Saturday, March 13, 2010


Looking back over my previous post, I realize that my blog name is no misnomer. I can certainly ramble. I could have just as easily condensed my 7 facts about myself as follows:
  1. I don't know or care (anymore) how people should pronounce my name.
  2. I'm addicted to Big Fish Games' 60-minute free game trials.
  3. I have no clue how to apply makeup and make it look good.
  4. I can bring poor, unsuspecting women into the spell of my period hormones.
  5. I am definitely not a scientist.
  6. I love bacon.
  7. And now that these are nice and short ... I'll add #7: I tend to ramble on at ridiculous lengths about nothing very interesting at all! (see below)

We have a friend here in Boise who, I am learning each time I talk to him, knows just about everything about everything, but not in an annoying sort of way. Actually in a very fascinating way.

The latest tidbit came up as I was telling him how we had spread this horrible weed and feed stuff on our "lawn" in an effort to kill off the goatheads that were endemic to our yard when we moved in. According to Mr. Fascinating, goatheads are of a plant called Tribulus terrestris (which, to me, sounds even more evil than "goathead"). He went on to explain that it is a main ingredient in many of the muscle-builder powder stuff that people take to make themselves stronger. (Oh, the scientific explanation in that last sentence just proves Point #5 above!) Apparently this stuff goes for big bucks and is then ground up into a fine powder so that crazy people can ingest it. Just the thought of that makes my insides hurt, because in my mind, no matter how fine you grind that stuff, it's still horribly pokey evil that even in a microscopic form must still be pokey and ouchy. I mean it goes straight through tires without even a blink of its goathead eye, and it's just about the only thing that will stop The Dog in his tracks.

But, saying all that, apparently we could have just let this stuff grow and become bajillionaire goathead farmers. I wonder if that requires have a goat-herd?

Of course, this whole conversation led to hilarious talk about falling off our bikes into a pile of goatheads and coming up raving mad, a la the Incredible Hulk, or just taking the pointy ends of the goatheads and jabbing them in our arms to get a little extra juice. But, I guess you had to be there to really capture the hilarity of it all.

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