In Which I Ramble

Well, internet, I was planning on writing something awesome. Truly. No, really. I had grand designs swirling majestically through my mind.
But, well, then I got distracted, as one does, by Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law. And I forgot everything I had thought of earlier. Zoom, right out the window.

So, instead, I'm going to tell you the story about the goblin who lives in my closet and messes with my clothing at night. Poor Miss Lucy, who is often subject to my strange rantings, has already heard my story and she thinks she might have the same breed of goblin in her apartment. Maybe we have a goblin infestation in our building. It could be worse, I suppose; could be cockroaches.

Anyway, I have a goblin in my closet. For the sake of the story I have decided to name her McGill (but everyone knows her as Nancy). It is my belief that through some kind of strange goblin sorcery, McGill alters the inseam of my trousers by a centimeter each night. All of my work trousers are now at least 3 inches shorter than when I bought them. This is rather embarrassing for me, because I don't own a normal pair of socks. Now everyone at work can see my odd socks because my trousers are too short. (They are the sort of respectable people who only own all black socks. To them, my multi-color striped socks are simply uncouth.)

I can't figure out why McGill might be doing this, except that goblins are generally mischievous, but I am hoping that I can bribe her with bread and sweet milk. If she accepts these gifts, I think I might try to use her services for good. She is a fantastic seamstress; I can't see the evidence of her alterations at all.

I'll keep you all informed as to whether my attempts are successful, and I'd welcome any tips from you clever internet folk who may have dealt with goblin tailors in the past.

A Jump to the Left?

Well, then. Here we are at the end of a decade. A momentous occasion, to be sure, especially considering how quickly this year has passed. Riff Raff was correct; "It's astounding, time is fleeting."

So, dear reader, here is the question. Will we let madness take control?

I am all in favor of a little madness, a touch of nonsense. Without it, life would be incredibly dull. Take, for instance, the necklace I got for Christmas. It would be easy enough to simply say "thank you" when someone remarks on the fun eccentricity having a stylized octopus around my neck. That would be polite and, quite frankly, boring. Instead, I have taken to saying I have been inducted into the Cult of Cthulhu. This has rewarded me with many expressions of the "wtf?" variety (which I must say are absolutely hilarious). But I will continue to say this in the hope that one day I will be rewarded with a knowing nod, a wry smile, and a hastily mumbled "Cthulhu fhtagn."

And thus we come to the crux of my post. While you are busy plotting out your resolutions for the coming year I hope you will make room for a little bit of madness in your life. After all, according to that famous candy maker, a little nonsense now and then is treasured by the wisest men. Take time to daydream, be silly and spontaneous, and, occasionally, do the Time Warp.