sure what with that aroma of need that she emitted, she would venture forth at the earliest opportunity. I guess I must have let my mind drift too much into the thoughts of what misdeeds in which Miss Monique and I might engage upon the very next opportunity and failed to notice as the local law enforcement personnel came up behind me and arrested me for stalking. I had done nothing but sit there and watch the door, but here I was accused of stalking. It was unfair, I tell you.

I was taken to the pokey and thrown into a cell with a black Labrador with some really bad breath. I was deprived of my right to a phone call and the food was horrible. I think it was that Ol' Roy stuff they sell at Walmart. Have you ever tasted that stuff. It isn't fit for a dog. Anyway, thank goodness I was wearing my neckware with my identification, because they eventually were able to contact our unnamed human benefactor who arranged my release.

Pretty sad situation, I know. I still think it was a set up. I think that French bitch planned the whole thing. I never did trust those French.

Lost dog UPDATE!

Bill Bulldog is home. He just came in with the nameless human who shares our habitat. I will attempt to get closer to the situation in hopes that I can an idea as to where he has been. The atmosphere in this house is currently eerie and calm. Miss Kitty just ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs to take refuge in the spare bedroom. Bird Brain is strangely silent. Something is afoot. However, Bill Bulldog is alive and well, or so he seemed during that short view I had of him between the front door and the kitchen.

Often believed to be more valuable than gold

Did you ever wish you weighed a whole lot more? I mean, it is not that I don't like myself the way I am, but if I was going to win my weight in cheese, I think I would want to weigh more than 11 ounces.

Bird Brain says we need to make sure we remember where we found the links to these stories, so I found that one at one of the few blogs that always has a bit of cheese for me: The Cheese Stands Alone (and often unguarded)

Beware the Nation of Weebles

Now Mr Mouse has been scurrying about over the last couple of days through this blog and that, doing a great job of avoiding Miss Kitty. In his adventures, he collected quite a few scraps of paper upon which various different things are written. I was looking through this pile and ran across some very interesting information, and found some connections that I thought I would share. After all, if it was not for us Parrots pointing the way, most discoverers would have discovered diddly-squat.

I guess the first thing that I ought to bring to your attention is this very well written, albeit a bit long, piece from The New Yorker about a new scientific methodology: biological economics in the form of a study into anthropometric history.

Around the time of the Civil War, Americans’ heights predictably decreased: Union soldiers dropped from sixty-eight to sixty-seven inches in the mid-eighteen-hundreds, and similar patterns held for West Point cadets, Amherst students, and free blacks in Maryland and Virginia. By the end of the nineteenth century, however, the country seemed set to regain its eminence. The economy was expanding at a dramatic rate, and public-hygiene campaigns were sweeping the cities clean at last: for the first time in American history, urbanites began to outgrow farmers.

Then something strange happened. While heights in Europe continued to climb, Komlos said, “the U.S. just went flat.” In the First World War, the average American soldier was still two inches taller than the average German. But sometime around 1955 the situation began to reverse. The Germans and other Europeans went on to grow an extra two centimetres a decade, and some Asian populations several times more, yet Americans haven’t grown taller in fifty years. By now, even the Japanese—once the shortest industrialized people on earth—have nearly caught up with us, and Northern Europeans are three inches taller and rising.

The average American man is only five feet nine and a half—less than an inch taller than the average soldier during the Revolutionary War. Women, meanwhile, seem to be getting smaller. According to the National Center for Health Statistics—which conducts periodic surveys of as many as thirty-five thousand Americans—women born in the late nineteen-fifties and early nineteen-sixties average just under five feet five. Those born a decade later are a third of an inch shorter.

Just in case I still thought this a trivial trend, Komlos put a final bar graph in front of me. It was entitled “Life Expectancy 2000.” Compared with people in thirty-six other industrialized countries, it showed, Americans rank twenty-eighth in average longevity—just above the Irish and the Cypriots (the Japanese top the rankings). “Ask yourself this,” Komlos said, peering at me above his reading glasses. “What is the difference between Western Europe and the U.S. that would work in this direction? It’s not income, since Americans, at least on paper, have been wealthier for more than a century. So what is it?”

It, it turns out is the growing gap between the haves and the have nots, the increase in choosing fast food over nutritious food and the mass urbanization of the populations, which spreads disease more rapidly.

As more and more Americans turn to a fast-food diet, its effects may be creeping up the social ladder, so that even the wealthy are growing wider rather than taller.

So, McDonald's is to fault for the this trend of Americans to become obese after all? Well, although the court's have yet to sustain that there is a cause of action against McDonald's for the obesity of its patrons, McDonald's is taking steps toward doing its part in making Americans healthier, announcing today a plan to market new health conscious Adult Happy Meals.

