Why Did I Eat That?

Have you noticed that April's almost over? Spring hasn't noticed... it's snowing right now. Because of the unseasonable, unconscionable weather, I didn't want to walk far to get lunch today, so I went to the restaurant that is closest to our office... McDonald's. Clearly convenience means more to me than survival, because when I eat a McDonald's burger, it spends the next week assaulting my insides and kicking the crap out of my colon. McDonald's and snow have joined forces to kill me, and I'm too lazy and cold to do anything about it.

I've always enjoyed how a cartoon character's stomach will take the shape of whatever it eats. I believe my own stomach shares this characteristic... and if that is the case, I must have recently eaten an oversized bowl of jiggly goo. I've recently begun a new diet... I'd like to drop about 20 pounds in the next few months. I realize that a McDonald's burger isn't exactly "diet" food, but come on! It's snowing... in April! I quickly resumed my diet right after lunch.

Freak of Nature

The platypus is a goofy-looking freak. As true as that is, I say it with some reluctance, knowing that I've offended other animals in the past with commentary that was much less insulting. Did you know there is no universally accepted plural form of the word "platypus." No plural? What kind of thing can't be addressed unless it's alone? Only a platypus, which Wikipedia describes as an "egg-laying, venomous, duck-billed, beaver-tailed, otter-footed mammal." That's right... not a duck... not a beaver. Just a venomous, egg-laying grab-bag of animal parts in one egg-laying mammal. You are a freak, platypus. And so are you, other platypus. Man, I wish you guys had a plural.

Our Pet Fish

We went to our nephew's birthday party recently, and instead of taking home a party hat or some leftover cake, we were sent home with a goldfish. I'm not sure we really needed a pet, but as long as we were getting one as a party favor, I'm glad we got the easiest, most boring, least rewarding kind of pet. My wife and I had a conversation about our new fish that night:

Lovely wife: What should we name our fish?
Me: Steven Tyler.
Lovely wife: No - that's a dumb name.
Me: Try telling that to Steven Tyler.
Lovely wife: Well, I wouldn't tell him that, because it's not a dumb name for a person.
Me: I meant you should tell that to the fish.

For the next day or two, she tried calling the fish by other names, but I held fast to "Steven Tyler," and eventually the name stuck. She tried to justify it by saying that Steven Tyler (the person) has lips that are kind of like a fish's lips, but that's over thinking it. Everything doesn't always need to make sense. I know I don't.