Perhaps he’s gone off the deep end

While trying to find out where the phrase “lost your marbles” came from, I found this article on the Oxford Dictionaries blog that ties together lumber, furniture, Virginia Woolf and Nicholson Baker. There are some astounding leaps in the progression of the idiom in the theory being proposed, so astounding that they remind me of the origin of “raspberry” (in lieu of “Bronx Cheer”). So that’s making me figure that the theory must be correct. Slang never makes sense.

Why was I looking up “lost your marbles”? Well…

Neorealism

No, I didn’t post a cartoon this weekend. Benny and I had an unexpectedly busy weekend starting Friday night. I’m still a little grumpy about the whole incident so I don’t want to go into a lot of detail, but it basically started with a strange kitten finding its way into our house, then

then

then

then

(photo not available)

So yeah, we found a kitten and lost her again before we could find her owner or whatever. All this after I had been feeding a vacationing friend’s cat who runs away from me whenever I show up to feed her. Cats hate me now.

Forget cats. I’m only making friends with delinquent monkeys from now on.

I guess I shouldn’t make the assumption that this monkey is a delinquent. Maybe he’s a hardworking monkey who was driven to desperation by circumstances beyond his control.

Hang out with me, monkey. If you don’t run away from me, I promise not to call the authorities about the bicycle.

 

Curb appeal

Directly across the street from this

I noticed this:

Guys, if you lose a dog, you might want to check around here. It seems to be some sort of canine vortex or something. Be sure to watch your step.

Cat on a warm tile roof

If you’re friendly and approachable, you may not have much in common with Maggie the Cat, Milo, but I will still endeavor you to jump off the roof. Jump off it! Cats can jump off roofs and land on their four feet uninjured. Even that wreck Brick says so.

Coming attractions

Churro*.
Named for a Portuguese snack.
French bulldog.
Living in Silver Lake.
What happens
when Churro feels the clash of his cultures
and has to make…
THE FRENCH ESCAPE
?

Rated PG-13 for language and extreme tongue situations.

*Benny learned his name was Churro from the Nextdoor Silver Lake group. Thanks for being there so we don’t have to, Benny.

Anchored Hawkings

You might think that I’m posting this lost cat notice because the cat’s name is unusual. Or because all of the last minute hand-edits with sighting locations indicate the owner has been just one step behind a very wily character. Or that “Please help me find my kitty before moving” is kind of a weird imperative sentence to say to a stranger.

But I’m actually posting it because of something you can’t tell from the photo – the fact that this was taped to the ground. On a driveway into a Chipotle parking lot, to be specific. Maybe it was taped there by the owner in the hopes that Hawkings would see it and feel guilty and come home. An interesting tactic that I haven’t seen before.

Made for walking

And that’s just what they did. One of these days these boots are gonna get this kitten hid.

It’s complicated

Involved can mean a lot of different things: in a relationship, complex, preoccupied with, confusing. I wonder which meaning applies here.

Not sure who originally took this photo; found via Drew Magary’s Twitter feed

May be covered in mint jelly

If you enjoy deadpan humor and you’re not listening to the Beef & Dairy Network podcast, get thee to some earbuds pronto. Not only is it “the number one podcast for those involved or just interested in the production of beef animals and dairy herds,” but it’s one of the few podcasts on the Maximum Fun network not hosted by a member of the McElroy extended family. (Note to Maximum Fun: too many McElroys.)

I bring up the Beef & Dairy Network today because my friend Mara found this lost cat notice that seems to back up the BDN assertion that lamb is a dangerous meat that leads to all sorts of social problems and deviancy:

Bosco would be safe at home now if he weren’t on the lamb. Sure, he looks fine in this photo, but he’s probably unrecognizable by now; he may have moved on to mutton. If you see happen to see any feline who looks to be strung out on kebabs, please call Tom or Geoff.

 

I’m your Huckleberry hound

Don’t be alarmed.

This fuzzy gargoyle is named Huckleberry and he has an Instagram feed. Thank you, Huckleberry. Thank you for all you do.

I would give a photo credit for the “don’t be alarmed” notice but I don’t know where this originally came from. Now I’m pondering the etiquette of providing a link to a twitter feed that doesn’t give photo credits. I don’t think I need to provide that link.