Instead of Happy Meal standards like a burger and a toy, the new Go Active meal will include a salad, an exercise booklet and a pedometer meant to encourage walking.

Hopefully Americans will take heed. Of course, if you listened to us Parrots, you would eschew meat all together and stick with fruits and coarse grains.

Another correlation found between The New Yorker story and some of the other news items floating around was this:

The Netherlands, as any European can tell you, has become a land of giants. In a century’s time, the Dutch have gone from being among the smallest people in Europe to the largest in the world. The men now average six feet one—seven inches taller than in van Gogh’s day—and the women five feet eight.

So, the Dutch are now the big people on the planet. Well, it also seems that they may be some of the stupidest people in the world also. As a Parrot, I have long been accustomed to being around sailors. Sailors mutilate their bodies by getting tattoos, and piercing various parts of their bodies. I have noticed the youth around the world all want to be sailors or look like sailors or whatever, because all cuss like sailors and put tattoos all over their bodies and pierce places that really should not be pierced, but have the Dutch not gone a bit too far?

Now I am sure that all of these stories came from somewhere. I am positive that there should be some attribution paid to various bloggers for having found these stories. However, Mr Mouse failed to take notes. I am not too sure he actually intended that I should have poured through these various scraps to find items for use in composing this story. He may have merely intended to use them as fresh bedding. Still, if you fell that you have been robbed of your claim at having found any one of these stories, please leave a comment and I will be happy to rectify the situation.

The Bird has been left completely speechless

Well, it seems that the judges at the Ecosystem contest have reviewed our entry in light of the very danger such an award played upon the person of yours truly. Instead of an award of a ghastly mouse-killing slithering reptile, we have been upgraded to the next prize level. We have been informed that we are now to receive a flappy bird. Bird Brain is so assured that such will be a female and hopefully of the Parrot or Cockatoo variety that he is preening and sprucing up while we await the delivery truck.

While I do have your attention, I was hopeful some of you might not mind hanging a few of our lost dog posters in unobtrusive places around your blogs?

Tracking back to OTB

Lost Dog Update

Bill still has not been located. There is no local news, but there was this short email waiting in the email inbox this morning:

Dear fellow bloggers:

I am pained to have learned of the disappearance of one of the members of your blogging team. Allow me to make it known, that despite my reputation, I do not know the location of your friend, Bill Bulldog, nor have I blended him into a smoothie and consumed him. I hope that your your friend is soon located.

Most sincerely,

Glenn "Indeed" Reynolds

I do not know Mr. Reynold's personally, nor know if he resides locally in the Utter, Confusion area, nor why he would think he would be suspected. Miss Kitty seems to think he is lying and probably has Bill locked in a closest. She said we should be receiving a ransom note by carrier pigeon at any moment. I think Miss Kitty spends too much time napping on the top of the television set. Further updates will be forthcoming as information is received.

Bill is missing

We had thought that Bill was awfully quiet today. He had gone out into the back yard early this morning. It was a day with a lot of nice sunshine and no one had any worries about Bill until after it got dark. He did not come into the house to eat and as it gets later and later, I have begun to worry about him. Mr Mouse has been scurrying about the back yard for the past hour, once Miss Kitty laid down to sleep, allowing him the modicum of freedom necessary to venture forth without having to look back over his shoulder. I am hopeful he will come back with some word that Bill is fine. I shall endeavor to update you at a later time, unless we can get Bill to volunteer to give us all his explanation of why he had not cared to post anything today. It is late, however, and the lights in the house will all be doused very soon by that nameless human caretaker of ours. As such, I shall need to let you all go. Good night.

The biggest story of the day done the easy way

Sorry, but I am a bit breathless. I have had Miss Kitty right on my heels. It seems she was a bit miffed at being rebuffed by Michele in the previous post, and had her claws fully bared while trying to take her frustration out on my little gray self. I evaded her, as usual, by skittering through blogs here and there. I have seen a lot of stuff about this Air America fiasco, but I need not spend too much time explaining what that is all about. I am sure you too have gotten the story by now. Still, I really liked the simple take on The Fat Guy. Anyway, I do really hate to post and run, but I can hear Miss Kitty's hot breath right on my neck. Not literally, mind you, or I would not be here. It is my figurative way of saying she is closing in for the kill and I have got to scoot.

Appearances are more than often deceiving, it seems

RRRRoooowwwwwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Oh do I love a good cat fight! I can imagine the ladies will be bearing their claws and going for the throat before the end of this matter. And as both of the kittens are female, so that tomcats will be paying attention in abundance. Oops, wait, this kitten isn't even hissing yet. Too early for announcing the fight card on this situation, but stay tuned. I'll keep sniffing the air for signs of blood.

Speaking of blood, anyone seen that sneaky little mouse today?

