It’s Thursday. It’s Random. It’s Random Thursday.
It’s a loom. Made out of LEGO.
You would think this would get boring after the first thirty seconds. But it actually doesn’t.
Beats those elastic-loop potholder frames by miles, doesn’t it?
WHERE ARE MY OCTOPUS POEMS?
I’ve had three wonderful people e-mail me their contest poems, but in the comments of yesterday’s post, there is naught but whistling wind.
Where is the love? Where is the Octopodean verse?
You have until midnight Chicago time tonight! There’s a free mug at stake!
Go forth and find rhymes for eight, ink, calamari, squishy, and Blue-Rings of Death!
An alternate theory explaining the disappearance of socks
and why cats are so interested in sitting on one’s clean laundry.
You know those kittens are going to catch it for messing up the drawers.
That’s why adult cats are so cynical.
Dropping the Pigeon
I’m probably going to have to retitle Pigeon Drop, as there is no longer a literal pigeon drop scam in it and the metaphor is a bit of a stretch.
A Touch of
What are you waiting for? Go write an octopus poem!