Tag Archives: sarcasm

In Which I Had Malicious Intent

Friday night, with malicious intent, I drove down the highway.

Friday night,  with malicious intent, I made a couple of pit stops along the way.

Friday night, with malicious intent, I cracked open a new book.

Tis a harrowing tale that brings us here. A tale of such frightening aspects like counting, and buying, and staying in on a Friday eve! Proceed with caution, if you dare to proceed at all.

After waking on Friday morn, I felt the urge to… correction… I felt strongly compelled (!) to count – yes COUNT – the number of books on my bookshelves. The tally: 303. But oh frightening part, the truly truly truly knee-shaking hair-raising turning-you-into-a-quivering-mass scary part is that I realized I needed more. More!

With malicious intent I counted and knew the number 303 was vastly too small. With malicious intent, I vowed to increase this number.

And so, with no compunction for those around me or for myself, on my way home that evening, I stopped at Half-Priced Books. I had the singular goal, the goal of filling in a gap in my collection. I needed Terry Pratchett‘s Small Gods. (You may have noticed the plethora of Pratchett quotes lately – this has been the result of this growing uncontrollable urge to re-read this very book.)

Alas, Half-Priced Books failed me on this occasion. They had precious few of Pratchett’s books, and Small Gods was not one of them. So I had to settle with the following:

Having been disappointed in my quest, I pressed on. Next on my barrage of book buying: Barnes (and his friend Noble). Surely a full priced book store would help me quench my lust for the printed word. “Surely!” I exclaimed as I fishtailed into my designated parking spot at the front of the lot (Summer’s Shadow had grasped the importance of my mission – she’s a good girl and how I love to hear her growl!).

Barnes quickly pointed me to the malicious intent section (which encompasses the entire store) and I managed to find not one, not two, but three (thank you Count, ah ah ah) books that I absolutely had to have:

And so when I arrived home, after feeding myself, and feeding Riley, (Summer’s Shadow wasn’t hungry), I proceeded to do something dangerous.

With malicious intent, I cracked opened a new book to feed my mind.

In Which Golf Balls Might Explode

Knowledge is power, and understanding our past is essential. As is knowing the proper rules for golf during a firefight with the Nazis. After all, who can argue the importance of knowing when and when not to take a penalty because an explosion moved your golf ball while you are on the course?

Image courtesy of io9.com

World War II had a major impact on Europe, but the fact that the British were prepared for the coming onslaught is somehow reassuring. I, for one, am all for preparedness (I was a Cub Scout, even if I was never promoted to the elusive Boy Scout status).

I think the Richmond Gold Club should be commended, though perhaps the direction of their focus could have been redirected a bit. But then, the Axis powers had just bombed one of their buildings in a fierce display of anti-golf anger. Perhaps their ears were still ringing, causing them to focus on the finer points of golf rules instead of the safety of their members. But hey, what golf club really cares about its members’ safety, anyway?

(Thanks for io9.com for bringing this to light.)