_{Well, it does appear that I have made a bit of an error in assessing the situation. Miss Michele alleges that she is merely pointing something out because she is highly irked about the matter and is, in no way, attempting to instigate a battle. I shall remain hopeful that Miss Michele will pardon my error and do me no harm. I will return you to your regularly scheduled activities and I shall return to my mouse stalking.}

I will now agree to answer some of your questions

Well, it seems that my superior intelligence level has been discovered and I have been getting a lot of questions in my email. I answered the little third grader's question about the materials of which black holes are made and how old they get before they die, but I thought some of the more unusual ones I would answer publicly for the enjoyment of all the readers.

Deer Bird Bran,

I licke you. Till me moore aboat you. Doo you live up the Unite State? What state aer in Mir.. Moose and what dog and cat who's nims I frogit live//

Francois

Hi Francois. I assume by your name and great command of the English language that you are 5 years old and live in either France or Quebec. Your mommy did not assist you in any way and is not aware that you yet know how to send email. Of course, that superb display of my keen intellectual skills went nowhere toward answering your question. Yes, I and my blogging compatriots do indeed live in the United States in that mostly unknown 51st state: the Great State of Confusion. In fact, we live in the capital city of that state. I, Mr Myopic Moose, Bill the babbling Bulldog and that stupid Miss Kitty all live together with one unnamed human caretaker in the midst of Utter, Confusion.

I'm just sayin', you know?

I just laugh at some of the idiotic things humans do. Do you realized that there have been people coming to this site looking for things like this:

• black titty dancers;
• how old do black holes live for before they die; and
• what is a black hole made out of?

That first item is not something with which I am all that familiar ... at least, not since I was sold off by that sailor who thought he owned me back in 1968. The other two are items for which I likely know the answer. I would be willing to provide the answers ... for a price. Just so you will know, I don't work for chicken feed.

Mr Mouse has additionally asked me to pass along some important matters associated with this blog. He has asked that you all understand that you are free to comment and to link back to posts. Due to the sparsity of anyone doing so, he fears that there may be some misunderstanding about such being allowed. Comment a bit and link back sporadically. Would it hurt you to make the little rodent happy? Besides, you would be doing me a great favor. Those high pitched laments of his are enough to drive a parrot crazy.

"Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?"*

Yesterday, I entered our blog into the Ecosystem contest at the Truth Laid Bare. I was hopeful that we might win something extremely worthwhile, like a mortal human to collect our royalty checks and do our grocery shopping or something equally as useful. Regrettably, we were awarded a slithering reptile. Just the thought of a slithering reptile sends shivers down my spine. Can we decline the prize? Does anyone know?

*Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Tracking back to the OTB Traffic Jam, here Boss

R.I.P. Dirk --- Dec. 22, 2003 - Apr. 14, 2004

It is a sad day today. I have to go to the service for a friend of mine, Dirk. It seems Dirk met with a tragic accident. According to the information I received from his brother, Jake, Dirk had discovered a very nice piece of cheese wedged into a crevice. I fondly recall Dirk and remember that he was a very agile fellow and quite deft at manual manipulation. Witnesses say that he was doing quite well in extracting that piece of cheese from the crevice when a large metal crashed into the back of his neck from above. It snapped instantly, and those in attendance said he felt no pain. The investigators said it was a too frequently occurring accident and that the Mouse Council had been attempting to discover the cause of such for more generations that most could remember. I recall having been warned as a pip about extracting cheese from crevices and instantly appearing metal bars. I suspect that the Mouse Council is applying its regular level of effort into looking for the root cause of these types of accidents: They mouth their concern and make promises that they are doing something about it whenever anyone asks, but, in actually, they are doing nothing.

_{UPDATE: The service was nice, as expected. It was well attended. At least one quarter of the hundreds of Dirk's closest relatives in the immediate area were present. In addition, there was an equal number of his closest friends. Thankfully the number of mice who mounted the podium to say a few words in his memory were few. I was asked to speak, but felt there were already a sufficient number of friends awaiting to do so. I graciously declined the opportunity. It had more to do with my fear of public speaking and generally shy nature. As is the custom in these events, there was to be cheese served afterward at Dirk's mother's house. Everyone tried to bring a bit so as to comfort the grieving family. I brought a bit of dried cheddar that I was able to pick from the remainder of that plate of nachos next to the dumpster behind El Chicos on my way to the after service festivities. Is "festivities" the correct word? Anyway, I am glad to be home.]}

Animals are bloggers too -- and pretty successful ones at that!

