Fifteen Hundred blog posts, and not one mulberry to speak of.

Of course, I'm absolutely sure that you, dear reader, upon first glance at the above map said to yourself "Self, that is undoubtedly a political map of Europe in the year 1500."

And bien sûr, you are correct. I'm proud of you. "But why?", you may be asking yourself.

Well... as I logged onto Blogger, I noticed the dashboard statistic stating that as of my last post, I had written 1,499 blog entries. So here we are. 'TREASURES' POST ONE THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED!!

Seriously. Have I nothing better to do with my time?

---

I have noticed a disturbing trend in the evolution of the English language. Before, it was the gross abuse of the word "literally", as in those irritating motherfuckers who literally use the word literally in, like literally, every goddamn sentence.

This blight has begun to wane. I am pleased. But, as Kathleen Turner said in 'Romancing the Stone' "... but bastards have brothers who seem to ride on forever."

The phrase in question: "At the end of the day"

I mean, seriously! Listen to NPR. This toxic virus of an idiom has infected English speakers everywhere, from China to America to India to Iraq to South Africa. More often than not, twice in one sentence!!

OMG, it was such a wonderful way of stating a summary... a boiling down of nonsense into a simple continuum... but it's been thoroughly abused ad-fucking-nauseum!

---

It has been brought to my attention that on a recent road trip involving Dark Haired Girl, Blonde Haired Girl, and their late teenage daughters, that a particular game was played whereby the participants in turn add one word upon another to form sentences. It was also brought to my attention that subjects of said game (played in a car full of bored women) were almost exclusively of an, *ahem* adult nature...

... often (but thankfully not centering around) the topic of my less-than-impressively-sized member. Most men would freak out and start begging the nearest plastic surgeon for possible options, but I actually am kind of ok with this. See... I once found a dusty long-expired condom in one of Dark Haired Girl's junk baskets. It was a Trojan Magnum...

X L

I unwrapped the damned thing and rolled it over my hand and forearm, nearly half way to my elbow. Upon interrogating Dark Haired Girl on this, she stated to me flatly that before I was in the picture, just about every guy she'd been with was Magnum XL-sized.

Any normal man would freak the hell out at that point, but not I.

Instead, I realized that I am a dorky white guy of statistically average size (yes, I've measured and researched), and yet have managed to satiate and otherwise blow the mind of a woman who has had chewed up and spit out other men with dicks enormous enough to make a porn star blush with envy. And Blonde Haired Girl jumped to my defense with just that reasoning during the story game.

You tell me that isn't one HELL of an ego booster for I, your friend and humble stud muffin.

---

On a more sensitive note, there has been a baby robin living in the vicinity of my back patio. I first saw it in a tree, and got a wonderful closeup photo of it. Just a few days ago, it was perched on the patio railing. Again I grabbed the camera as Momma Robin was nearby with a mulberry in her beak, and I stood perfectly still so as not to spook her, and to take pictures as she hopped closer and fed her baby the berry. Then, only two days ago, it was perched on the bird bath. As Shaggy and I walked by only inches away, the little avian bambino just watched us walk past, and then looked up at me and opened its bright yellow mouth as if to say, "Well, don't just stand there. Feed me something."

I have to say, its trust in me was deeply moving. I felt really guilty for not having any treat to give.

---

Uh-oh. Lightning. Time to log off and unplug the computer.

G'night.