It's Thursday...

...and Da-da's power animal looks pissed. At least Da-da's squirrel chakra is spinning clockwise.

Da-da Dreams

Not sure how many Freudian/Jungian/Yogi-Berrian volumes of analysis this will yield, but Da-da can pretty much guess. Da-da had 792 dreams last night -- two he remembers, three including this one -- that warrant some examinination.

In Da-da's first dream, he was... a baseball. He saw the world from a baseball's point of view, being thrown around -- WHOOAA! -- smacked into center field -- OWWW -- smacking into a glove, grabbed by a hand, thrown toward home plate, rolling along the ground, smacking into another glove -- YER OUT! -- tossed to the ump, set aside as being flawed, later emerging to have Ethel Merman write, "Roberto Clemente," on Da-da's face and hand him to a child dressed as Elvis... ok. That's a pretty easy one to figure out. It's almost baseball season, Da-da's been smacked and thrown around by life, has a healthy fear of Ethel Merman, Da-da's part of an Elvis Control Group, and that pesky MKULTRA-induced insanity that's been lurking behind Da-da's backstop since the abduction. But the other dream...

...was simply awesome. Da-da was a SQUIRREL. A fuzzy perky gray squirrel with full-on, smokin' bionic multiclawed four-paw drive that allowed Da-da to scream up and down trees, along limbs, onto roofs... laughing all the while. And yeah, Da-da knows what you're thinking, and the tail just FLIES along for the ride. Happy Friday, everyone.

Whheheheeehoohoohheeeeeehheeeehooohohheee!!

"SQUIRREL!!"

Rhino-Robo Augmentation and a Remodel: Your Basic Weekend Recap

Got a lot done this weekend while Da-da's in-laws were here. Got Bronko's rhino-robo augmentation installed, yay...

...and all the comic tile installed in the bathrooms...

...as well as the huge WALL-O-COMICS tile in the parlor...

...the dark portions making Lucy's face. Neat, huh? Took about an hour. Da-da also built out the atrium...

...the boys LOVE racing the elevators. AND the whole thing runs on trained (volunteer) squirrels, so no power spikage. Da-da *does* have to lay in about ten tons of nuts every week, but it's a renewable energy source...

Nuts.

... and Da-da only has to keep five tons at his house. (Thanks, Steve.).

Once You've Gone Squirrel...

Weighing in at 55% ABV (that's Alcohol By Volume, Maurice), my addled Da-da brain simply cannot neurocrunch the amazing WTF levels achieved by $765-per-12oz.-bottle, dead-squirrel-koozie beer from BrewDog. Maybe it's all the squirrels Da-da has inhaled in the past. This, of course, won't stop yours truly from selling his vintage bomb shelter to purchase a marsupasixer, but only when it comes in a double breasted kinkajou sexcunx (no, it's not dirty, Mr. Succotash, it's a Latin sixer). Gotta have standards when your head is full of alien machinery, sheesh.

"Not enough O's in SMOOOOOTH to kinkajou that slaker..."

It's like my own teen-Martian patois!

Oh, wait... SQUIRREL!!