Well, Mr Mouse saw an opportunity to get us a bit of publicity here on our new venture and submitted my Olympics story to the pile to be burned on this week's Bonfire of the Vanities hosted by our own benefactor Pixy Misa at his fine blog, Ambient Irony. And if that was not enough, he then submitted my great dog blogging story and his Be the Cheese post to this week's Carnival of the Vanities hosted by Boi from Troy. I was quite pleased with seeing my name up in lights in both places, but Mr Mouse earned a new nickname from the Boi from Troy who dubbed him Myopic Mouse. I am doing my best to hold in my guffaws. Myopic Mouse! Oops, I have to laugh. Sorry cheese breath! I know it is mean and I really do appreciate all the efforts you put forth to bring us a bit more readership, but it is too humorous to ignore. The absolute best thing that Mr Mouse did to assist in building up the readership today was placing a link to my dog blogging story in a comment on Silflay Hraka. I checked the referrer log and see that we got over 20 visitors from that link alone. Good job Mr Myopic Mouse! Only our third day with a counter, fifth day overall since the creation of this blog, and we have had 120 unique visitors already today. I would say we are doing well, and I must give all of the credit to that little gray creature that lives in the hole next to the sofa.

Whatever is that buzzing in my ears?

I thankfully have never worried too much about flies. They tend to hang around Bill Bulldog's biological waste most of the time, and I really have no desire to come between that nasty smelling stuff and those flies that love it. However, I have found that some humans just get a delight from swatting flies. I am unsure what the attraction is to such a useless activity, but whatever floats your boat, as Bird Brain is fond of saying. I do know that Miss Kitty was prowling around when I first accessed that link and she sure looked funny as she twisted this way and that trying to locate all those buzzing flies. It distracted her just enough that I was able to slip away to the safety of my cubby hole in the wall before she was able to determine the exact location of the buzzing sound. I played that game and swatted flies until I discovered that you didn't win any cheese for doing so, so decided I could make better use of my time searching for some way to get some cheese.

Memes, memes everywhere and not a bit of cheese to eat

As I am a bit new at this blogging business, I scurry around a lot trying to find unwatched bits of cheese be friendly and such. I scatter mouse droppings comments wherever I go. I keep coming across this word meme over and over, and I was almost sure it was a new kind of cheese. Today I found it was something else. I am still not quite sure what but there seems to be a plethora of memes to be found. Somebody even went to the trouble of compiling a list of them. The list was all that was offered, though. There was not a bit of cheese to be seen, or for that matter, nary a cracker. Before you go to all the trouble to do something to draw a lot of visitors to your site, you need to put a bit of thought into the comfort of your visitors. I find it very comforting to find a bit of sumptuous cheese when I come to visit.

It was a pretty day

It was a pretty day today and I was out in the field. I met a friend of mine, Speedy Gonzales, on his way to feast on a plate of mostly uneaten cheese nachos that had fallen out of the dumpster behind El Chicos. I, of course, eagerly joined him in such dining adventure. While we enjoying the lovely repast, Speedy told me the following joke. Bird Brain has suggested that I should not post it, because there are some who might find the stereotypes offensive. Speedy thought it was hilarious, so that is good enough for me. However, if you do find this offensive and feel the need to throw things, I am still partial to cheese.

Border Patrol

A US Border Patrol Agent catches an illegal alien in the bushes right by the border fence, he pulls him out and says, "Sorry, you know the law, you've got to go back across the border right now."

The Mexican man pleads with them, "No, noooo Senior, I must stay in de USA! Pleeeze!"

The Border Patrol Agent thinks to himself--I'm going to make it hard for him--and says, "OK, I'll let you stay if you can use three English words in a sentence."

The Mexican man of course agrees.

The Border Patrol Agent tells him, "The three words are: Green, Pink and Yellow. Now use them in one sentence."

The Mexican man thinks really hard for about two minutes, then says, "Hmmm, OK. The phone, it went Green, Green, Green--I Pink it up, and sez Yellow?"

I'd scratch his eyes out

I like this:

A Woman's Prayer:
Dear Lord, I pray for...
Wisdom, to understand a man;
Love, to forgive him.

and;
Patience, for his moods.

Because, Lord,
if I pray for Strength

I'll just beat him to death.

Tomcats can surely be some rascally varmints.

The insanity of some people

I really never have understood the love of people and their wine. Why would you ever purposely cloud your judgment with intoxicants? I am betting there are those that will say that this guy is a bird brain. That is doing a grave disservice to the entire bird species. That drunken idiot doesn't possess the brain power of a common crow, much less the extraordiary genius of a parrot like myself.

As an aside, I am betting Mr Mouse will be pleased to see that the little counter at the bottom of the page has gone over 100. He frets about such details. I, on the other hand, could care less what you do. Let's give the Devil his due, but I am better than you. You have just yet to realize such. Parrots will rule the world, just you wait and see.

