SUPER YAY FOR DR. CHOMPERS AND HIS 12.DR. Y AND I CAN'T REMEMBER RUN! I, personally, have never accomplished such a thing. I also will personally challenge Pistols at Dawn to...um...pistols at dawn. Chompers, we are your athletic supporters!

Did you ever notice how many bad smells resemble LEBANON BOLOGNA? Strange, but true.

Ah, it's that time of year again, when some beast slouches towards Bethlehem to be born and better yet, the Petards gather to beat the joy out of traditions that were once magical (or at least prescient of presents). During the mandatory tree trimming today, Dr. Y MOST FOOLISHLY recalled an alledged conversation we had last year in which I supposedly defended Q for voting for George Bush. In '04. I don't remember this. Of course, Papa Petard interpreted this as "Jean Luc voted for Bush in '04" so I got swatted upside the head and threatened with disinheritance. So I decided that for every five minutes my father knawed on this particular bone, I would punch Dr. Y in the arm. I hope I left several bruises.

I have been very remiss in my blogging...But I have my reasons. SwD was complaining about my lack of entries recently, and I said, "Tons of stuff is going on; I don't know why I'm being so remiss."

And she said, wisely as she is sometimes wont to do, "Because you're supposed to be telling girls to be careful. And you're not being careful at all!"

Sure aren't. I'm an emotional sky diver! It's fun, not as scary as you'd think, and you should try it sometimes.

Double check your parachute, though, ladies. And aim for a warm, shark-free body of water.

My apologies, dearest common taters. After the "blamming" incident, I apparently enabled comment moderation, having no idea what that was, of course. So your funny comments (and Dr. Y's) have been piling up like those little, tube-dwelling mice-moles with no eyes that you can see at the National Zoo. Those things are gross.

Happy Feast of the Immaculate Conception, by the way. I didn't know until today that the feast refers to MARY'S conception, not Jesus'. So you wonder...how far back does this immaculate conception go? For some reason, I think of anemones or hydras, sprouting sinless ancestors for the son of God.

I feel okay being blasphemous about this because the dogma of the Immaculate Conception has no basis in Scripture, only Tradition. This is not a logical argument, but it is the one I'm offering. Take it or leave it.

Also, I am VERY tired. So I'll have to check back tomorrow to see if the sea anemone thing makes sense.

Well, loyal readers, not much going on aside from the TORRID LOVE AFFAIR with Robin, my very own boy wonder. Hee, hee.

In Arts & Entertainment, Mama and Grandpa Petard and I went to see Charlie Brown's Christmas followed by a performance by the Eric Byrd Trio. I'd forgotten the good parts, like when Sally, Charlie's little sister, says in reference to her Christmas list, "All I want is what I have coming to me. All I want is my fair share." Me, too.

On second thought, I most definitely don't want what's coming to me.

This weekend, the Petards are going to see "Amahl and the Night Visitors" or as Reds said this morning, "A Mall and the Night Visitors?"

The posse is also going ice skating. I am a wee bit ambivalent. I'll have no Dr. Y to hold my hand and give me crucial pointers like "turn" and "avert disaster!"

I am hereby opening the comment section to suggestions for what Dr. Y and I should do for a GRAND DAY OUT when she comes home for the holidays. No fair suggesting "avert disaster!"