Felix Domesticus

I marvel at the little food processor I got for Christmas. He’s just a little guy – but when I put stuff in him, he rumbles and whirrs, and then it’s all done! He even grinds his own MEAT! I find that amazing. Amazing, and wonderful. I could grind up any damn thing in that: nuts, meat, fruit, meat, vegetables, meat! It’s even RED, like a little grinding rocket! I loves it.

Strange thing, this kitchen business. My mother’s kitchen has so many more toys in it, so much more room, so many opportunities for grinding meats, and yet I never really cared for cooking in it – but now that I have my own little rented space, the kitchen section of every store has become my favorite. This has given me all the proof I need that people are really like piñata: give them what they want and you can tame them and then bash them for candy!

Are hermaphrodites allowed in the Olympics? And if so, would they have to compete as men, since they have more testosterone in them than is allowed in women?

Wait, don’t go, little blog piñatas! Pictures, I have pictures! Curt and I went to look at Christmas lights in Chino:

Foghorn Leghorn, and a little jittery monkey say (he says he says) Happy Christmas!

And what Christmas display would be complete without an Elvis Bear display? EH!?

I am off to watch some Monk on my new VHS/DVD-R, and then nap, and then bake, and then play a video game or three. ;)