Be kind to your rodents

Wow, was this ever a day. Miss Kitty is a bit sore that I had come in behind her back and added my bit to one of her earlier posts, so she has been looking to get me most of the rest of the day. I was waiting and waiting on her to stop watching my hole from a good spot underneath the couch. One of the human residents of the house opened something with that electric can opening thing and both Miss Kitty and Bill Bulldog went running to see what was inside the can. I managed to skitter across the carpet rapidly and am safely in my haven beyond the black hole. I like saying that. It seems some people thought that the name of this blog had something to do with outer space. No, people, it has to do with my ability to hide here in the dark and look about, and be free to say what I want without fear of reprisal ... well, unless Miss Kitty catches up to me.

Anyway, I wanted to say something about this stuff I skittered across running around over on Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax. It seems Nic had written about a press release from the California Department of Pesticide Regulation and put a lot of emphasis on people's mishandling of pesticides that brought about harm and injury to themselves.

The California Department of Pesticide Regulation (DPR) reminds consumers that a few simple safety precautions can prevent home and garden accidents. The following tips are especially important for spring housecleaning and yard activities:

• Read and follow all pesticide label directions closely.
• Keep pesticides in their original containers and out of children's reach.
• Look for the least-toxic solution to pest problems indoors and out.

I guess that is all fine and well, but there is just one thing that I would like to add to that. Please, please, make sure that there are not any mice present prior to using any pesticide. It has been proved that some pesticides are very hazardous to our health. I think one of the former US Surgeon Generals warned Americans about that. What you need to do if you plan on using pesticides in the house is to put a shoe box outside, full of some shredded paper and a lot of bits of cheese so that the mice will have some safe haven until the house has been cleared of pesticide fumes. You really do need to be considerate of the poor little mice of the world, you know?

While the mouse is away, the cat doth play

Oh my, oh my, I just could not stop myself.

I produced that by playing with some thing-a-ma-jig over at Wizbang. It was almost as much fun as playing cat and mouse with Mr Mouse, the little cheese snatching bandit. I have been looking for him all day, but last I heard he was skittering around in Munuvian comments. Well, I am going to sit here and stake out this hole and wait for him. I got wind he has been telling everyone that my name is Tuna Breath and when I catch him, I am going to show him a bit of ten clawed tuna breath.

Oh, thanks to my sista, Kelley, for giving this cat the clue.

Is there a doctor in the house?

It's actually pretty simple: It's what she gets instead of a penis.

What is what she gets, you ask? Just call me Dr. Kitty from now on, if you please! Of course, you could also see the real story.

Now that we have dispensed with that bit of fluff, where is that fluffy little gray ball of mouse fur? I feel like playing a few rounds of bat the mouse before I take another cat nap.

_{{Mr Mouse here, just wanting to add that if our own Miss Kitty could write as well as Wonkette, I would gladly call her Dr. Kitty and might even play bat the mouse for a few minutes, but until then, I think I will continue to call her Tuna Breath and avoid all unnecessary contact.}}

In a dog's world

Things for us dogs are never as simple as this:

I once tried to retain counsel and found out he would not take bones and old shoes for payment. He only wanted those worthless pieces of green paper. I chewed one of those once. It had a really bitter flavor and very little texture. Not a good chew. I'll stick with bones and old shoes. Oh, and the matter that I was needing counsel about turned out OK, also. The pups were not mine afterall.

Jest for you

I have a friend, a church mouse, who told me the following joke. I wanted to share it with all of you:

One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little Alex was staring up at the large plaque that hung in the foyer of the church. It was covered with names, and small American flags were mounted on either side of it.

The seven year old had been staring at the plaque for some time, so the pastor walked up, stood beside the little boy, and said quietly, "Good morning, Alex."

"Good morning, Pastor," replied the young man, still focused on the plaque. "Pastor, what is this?"

"Well, son, it's a memorial to all the young men and women who died in the service."

Soberly, they stood together, staring at the large plaque. Little Alex's voice was barely audible, trembling with fear, when he asked, "Which service, the 9:45 or the 11:15?"

A definite shortage of cheese

Well, I have been scurrying about Munuvia looking for a scrap of cheese and there was not a tidbit to be found. I did manage to leave some mouse droppings in the comments here and there. I am hopeful it might lead to a bit a curiosity, and that gobs of visitors bearing cheese will come to see the little mouse that blogs from beyond the black hole. I have to go now, though, because Miss Kitty is being catty and is wanting to play. That means that I must make myself scarce. I can hear Bird Brain squawking, which generally means that Miss Kitty is in a terrible mood. When she gets l like this, even Bill Bulldog runs for cover. I am definitely going to be somewhere beyond the black hole until her mood improves.

Looking quizzical perhaps?

I was not too sure how to answer most of the questions, but the result seemed about right. I am fashionably feline, after all.

