I know, I know - no entry in days.  Sorry, Jester.  I know how much you look forward to having the run of the house while I'm busy tapping away in front of Ye Olde Cathode Ray Tube.  I'll try to do better in the coming week.  And in an effort to atone for my sin immediately, I've just opened up Amy's underwear drawer for you.  Go wild!
 

     Why haven't I been tapping away in front of Ye Olde CRT?  Because I've been busy debriefing the wife (see title of this section and entry).
     The spousal unit, you see, successfully returned from a 10-Day European sojourn early yesterday morning.  I've been vacuuming facts out of her mind ever since lest they interfere with her ability to recall something really important (like how not to knock me out of bed in her sleep).  
    Among the facts interesting  enough to have clogged the vacuum hose were the following:

     ----- People in London these days say "fuck" a lot more often than they say "bloody well right" or "aye, gov'nor."
     ----- Queen Elizabeth's face is on every single British coin, yet no one seems to have ever accidentally dropped her head in a vending machine.  
     ----- If Big Ben hears it when you call him by name, he's learned not to show it.
     ----- The train ride to France via the Chunnel is smooth enough to sleep during.  Amazing.  I myself would have been unable to sleep, knowing that I was missing my one and only chance to stare at an endless succession of Chunnel wall bricks going by.
     ----- There are no mosquitoes in Paris - and very few cannibals.  This allows people to leave their unscreened windows open all night long without being eaten alive.
     ----- At least one prostitute in France is obviously in her 60s.
     ----- It's possible to go into a snail shop and come out with nothing worse than a small statue of two snails kissing.
     ----- The Mona Lisa still draws huge crowds every day even though heavy security makes it impossible for all but a very few to have sex with her.
     ----- If Hemingway and Gertrude Stein lived on the Left Bank today, their witty conversations would be drown out by the unending sound of roller blades.
     ----- It's possible to visit Monet's garden when he's not home without the neighbors notifying the authorities.  
     ----- Want a miniature gargoyle for your desk top?  Visit the gift shop next to Chartres Cathedral.  Want a photograph of lost souls writhing in hell?  Take your camera to the Reform Party's Texas convention.   

     There's more, of course - much, much more - but I think I'll let this sink in awhile before continuing.
     If it hasn't sunk by this time tomorrow, let me know and I'll launch a few torpedoes.
 

     Sorry - they aren't back yet.  Instead, here's another picture of my cat.  Although he's a bit smaller than England, he manages to fill up this space I reserved for England just as well as England ever could.  
     And yet he still insists I don't feed him enough.  
     Go figure.

     This was taken at the start of our favorite game: "Wait For The Call From The Governor."  If the governor has not called by midnight, Warden Jester dutifully executes Mr. Stuffed Lobster in accordance with the law of the jungle.  We actually got to execute Mr. Stuffed Lobster six times while the spousal unit was gone.  What fun!
 

     Sorry - these aren't back from the developer yet, either.  Instead, here's a shot of my west lawn after I cut it last month.  Sure, it's not as exciting as France, but then again no one has ever had to worry about an angry mob grabbing them by the hairs of their white curly wig and being summarily guillotined on my west lawn, either, so just hush up and take the good along with the bad.  

     NOTE:  If you should happen to find the head of a long-suffering stuffed lobster rolling around out there come the morrow, don't be too surprised.