"To dare every day to be irreverent and bold. To dare to preserve the randomness of mind, which in children produces strange and wonderful new thoughts and forms. To continually scramble the familiar and bring the old into new juxtaposition."
~ Gordon Webber

Okay...yeah...so the point of the quote is that this post is going to be loooonnnng...and full of randomness.
So grab a cup of coffee and get comfortable.
Oh...and you might wanna keep some wet-wipes handy...either that or don't take a sip of coffee prior to reading my Dumb-Ass-Medicine-Move-Of-The-Day.
Comprende'?
Good.


So, when I thought about this post, I originally thought I would begin with the good news about my first International Rescue/Foster Kitty...and about what a wonderful, little kitty he is...
This is Neo:

















He's about a year old. Beautiful, shiny, healthy coat of fur. He was very afraid and confused the first few days and hid under the couch, coming out at night to eat and go potty.
Since I'm up and down at all hours of the night on most nights, I began to sit on the couch and 'meow', or in his case, "Mow-Mow" back and forth with him for 10-15 minutes at a time before going back to bed...thus winning his trust that I'm actually a safe, okay human that meant him no harm.
On third day, he finally ventured onto my lap and we had a good petting/purring session. (Him...not me...that comes later. Heh heh.)
Anyhoo, I quickly determined that he's essentially a lapcat...trapped in a scaredy cats body.
Hopefully, I can break him of this.
But, yeah....he's cute...loving...playful:
















He figured out that Moby is a cool dog and also means him no harm:





















Yep...all was going well...in fact...it couldn't have been going better...
Until this:





















Go ahead...click on the next one to enlarge it and take a look at allllllll the tiny little specks on the tile:





















I had already cleaned the kitchen floor, which was COVERED, and then thought of the camera...but the hallway was still a helluva mess...yes...the mess continued well into the hallway and to the front door.
Yeah. Those little specks...are chocolate cake.
Apparently, he doesn't like to eat chocolate cake at midnight...but he likes to counter-surf and knock it to the floor.... and then have a rousing game of soccer, wherein he plays every conceivable position, thus whittling the cake down to mere crumbs.
Luckily...the MobyLover was locked in the bedroom with us, thus insuring his innocence from conspiracy and/or from being framed by the cat of course.
Little schmuck. It's a good thing I love cats and rescuing them at all hours of the day. Particularly, at 6am in the morning...when chocolate-soccer-cake-games come to an end.

Next up...remember this picture from when I visited TheRammerHammer back in December?






















Yeah...well...I found the perfect food product to accompany it:




















Yep. Horlicks.
Now if you're like me...and I know that some of you sick-minded readers out there are...BeejcoughSamcoughHilcoughJeanne...you instantly wondered...well, what do Hor(s)lick here in the Middle East.
Alas...wonder no more...I found the answer to that question, the very same night...
Hor(s)lick...Hairy Balls of course:


















Yeah. A platter of Hairy Balls.
I can't say, "I thought I'd never see the day"...because it's just...unimaginable to begin with.
Okay...so they aren't really Hairy Balls...they're actually an Indian fruit of some sort.
The kids saw them and wanted to try them.
Although, once home... they opted for the chocolate-chip treats before bed tonight.
Maybe tomorrow night.
Me...uh...yeah...I don't think so...
The only hairy balls I indulge with are accompanied by a foot long, wrist thick RammerHammerCockThankYouVeryMuch.


Oh yes! This reminds me...
Recently overheard on an elevator:
Woman ~ "Dang it. We forgot to get some KY today, there's hardly any left in the bottle."
Man ~ "Shiiiit...who needs a new bottle of KY? If there's some left in the old bottle...that's what we got the spatula for!"


Alright...alright...I'll tone it down.
There's somethin' good in the water on this side of the world.
See my nails??:
















My nails are growing like they have never grown before...even pre-cancer.
My nails have never been this long and strong before in my life.
This is what my nails looked like when I had fake, acrylic nails years ago.
And, since I've been here...none of them have turned black from the chemo side-effects and/or fallen off like they were still doing before I came here!
A sweet bonus indeed.
I dig it. I love them.
TheRammerHammer on the other hand...doesn't not.
Apparently when he sweats/showers/swims in the pool on the roof...he becomes very, very aware of the scratches on his back.
Ooops. Did I say this topic was going to be un-sexual?
My bad. Sorry.


Ah...yes...and now...I present to you...
My DumbAss Medicine Move Of The Day:
(Can't you just hear the trumpets in your head right now???)

