You're the smirk,a frown-smile hybrid that's a
little bit cocky and usually associated with
evil or arrogant, but attractive people.You
probably just don't give a damn,but it's
everyone else's fault if you don't because
you're too awesome to have any real faults.


What Kind of Smile are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

What did you expect? Evil and arrogant, that is me to a T. Just ask the mouse!

Stevie chased it down.

The Democrats have gone to the dogs

I was sniffing around Munuvia and somehow found my way over onto the blog at John Kerry's website. They have a couple of dogs blogging for Kerry and begging for cash. They also are asking for people to make the following pledge:

Yellow Dog Pledge - I vote for Democratic Candidates as I believe in Democratic values such as universal health care for all Americans, choice, gun control, pro-environment, deficit reduction, equal rights, gay marriage, voting rights for Washington, DC residents (and canine equality ). (OK, we're sneaking that last one in! Shhhh!)

Sorry, but as a dog, I have to say that SparQuay and Karo Mae are the two most ignorant dogs that ever attempted to blog. Now I am not qualified to comment on the supposed Democratic values contained in that oath. I will allow the humans to hash that out in the next election. However, allow me to say right now that I am totally and 100% opposed to canine equality. I am not wanting to share my kibble and dog biscuits with any government tax collector. I like things fine, just the way they are, as far as the lives of dogs are concerned. Well, on second thought, they could do something about those harsh leash laws and cruel dog catchers.

The stuff of which dreams are made?

Excuse me, but could someone check this out and see if it says anything about getting all the cheese you can eat. I think Bird Brain is trying to pull something over on me. Speaking of pulling a fast one, did anyone hear about the gag that was pulled on one young Chinese citizen?

He didn't have any cheese to offer, but I am thankful to Munuvian Simon for having provided me a link.

Be the cheese

While Miss Kitty is taking a catnap, I was searching for some cheese and stumbled across Cheddar X. I particularly love cheddar cheese. Cheddar X is a website and not actual cheese I found, but there were a few pictures of cheese to be found. They looked very good but were not edible. If I was cheese, however, this site says I would be Bleasdale: A marbled cheddar, made by mixing plain and annatto coloured curds. It is slightly softer than traditional cheddar. That is a thoroughly yummy description of a cheese I have yet encountered.

If I was cheese, would I simply nibble myself until there was nothing left or would I no longer have a hankering for a hunk of cheese? All of this talk about cheese has made me hungry, so I am going to go scamper around and see if I can find me a scrap or two. They had a party here last night. There are some assorted pizza boxes still laying about, a literal gold mine of mouse pleasing delights.

So much for the usual restful Sunday morning

Early this morning, I was sleeping fitfully by the front door. A strange, sickly sweet smelled assailed my highly sensitive nose and unusual sounds affronted my ultra-sensitive ears. An alarm blared though my brain. Something was afoot in the front yard. I nosed the blinds up just enough to look out into the yard. The darkness and my poor eyesight disclosed nothing. I ran through the house and through the kitchen and darted out the little flap covered hole that was designed to allow my ingress and egress from the house. I ran to the fence and sniffed. I caught the pure aroma of rabbit. Our front yard had been invaded by a rabbit. I was trapped by the fence in the backyard and unable to chase it away. I did, of course, the only thing any self-respecting guard dog would do. I began to bark. I worked diligently to raise as much ruckus as possible in hopes my lord and master would open the gate and allow me to fend off the villainous intruder. As it was, my vicious alarm frightened the intruder, and it immediately departed the premises. I do take my responsibilities seriously and work long and hard to provide an adequate level of security for these premises. I hope I do not get chastised, though, because I noticed that the rabbit managed to scatter about a bit of brightly colored flotsam prior to departing. Due to the language barrier, thankfully, I will not be debriefed about this matter. If I was required to describe what little I did finally see through the slats in the fencing of that rabbit, I would have to describe a pink rabbit toting a basket. That would surely lead to another accusation that I had been licking the last few drops from those mostly emptied beer containers that never seem to make it into the trash receptacles.

A tiny tad of Easter fun pun

Q. What does it mean when the Easter Bunny arrives one day late with melted candy?

A. He probably had a bad hare day.

HAPPY EASTER!

Purrfectly pleasing prose

Yes, this CD will make quite a few titty-dancers across the nation VERY rich, it's got a hip-grinding soul that conjures up images of naughty interludes in a rusting tin shack on a sprung bed with the kind of lover you know will never become your spouse.

Why did I read this and begin to think of a sleek tomcat sitting on a fence yowling for my company? I can purr lusciously, when necessary, but I cannot conjure up such sights with the words of man like Denita of Who Tends the Fires. I purposely didn't disclose the identity of the CD to which she was referring, as there is much more to read at the place where I got that small bit.

Now before I resume my evening mouse stalking, does anyone else detect that highly noxious dog odor?

