Deviant Dispatches

I'm a fan of potating . Dear OreIda, I write to you with joy in my heart after having consumed half a bag of tater tots. These crispy, chewy, lightly salted pinnacles of starchy excellence are often the highlight of my weary days, when I make it to dinner time only by keeping thoughts of their golden perfection in mind (often accompanied by a heavenly choir). It can come as little surprise to you then that I write not only to praise tater tots, but also to request a nationwide french fry ban. No, I am not one of those obsessed with calling them "Freedom Fries" instead. I do not stand before you with a flag as my Cape of Justice and a trusty eagle sidekick on my shoulder. I merely wish tater tots to have the rightful respect that is due to them. They deserve a place beside every hamburger, every sandwich, everywhere. For what are french fries but an inferior, long-legged imposter? I also request this ban of the inferior potato so that the infamous Spud War

Hi all - been a while. Distractions abound. I'm trying to get back into the swing of it - I haven't had a blogging hiatus like this since I started this up in 2011. Time to regroup, which may happen in fits and starts, but I'll do my best. What's been distracting me? Well, you know. Life. My next couple of posts will feature a lot of backlog, and mostly pictures, as I find it easier to get a post going when there's an image to go with it. First: the great outdoors. Earlier this summer, Spousal Unit and I decided to make good use of our fire pit. We proceeded to buy a ton of logs from the grocery store. You know, the paper-wrapped ones they sell next to the coolant and motor oil. (That should have been a clue.) One night, Spousal Unit didn't just put out the fire: he hosed it out, dumping the ashy water onto our yard. We ended up with dead grass and weird mushrooms. (Not quite a fairy ring.) So that's gross and disturbing, and we're never b