Battling the Monday Blues…


with coffee


and a Cummin’s diesel purring at the idle in my lap

My evening student has just canceled, I have one mid-afternoon, so that’s good news , because I want to start the week off slowly so I don’t get the wobbles.


Press in case of wobbles

I see the doctor tomorrow and hopefully get some good news; like I won’t need a reset button implanted somewhere.

A sunny weekend which continues today, change expected tomorrow.

Flamengo lost yesterday against Corinthians. It was 4-0 when I flicked the TV off in disgust at 42 minutes into the second half. I doubted that Flamengo was going to make much impression in the last three minutes; I mean there is hope and desperation…

I could always market it

Kitty piddle in a bottle

Cloro has mastered the poop-side of things, but her little piddlometer needs some fine tuning.

I could always market it.

Who knows, Cloro Kitty Cola could outsell Coca Cola. Imagine the blurb, all natural, no added sugar… Just piddle in a bottle.

At least she hasn’t started to poop iridescent green, the title was just to attract your attention.

But then I found this…

Wow, scary

Wow, scary

The stuff actually exists.

If Cloro starts doing that, I’m sending her back to Chernobyl.

At the moment she is racing crazily round the house. Up on the bed, around the bed, under the bed, over the sofa skidding around the kitchen and back to the bed. Talk about being on Hedgy Bull (that’s how they say Red Bull in Portuguese).

I read this morning that football (soccer, for our American cousins) is not a religion. Someone forgot to tell the Brazilians. It said that football lacks theology. Footy has as much theology as I ever found in the bible. Just because it’s in the bible they call it theology instead of a fever. At least football’s god has substance and you can prove that it exists.

Must be nap time. I tossed up whether to go to the supermarket or bed, the bed won.