See those two bottles? Yeah...one of the is hairspray and one of them is underarm deoderant.
Guess what I did?
Yep...I reached into that there basket, and absent-mindly grabbed the hairspray and used it as underarm deoderant.
But wait...it gets better...it took me I don't know how many minutes to put two and two together as to why my damn arm pits were sticking to my torso.
Yeah. Go ahead...have your good laugh.
Ya schmuck.


And getting back to the topic of elevators...
Often is the time when ya get on an elevator over here and the stench from those that apparently only shower once a year is still lingering, waiting patiently to offend your nose like it's never been offended before.
Seriously...it's not just someone worked out, played 18 holes of golf and drove home in a car with no airconditioning B.O.
It's an unbelievable, someone hasn't-showered-since-310A.D. stench.
What am I getting at you ask?
Well...I stood at the sink the other day, washing dishes, like I do... (not the same day I used the hairspray under my arms)...and kept smelling a hint of that very stench every so often.
And I kept looking around behind me, to see if TheRammerHammer and the boys had come back down from the pool and perhaps I didn't hear them come in the door...
But nay...after a couple of minutes...I realized the stench was coming from me.
And I humbly learned that one can shower...and use two kinds of deoderant (not hairspray)...and smell like vanilla roses when leaving the apartment to take MobyLover on a 15 minute potty-walk...
But 15 minutes, walking in the mid-day sun...in the desert...is enough to give one a faint sunburn and put one in the beginning stages of the haven't-showered-since-310A.D. stench.
Hence...anyone have an awesome deoderant to suggest?


Ohhhh....here's a little one:





















The one on the bottom is what the people here consider a spatula.
The one on the top is what normal people...and when I say 'normal'...I mean me... and I use the term loosely of course...consider a spatula.
Took us 1 month, 17 days and I don't know how many different stores in that time-frame to find what I consider a real freakin' spatula.
Made my freakin' month.
What can I say...I'm easy to please.


And if you have any brains at all, you've figured out that the above 'elevator conversation' is a farce.
Fine. I'll come clean.
That conversation was between TheRammerHammer and myself while going to bed the other night.
I love how much he makes me laugh.
I hurt...I puke...and yet, this is the most fun I've ever had in a relationship before.
We're both goofballs and dorks and we say the silliest, goofiest things.
It's nice not to be the only one laughing at my jokes and one-liners...if ya know what I mean?!?!


Well...I can't have such a long, wonderful post without section dedicated solely to a MobyLover...so here's your daily dose of Moby...
This is Moby lounging by the pool on the roof with TheRammerHammer and the boys:



















And this is a Moby that's good and ready to go back to the airconditioned apartment 10 minutes later:

















Ain't he the most cutest BassetHound! ever in the history of BassetHounds!???
(Um...excuse me...but you did just follow the MyBrandOfCrazy Handbook Rule #247 that states, and I quote: "All readers are indeed permitted to read any/all MobyLover post sections silently, particularly if at work (Beej)...However, upon coming to the printed word of "Hound!", all readers are required to verbally say the word "Hound!" aloud and with a thick German accent."...end quote.
Okay...I thought you did...I was just checkin'. :)


Alrighty then...
Last but not least...
I'm gonna kill two birds with one stone here...
Wait...that's not right...we all know that I would never kill a bird...
But...well...this is about a bird...so I naturally just went there...
And it's about my first-ever-balcony-garden too.
This was the picture from last month when I got my first little starter plants:

















And this...this is what they look like 3 1/2 weeks later:


















So yeah...they're coming along.
I've only lost one Lantana plant thus far.
I must confess though...I smuggled some Miracle-gro over in my luggage.
I.Heart.Miracle-gro.

You'll also notice in the above picture that I've acquired a little bird house/feeder.
I.Heart.TheRammerHammer.
And The Dove...has claimed it as her own.
Yesterday, she didn't budge when the Schqwauker came 'round.
And the Schqwauker opted to get some water from the bowl and pass on the food for the time being.



Oh! I was wrong...that wasn't the last thing.
TheRammer and I, decided that, "Ken lee...tulibu dibu douchoo"...is going to be our wedding vows to one another.
We think...somehow...it just captures the essence of what is "us".
Go here: http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ken+leee&search_type=&aq=f
and perhaps you'll see why...




And...to borrow a line from Porky Pig..."Th-th-th-th-that's all folks!"




Hope everyone is well:)



(P.S.: Please excuse any/all spelling/grammatical errors...it's one of those nights...it's currently 3:10am in the morning. Thankyouverymuch...again.)