Villa de Loon

By Tiber

I threw up. Yeah, yeah, we all have. But this may be related to an allergy. It’s not a pollen, ragweed kind of normal allergy. No, no. This could be…I can barely even get this out. I may have become allergic…to coffee!

But, but, I LOVE coffee! Love it, love it, love it! I want to fill the pool with it and swim in it! I want it come out of my bathroom taps! I want to buy it cute clothes and tell it it’s hot! Because it is!!!

Nobody loves ragweed. It’s not normal to anybody’s system so of course you could react adversely to that.

But coffee? Come on!

Coffee, and it’s happy, little dancing beans never hurt anybody!

Coffee just exists to put a song in your heart, a spring in your step and now you’re telling me an up in my throw?!?

It’s never been a problem before and I should know!!! My morning coffees from the shop have long ago graduated to “I’ll have two Gargantuas, please!“ (They let me come up with my own categories and God bless them, they even find containers to honor them.)

At home, I’ve started drinking coffee straight from the pot. Hey, that was an ecological choice! You save water when you have no mugs to wash.

Later, of course, I enjoy my pre-dining joe happy hour followed by my post-dining java calm-down. So how can something that you need and love and can’t live without, and would dress up like a hamster in a bikini,  just TURN on you like…

Oh.

By Tiber

I thought it might make me feel better about losing my job to read where some U.S. presidents have had tough personal moments of their own. At least I haven’t lost the house china in a poker game (President Harding) or gotten stuck in a bathtub (President Taft) or been stopped by the police for speeding on a horse (President Grant).

But then of course, there’s President Thomas Jefferson, who along with all of that “Declaration” paperwork, also invented a clock, a new plow, the swivel chair, a concave mirror, the dumbwaiter and a copying machine.

Here I’m not working at all and the only thing I’ve come up with is my remote-controlled “candypault.”

I put candy across the room on my dresser so I won’t eat it but then the second I’m in bed, I want it anyway and I’m too lazy to get up. So I invented the “candypault” which allows me to ignore my good intentions and shoots the candy right back.

Hey, it’s a start.

By Tiber　

In one of those news headlines I love, (though I didn’t read the article) there was one today entitled, “Bull Semen Closes Down Freeway.”

There might have been a truck carrying bull semen that just blocked the route.

But I like to think that the word went out on CowDate that this one bull was so spectacularly hot, all of the ladies stampeded after him at the same time as he was driving to, I don’t know, a meeting with his realtor, his own book signing or maybe just a Dairy Queen.

And with that many hungry, horny, hogging heifers hyperventilating and hightailing it up the highway, what else can you do but shut it down?

By Tiber

Hello. I’m back at home.

My friend, Ryan, and I went on a road trip. We tend to underbelly these things so I wouldn’t really call it a “vacation” since that word conjures up something restful.

At least it wasn’t a “staycation” which I will avoid forever simply because I hate that word.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a “laycation” either which I truly would have enjoyed.

But all and all, it was still worthwhile.

I tend to like new smells and whenever we travel, there seem to be a lot of those. Plus, as with everybody, beyond the true interest of a trip, I think there’s always the relief that when you get out there, you see that other people aren’t any more sane or attractive or together than you are.

There would be nothing worse than to have somebody say way late in your life.

“You lived like that?!? Dude, if only you’d traveled two miles down the road, you could have lived in Perfect Town. Where no one gives tickets. They only give backrubs.”