Pushing Daisies

Kids, I have sad news.

Mr. Rambo has died.

I have no idea why. I guess it was his time to go.

It's par for the course this week.

At least today was sunny and warm. I even put my toes in the lake today. (It was cold!)

Introductions...

Thanks to your suggestions I would like reveal the names of my fish:

Mr. Rambo Cheng Rosencratz and Mr. Buttercup Eng Guildenstern


Wow, such big names for such little fish. I will provide pictures soon. That is if they every stop swimming for me to do so. Maybe I can bribe them with fish flakes?

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue fish...

Alright.

I need help.

What should I name my new little guppies? I have two of them, both boys. They are crazy. They spend most of there time swimming in circles, except when I walk into the kitchen when they begin their dance for attention. Seriously, they look like small children looking for attention from a parent. They dive, and twist and flip. It's a little too human for me...

Anyhow, back to what I was saying, they need names. Help me! What should I call them? I'm leaning towards Flotsam & Jetsom but it's so unoriginal.

In other news:


Well, there is no other news. Just work, and more work, and looking for a job that doesn't make me want to pull my hair out.

Buyer's Remorse

So today I decided I wanted a fish.

I researched tanks.

I picked out the kind of fish I want.

I went to the pet shop and bought everything but the fish.

Half way home I was regretting my decision. My mind began to race:



---What if I'm not allowed to have a fish in my apt?



---What if it dies?



---What am I suppose to do with it on the weekends I'm away?



But then, two stops from home, an old man fell getting on the bus. It was a big production. He couldn't get up, I was sure he was dying. So I jumped up and out the back and walked quickly home. A fish is a minor thing when old men are dying. I hate it when people decide to die around me. It really freaks me out. It seems to happen a lot. Note to the world: I am not a physician and can NOT help you, so find somewhere else to die. I will run in the other direction.

I have the tank set up. This weekend on my three days off I will go pick up the fishy!!!!!

All *Good* Things Must Come to an End...

Oh dear friends I have some sad news. Tequila has passed away. He lived pretty long for a fish. Actually, the length of his life suprised me. But I guess that is because I compare him to his "brother" who he ate.

I've written Tequila a poem:

Oh little fish,
You were such a dish.

Ever so mean,
and ever so lean.

The time flew by,
I hope you don't mind,

It's time for you to go,
Down the giant bowl.

Ok, so I am not a poet but his death deserved some kind of statement. It was that or this crazy picture: