As the regular readers of Lame Adventures know by now, and first time visitors will quickly ascertain before bolting and never returning to this site, I am a shallow thinker. Aside from this overt qualification to be a Republican candidate for higher office, my brain freezing, horn-dogging, clueless mind has been focused on matters other than solving the nation’s most complex problems with the most simplistic solutions that will render what remains of the tattered middle class fully shredded.
A portion of the shredded middle class sitting in my easy chair.
For example, over the weekend, my mind was focused on housecleaning when I discovered that a reverse-thief with terrible taste in clothes broke into my humble abode and planted four pairs of hideous pants in my closet. I immediately donated them to Good Will where I had the following exchange with The Goodwill Clerk:
The Goodwill Clerk: Would you like a receipt so you can claim a charitable deduction for your donation?
Me: What I’d like is if you’d turn off the surveillance cameras, not to imply that these four pairs of ghastly pants were pants I purchased myself and actually wore in public during a period of extreme self-loathing.
The Goodwill Clerk: Does that mean you don’t want a receipt?
Me: Touché.
I did consider donating a third black leather glove the reverse-thief, or possibly an overnight guest with a double life as a cat burglar, left in my lair, but I was concerned that someone such as The Goodwill Clerk might want to know what happened to that glove’s mate? That is a logical question. It did occur to me to respond with my own unique brand of logic that my mother often referred to as “jackass”:
Me: Don’t you think this solo glove might perfectly accommodate a woman with a solo hand?
Yet, I suspected that that suggestion might merit a look that screamed:
Screaming Look: Do I look like a fool you clown?
A trio of gloves.
Moving onto dogs, particularly those killing time, and fortunately not each other, in the window of the new Biscuits and Bath doggy spa that has recently opened on Hudson Street in TriBeCa. Every single time I walk past this place Patti Page singing a novelty ditty that she recorded in 1953 called, How Much is That Doggie in the Window, fires up on my internal iPod. I would so prefer hearing her sing something else, maybe Conquest, but my mind refuses to go in that direction. Furthermore, these hounds are not for sale, which makes that song popping into my head every single time I walk past that window even more baffling.
Dogs in the window looking particularly envious at a dog on a leash walking past.
Finally, I’d like to know where the computer users around my cave acquired their wireless network names. Specifically, I’m thinking about bettob, BoogusNet (I’d be inclined to wash my hands if I tried to piggyback off that network), right, and shefinds. Really, folks, those are the most inspired names that crossed your minds?
Imagination reaching a screeching halt here.
My favorites on this list are Beaner and BeansInAPod; apparently this user has a legume fetish. Animal themes seem to be popular, too, according to bunny, CleverCheetah, MiniTiger and my personal favorite, SQUIDWARD. Then, there’s the resident faux Latin speaker, Lorem Ipsum, the wannabe porn star, Hungwell, and the guy that recently sat behind me in my neighborhood movie theater, ZZZ666, The Snoring Devil. Finally, one insignificant mystery solved!
Lame Adventures 
My heart aches for the doggies in the window! I’ve found socks in my drawer that weren’t mine but never pants in my closet. It makes me wonder what your burglar or pants reverse-thief left your apartment wearing.
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Actually, those dogs have it made for whoever can afford day care there is not a member of the 99%! it seems that my blogger bud, Minx, was the pants reverse-thief.
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I have a confession…I’m the reverse thief who put those pants in your closet. Sorry. I figured better you than me, it’s a dog eat dog world out there. Which is exactly what I saw happen when I passed Biscuits & Bath.
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If you must pull these kinds of stunts on me, may I request that you do so with socks?
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I notice that you didn’t share the name of your network with us–something like the ThirdHand?
Kathy
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Uncanny! Kathy, are you a direct descendant of Carnac the Magnificent?
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This is a fun blog. I’ve enjoyed reading about your “lame” or ordinary adventures. You know, all of life really IS an adventure. We just seem to like to hold up the unusual ones. Thanks for pointing out some of the ones that blend into the scenary but are still funny once we pay attention!
Cassie
http://www.lifetransplanet.com
PS I am often intrigued at the WI-FI names people come up with as well!
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Hi Cassie, all of life may be an adventure, but my life is predominantly lame, even when I’m up to whatever I’m up to here in Gotham City. I checked out your site. I like the images you took in your Nov 11th post of the coffee beans contrasting those grown in Greeley with those grown in Puerto Rico. I am also impressed with Schnoodle’s bladder control near the coffee plant in your house. My dog, Mean Streak, who would have turned 42 in people years today, always went out of his mind when we had the Xmas tree in the house. Thanks for visiting LA!
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Lorem Ipsum, the owner of the eponymous wireless network, is probably a graphic designer. The phrase itself is nonsense Latin. It is used as dummy text in typesetting and page layout. Nonsense Latin is not to be confused with Pig Latin, which the Three Stooges used to fulfill their foreign language requirement in college.
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Thank you for the Clif Note version of Lorem Ipsum, Mr. Mojo Ojom — and the additional editorial comment about Moe, Larry, and Curly which will surely resonate with many members of the Lame Adventures readership that visit this site primarily for its vast educational component. I hope you visit again!
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Our wireless network name is Apollo 11.
Good?
Bad?
We just moved to Apollo Circle.
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Hm, Tex. I would have thought that you might have been inclined to go more in an Apollo “Houston we have a problem” 13 direction. Maybe you’ll be more inclined to go there after you do a pratfall off a stray rollerskate lying around the house. Good to hear from you, Buddy!
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