About cheese and really deep mouse ponderings

A couple of intriguing items I ran across while scurrying through the house attempting to evade Miss Kitty's playful advances. Let us begin with this one:

Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.

Now is that not highly interesting? I suppose one would really have to give that a lot of thought, wouldn't one? But even more interesting was this one:

Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.

What about all of those aliens, you know the ones that are here illegally that they talk about all the time on the television news shows? I often hear some of the news stories when I am prowling around the house looking for a nice morsel of cheese. Would they have to deal with it if they weren't from earth? You have to wake up pretty early in the morning to slip something like that by me. I wonder if they have cheese on other planets?

I guess it beats scratching yourself

Like any good dog, I love it when men and women are outside running, jumping, and throwing things. I am ready for the start of the Olympics. According to The Brains Trust, this will be a more historic event than those previous gatherings of the World's best athletes.

Races will now be kicked off with the traditional starting catapult and timed using the "ancient and venerable Athenian sundial." Derox Gaddapoulous, Olympic Supremo, explained the complex procedure that will be used to measure the competitors' times. "Through careful study of the sun and the use of the advanced abacus we are confident that we can measure an athlete's time down to the nearest day. You see if we can't."

Of course, I was really hoping they were going to have dogs competing to catch Frisbees in this one. I guess they will likely launch a private space ship into space before that occurs.

It is so very rough to have to live a dog's life, you know. Eat, sleep, chase your tail, sniff some other dog's butt, eat some more, sleep some more. Oh the stress of it all. There are some days I just wish I could die and come back as a cat.

Oh well, I guess I will have to lick whinger's face for giving me the link to the Olympic story and Ted's face for the rocket link.

What is black and white and gray all over?

I have been doing a bit of scritching and scratching. I was so hoping to make things look a bit better. I wanted to do a bit more, but I can hear Miss Kitty padding across the floor. I suspect that NOW would be a very good time for one little gray mouse to duck back in its hole for a nice nap. I am hopeful that everyone likes the paint job. I would love to know what you think about the place. I know it isn't very colorful. As we mice are colorblind, we prefer things in black and white and some shades of gray. Well, except for cheese ... we just like it to be plentiful and of any color.

Something to make your tail feathers quiver

You know how your inbox fills up with so much SPAM and stuff, but you still have to go through the subjects just to make sure you don't delete something important. Well, this morning, I find among the ones asking me if my penis is disappointing me or if I need to refinance my mortgage, etc. with the subject line: "Bulletin, April 2004" from the SN World Foundation. OK, so I figure maybe it is something important, although I suspect it is likely something wanting me to donate some money to assist some people in Nigeria or something, right? Well, this is the body of the letter:

New Technology for the Third World, April 2004

Production Mini-plants in mobile containers. Worldwide Partners program

SN World Foundation will supply to countries and developing regions the technology and necessary support for production in series of Mini-plants in mobile containers (40-foot). The Mini-plant system is designed in such a way that all the production machinery is fixed on the platform of the container, with all wiring, piping, and installation parts; that is, they are fully equipped... and the mini-plant is ready for production."

More than 700 portable production systems: Bakeries, Water purification, Dehydrated food, Steel Nails, Fruit juice preparation, Tire Retreading, Reinforcement Bar Bending for Construction Framework, Sheeting for Roofing, Ceilings and Façades, Plated Drums, Aluminum Buckets, Injected Polypropylene Housewares, Pressed Melamine Items (Glasses, Cups, Plates, Mugs, etc.), Mufflers, Construction Electrically Welded Mesh, Plastic Bags and Packaging, Medical assistance mobile units, Sanitary Material, Hypodermic Syringes, Hemostatic Clamps, etc.

SN World Foundation has started a Co-investment program for the installation of small Assembly plants to manufacture in series the Mini-plants of portable production on site, region or country where required. One of the most relevant features is the fact that these plants will be connected to the International Trade System, with access to more than 50 million raw materials, products and services and automatic transactions for world trade.

Due to financial reasons, involving cost and social impact, the best solution is setting up assembly plants on the same countries and regions, using local resources (labor, some equipment, etc.) SN World Foundation participates at 50% (fifty percent) for investment of each Assembly plant.

