The search for WMD's... and other stuff

As it has been five days since my last post, this one will cover that time frame, so if you have a short attention span I recommend you tie yourself to your chair.

Starting my writing lapse the resident rodent died. Her name was Cinderella (I finally named one in a nerdy way, in latin that means little ash) she was an ash-gray hamster, and a nice one at that. She had been getting slower in her age, and I was the last one she peaked out at before curling up in her little wicker hut for the last time. This was sad, she was a good hamster, but not that sad as she was... probably the sixth one in succession here at this house. As the tradition seems to suggest, the next step was to get a new one. She was my sister's so this time my brother went to get one... Well... he came back with two. He got two miniature Chinese dwarf hamsters (possibly twin brothers) as they are larger than normal dwarf hamsters, but still technically a breed of dwarfs (so close to being miniature giant space hamsters... I'll keep hoping). Now it is time for the ceremony of naming, where everyone in the house starts calling them different things until the rest accept one and go with it. The current running holds "Drake and Josh" by my sister, "Mike and Spike" by my brother and "Dwalin and Balin" of course by me as they are both dwarfs and brothers (read The Hobbit... or watch it, it's on its way).

A good deal of my nights these past few days have been spent playing "The Last Remnant" which is an interesting game. It's not great, but its not bad. It kinda reminds me of what I would envision a modern version of Chrono Trigger or Final Fantasy Mystic Quest would be like. It's got some problems (like the ability to permanently miss quests and items if you're not careful, and battle damage is way too high as battles can be decided in a single turn) but is otherwise good enough to keep playing.

Oh, found this, its funny.

Another thing I've been doing in my spare time is generic physical labor around the neighborhood. I feel like Hercules and his labors as I'm doing similar stuff (well except for the lion) (... and yes my butt does look like chiseled stone thank you very much). I've been power washing houses (that's like redirecting a river to clean a stables right?) and other outdoor cleaning activities since my dear mother has told the neighbors that I need a job. Well, thanks mom, but I need a career, not to earn a measly hourly wage while doing dangerous things on a roof without insurance...

Getting more recent, I felt manly the other day. I changed my oil... Err.. the oil in my car, by hand (with some help from a man-friend). I've changed oil before, but never on my own girl. It was going well, we found the plug screw and she drained like a champ (except for totally soaking my whole arm) then the job was to find and replace the filter. Seemed easy enough, there was one right next to the oil pan off to the side of the engine block. Started unscrewing it and wouldn't you know it, my car started bleeding profusely. So... now I know where the transmission fluid filter is! As it turns out the oil filter is up under the right wheel axle behind the coolant tank and next to the valve train... After cutting myself and my friend several times, I broke off the sharp jagged knife like piece of broken plastic that was in our way, sending bits of metal and plastic flying in all directions... I don't know what that was supposed to do or be... but it's gone now. That was all good except of course being located where it is made it nearly impossible to reach by hand, and on top of that it was tightened with super-human strength. It took many long minutes of me grumbling to muster my own super-human strength and get the dang thing off. Who would design something that way, seriously.

On sunday I received the pen of legacy... Well, a set of pens that my grandfather gave to my father when he graduated, and go back further than that. I got a nice fountain pen that my dad has only ever used to buy houses and sign marriage contracts... So this means I need to use it before my sister beats me to getting married...

But speaking of marriage, now I can finally transition to the topic of the post. My hunt for WMD's. See, recently I have begun a quest to find WMD's in a hostile land. They seem to be hidden from me, but I am sure they exist. I just may have to turn over every rock and look in every cave before I find them though. See, women of my dreams, or WMD's as I like to call them, only reside in public, and being women, reside in a hostile and barbaric state. I may be eaten, I may loose a limb, I have already admitted to loosing my balls (yes I have lots of balls, or so I've been told) to one in the past, but I shall not fail. I know that a WMD exists somewhere out there, I just need to cornice the senate of voices in my head to continue the campaign to find them... But luckily, after talking it over with my sister (I spent all of last night driving her back to college) she agrees with my current direction, and for her own personal self-centered reasons fully endorses my planned course of action. Also from this, I have learned that SHE is single... yes... that is a TLA as well (three letter acronym), but I'm not telling you what it stands for...