The eyes have it.
But do more eyes have more? How many eyes are enough to make what is seen undeniable? With one eye your initial perception is flat. With two eyes you gain depth. But do more than two eyes give more depth? Is it not enough to see both sides of a thing – do you need to know what’s above and below? In front and behind? Continue reading
My beautiful wife and I went for a little walk yesterday.
Heh. Continue reading
In botany’s catechism, catercorner from the cactus is the catkin. It may seem a petty distinction – you want to pet the one and distinctly not the other – but they are as thoroughly unalike as anyone would like. Continue reading
A hopper, of course, hops, just as a shopper shops and a chopper chops and a whopper… um, whops, I guess. And a bopper bops and a lopper lops and a popper pops and a topper tops and copper… oh. Whoops.
But then what does a whopper of a copper hopper do?
A hopper could, of course, be part of a rabbit response team. But in truth hoppers are not often seen to hop. A person who is a hopper is one who cutshops, as in the conical catkins that flavour beer, which have no relation (that we know of) to the action of hopping (aside from what you do while waiting for the washroom after a pint or two of IPA). And when they drop their plucked hops into a hopper that feeds into the machinery, that hopper probably doesn’t hop either. Continue reading
Alana doesn’t like this word, but I do.
What does it signify, bezelless? Is it a cross between a gazelle, a wildebeest, and a lioness? (No… and I’m not sure how that would work… sounds like a gory scene in the Okavango delta.) Is it a busy buzzy little demon, a minion of Beelzebub? (…n… …o…) Is it your friend’s German friend who joined you for the local Oktoberfest and was unimpressed? (Probably not… and that might seem a transgression of Gesellschaft.) Is it the word bevel as seen reflected in a pond with ripples from a dropped stone? (Well… maybe…)
What it is for sure is the kind of sports watch I prefer. Continue reading
Sometimes rectitude gives way to what-the-hecktitude. There are times when you just can’t even. Your even-canning factory has burnt down to the ground. You don’t want this, don’t want that, especially don’t want that other thing. When the world’s pain-in-the-necktitude has raised your calling-for-the-chequetitude, when your attitude has no more latitude for platitude, you have had a peak in your nectitude. Continue reading
A good neighbour makes a good neighbourhood. Right? Continue reading