If you are interested in being a partner in your country or region, you can send your CV to: SN World Foundation (click here) Worldwide Partners Program

By Sarah Mathews, Manager Program

I have been around a few different manufacturing companies over my life and can see the possibilities of such, but I am alos a skeptic ... so my first step is to run it through http://www.snopes.com. I came up empty. I next ran a search on it through my favorite search engine http://www.alltheweb.com/. BINGO! I came up with several hits. One link especially catches my eye: SCiNet · The World Trade SystemThat rings as a possibly legitimate site. I go there and it looks very professional. There is some information about the container manufacturing matter and right at the bottom of the story is this quote:

Production Mini-plants in mobile containers
"...Really, two Unique Systems" —World Trade News

. Now it appears that some major Trade Magazine site has checked it out also. I am very interested in seeing what they had to say about the matter so I go to their site. I notice the link for the page to which I was directed and me surprised to see that the link is the index page for the site and the date for the story is April 10, 2004. In addition, the who page appears to be centered on this same matter. Most of the other links on the page downloaded .pdf documents or were email links. Still, it might just be that it is just as it has been made to appear, that this is a major innovation that is only now being promoted. That appears to be the way the idea is being promoted, right? No cigar, there -- the entire text of the email which I received today is contained on a site called Bulletin Bulgaria Analytica with the date of September 5, 2002 on it. Also, The Nigerian Canadian Board of Trade & Commerce seems to think it is a great investment idea. Now is anyone as surprised as I that there is actually such a thing as The Nigerian Canadian Board of Trade & Commerce? All I can say, is that if you live in a third world country and have a pocket full of money ready to start your own business ... you better read the fine print on this deal ... or of course, you could let your parrot do it for you. Awwwwk! Bird Brain wants a Dorito!

What smells like tuna in here?

Is girlfriend ever whack?

Now, where-o where did that little mouse go? I gave up a nice nap in the sunshine just to come spend a few minutes of quality time playing with him. Mice: You can't live with 'em, and you can't have no real fun without 'em.

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse

One of the perks of living inside of the walls of a house is that you can access all of the wiring. I tapped directly into the cable system. I am easily able to access really cool stuff like this short Ninja FLASH animation. Although the actual depiction of the untimely death of Frank J. was a bit blase' in the action department, the work of the animal trainer was very impressive.

A real bit of Limberger Limburger

I was prowling around for a bit of juicy cheese and ran over by Susie's place. As usual, that piratical cat in her title graphic started chasing after me. I defty darted into the first hole I found. I ran smack dab into a really foul smelling hunk of something when I came out on the other side of the wall onto Roxanne rant(lightning bolt)rave(halo). I should have expected something of this ilk, however, from someone who sells advertisements for the Weekly World News some alternative newsweekly.

Coming soon

Hello everyone ... thanks to a couple of munuvians (I think that is the correct word) I have gotten to know, I have begun reading some weblogs here and there. I decided to try my hand as doing one, as well. Just a bit about me:

I am just a little mouse sitting in the background. I am a bit older than most but not as old as some. I have been around longer than most cheese you can find now. You usually do not see me, but I am usually watching everything that is happening around me. I seldom say much because I do not want to draw attention to myself. In my real life, there are always too many fat cats, hawks, weasels and a whole array of other worthless varmints looking to take a bite out of me. I will just sit back inside this little hole in the wall and have my say from the other side. I am hopeful you will enjoy what comes from beyond the black hole.

As well as my friends Susie and Jim, I feel I really need to thank Mr. Pixy Misa for all of his assistance. I am hopeful that all of you will give me a little time to get the weblog churning along at top speed. I have some work to do here and there to spruce up this side of the hole before I am ready to get some painters to redo the walls on the other side. I will do my utmost to hold up my end of the bargain and hope that it proves to be enough to cause several of you to drop by on a fairly regular basis to drop a few crumbs my way.

Before I scurry off for now, allow me to mention that I expect several of the other denizens of this household to join me in this venture. One or two of them might prove to be a bit nutty. Miss Kitty is so completely out of kilter, she often thinks I am supposed to be her supper.

Goodbye for Now

or,
Pardon My Gauntlet

Ogden Nash

Bring down the moon for genteel Janet;
She's too refined for this gross planet.
She wears garments and you wear clothes,
You buy stockings, she purchases hose.
She say That is correct, and you say Yes,
And she disrobes and you undress.
Confronted by a mouse or moose,
You turn green, she turns chartroose.
Her speech is new-minted, freshly quarried;
She has a fore-head, you have a forehead.
Nor snake nor slowworm draweth nigh her;
You go to bed, she doth retire.
To Janet, births are blessed events,
And odors that you smell she scents.
Replete she feels, when her food is yummy,
Not in the stomach but the tummy.
If urged some novel step to show,
You say Like this, she says Like so.
Her dear ones don't die, but pass away;
Beneath her formal is lonjeray.
Of refinement she's a fount, or fountess,
And that is why she's now a countess.
She was asking for the little girls' room
And a flunky though she said the earl's room.

A quick pipsqueak from Mr Mouse: The preceding poem was, in actuality, posted by Mr. Pixy Misa under my name when he set up this little secure and comfortable cubby hole for me to use when I need to hide from those mean monsters who desire to devour me. If I have been wanting to post a poem, I might have picked one of the poems from either this post or this post.