Julitis 5, 41 A.B.

"The people who are the hottest sexually
are fat white people who are burning in the sun."

- Dr. James Watson, Nobel Prize-winning co-discoverer of DNA's double helix structure and a director of the human genome project.

Close Encounter With A Non-Fat, Non-White Fiend From Hell
     So I go outside this morning (having utterly forgotten/repressed all my experiences of the last few days that I wrote about last night) and proceed to my east water faucet in order to get some water for my back yard birdbath.  As I stood there, filling my can (my watering can - come on!), a brown blur suddenly appeared from out of the bushes behind me and lunged at my - 

     Oh, wait.  I really should mention first that that Watson quote is quite legitimate.  At least it appeared in my newspaper today and that's good enough for me.  After all, if I had to go 'round double-checking everything everyone is quoted as saying in every publication I read, well, there'd be no end to it, would there?  I could kiss lunch goodbye, that's for sure, and I'm just not willing to do that.  Sorry.
     Anyway, the sexual hotness of fat white people burning in the sun has something to do with the hormone MSH, leptins, and endorphins.  Fat people have more of 'em, and sunlight can boost their levels of these feel-good chemicals even higher.
     The fact that Watson was put on the right path to this wisdom by a New York City cab driver should not  make us discount it out of hand.  

     - peonies.  I almost fainted!  It was, of course, the rabbit that has been eating my flowers.  I simply had not expected him to be so far away from them, let alone as far away as my east side faucet.
     Proving once again that while I can, with some difficulty, follow the thoughts of Einstein (not to mention Watson), the thinking of a rabbit seems forever beyond my grasp.
     Well, at least before I've had my morning Cocoa Puffs.

Fun With Musical Triangulation

     Just for the record, Watson isn't the only one capable of great thoughts.
     Here's one of my own (and it's far more fun than that [*yawn*] double helix thing that's been around forever):
     If you play the Beatles' "Penny Lane," Chicago's "Saturday in the Park," and the Fifth Dimension's "Up, Up and Away" all at the same time, you will experience the sensation of floating high over the Atlantic Ocean.

And As If One Furred Creature In And One Out Wasn't Enough...

     I also have been seeing a flying squirrel.  In the lilac bush outside my office window.  In the back maple tree.  In my neighbors' locust tree.  
     This is new.  This is different.  This is my fourth summer here now and I've simply not seen one flying squirrel prior to this.
     Call me cynical, but I suspect those PR guys have really overspent their budget when it comes to promoting that new Bullwinkle movie.

Dick Test

     "Dick Test:  A skin test used to determine immunity or susceptibility to scarlet fever.  (After George Frederick Dick and Gladys Henry Dick.)"

     That kinda pulled me up short.  I was actually looking up the word "diabetes" today because for some strange reason I didn't think I knew how to spell it right (well, I DID, so there).  But "Dick test" caught my eye along the way.  
     Gee, don't George and Gladys sound like a fun couple?  "You guys wanna go out tonight?"  "No, thanks.  I think we'll just stay in and see what we might be able to do to each other's epidermis in an effort to determine if either of us has ever had scarlet fever."  "Suit yourselves.  There's gonna be bingo."  "Bye, Gladys."  "You get right back up on that kitchen table, George - NOW!"

     Then "dicrotism" caught my other eye.  That's a condition in which two pulses are felt for every single heartbeat. 
     Wow.  Who'da ever thunk such a thing possible?  What next - two thoughts per one-track mind?? 

     At which point I figured I was never gonna make it to "diabetes."
     But I did.

     Proving that you really can work your way to diabetes if you just stop letting yourself get distracted by Dick tests and abnormal pulsations....

And By The Way...

     I cut the neighbor's grass again today.
     This means that just another 180 hours of cutting her grass and I expect Harvard to reward me with an honorary degree in Mowology.
     I guess I better go start trying to get my cap and gown past that rabbit and into the house now....

Yesterday's Cuttings

Main Compost Pile

The Inevitable Next Threshing
Of The Written Word


(©Now by Dan Birtcher as calmly as he can
given the fact that he has just received word that the
concrete sarcophagus encasing his last journal
has started to vibrate and crack)