Lunch on my lawn? That is unacceptable!

Ashley: Hey, guys. Have you looked out at your front-yard recently?
Young: Can't say that I have. Why? Anything interesting going on?
Ashley: Denby is having a picnic with his wife.
Young: Denby?
Ashley: Yeah.
Young: By the power of Greyskull, he has returned. He must be stohold up. A picnic with Mrs. Denby? On my lawn? Julia, get my periskope!
Julia: You don't have a periscope.
Young: Do I have binoculars?
Julia: Yes, but you don't need them, since they are right outside.
Young: In that case, lead me to the window!
Julia: Over there.
Young: Thank you. Why yes, that does appear to be a picnic. In late february. What is he up to?
Ashley: A picnic.
Young: He spotted us!
Ashley: Hey, he is waving. Should I wave back?
Young: No, just look suspeciosly at him.
Ashley: How old is Mrs. Denby?
Young: 'bout 45, I think.
Ashley: She looks pretty good.
Young: She used to be a model.
Ashley: Really?
Young: Yeah. Winnifred Margareth Harper.
Ashley: How come she married Denby.


Will Young know the answer to that particular question? Tune in next time!

Mulder and Scully VS. Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby. Man, that is a long title.

If I needed to make the choice, I would rather watch Scooby Doo than X-Files. Don't get me wrong. I love X-Files. And not just because of that concentrated hotness that is Gillian Anderson. It is a brilliant and, for the first five or so seasons at least, wellwritten show. But, if I have to pick my favourite show about people chasing monsters, give me Scooby Doo. Sure, it was formulaic and cheaply animated, but, come on. Scooby Doo! Not just because I got the same hairdue as Shaggy, or because I am growing a chinbeard, or because my friends are a tall guy, a readhead and a nerdy chick with glasses. And a dog. No. And not because in ten minutes I will distracting Mark while Julia runs out to his van and write Mystery Machine on it. And we will solve mysteries from the comfort of my home. And me and Sandy will run up and down the corridore. And then, we will eat.

I know that I had a point when I started this, but I cannot remember what it was, so there.

I had a dream...

I had a dream, last night, where I was a superhero. But I wasn't especially helpfull, so, actually, it is debatable how much I was a hero. I didn't have any superpowers, so, technically, I wasn't super either. Now that I think of it, I am not even sure if it was a dream. Come to think of it, I might have fallen asleep during an episode of Friends, so it might not actually have been a dream, as much as sleepily absorbing it. That would explain why my dream wasn't that entertaining.

All in all, as far as dreams go, that would be a solid low. My favourite is still the one with Pinhead, from Hellraiser, driving a powder-blue sportscar. I can't remember the rest, but from there, it can't be all bad.

Something weird is going on

Julia here. My boss is acting weird. Dr. Aquino said that she had filled TicTacs in a large, empty, pillbottle and given it to my boss, and that is why he is acting strange. I can see point A and I can see point B but I really can't connect them. The Doctor says that I shouldn't tell him, though, and she is the Doctor, so, I better ignore him. She will bring a new presciption around every few weeks, so at least we have TicTacs in the house.

Just what the doctor ordered!

One of the Aquino twins were just over. That is the name if my doctors. She diagnosed me with a light cold, that should blow over in a couple of days. I insisted, though, and she gave me some pills. Oxyphentynontylite. And, I feel much better already. I feel light as a cloud. I haven't felt this good in a long time. This is good.

Feelin' sick

My throat feels skratchy. I think that I might be coming down with something. Like, bubonic plague. Or, smallpox. Is smallpox still around? I hope that it is not smallpox. What are the symptoms? Skratchy throat? Is skratchy throat a symptom? I would go check Wikipedia, but I had to stop going there. Seems I was picking up new phobias. Is my voice turning hoarse? No, I am just being informed that my voice has always sounded like this. And she is sure that my voice was never anywhere like James Earl Jones'. But I will deny the accusations that it is more like Daffy Duck's. Is my hand shaking? I am being told that it is not. Is it shaking? I think that it is shaking. My vision is getting blurry. My assistant just handed me my glasses. It was blurry without them, though.

I should call the doctor. I need a doctor. A good one, with an anti-plague cure.

Watching the Neighbourhood

Ashley: Seriously, is that necessary?
Young: They keywords in Neighbourhood Watch is Watch... And Neighbourhood.
Ashley: But people don't want to be spied on with a telescope. It makes them feel uncomfortable.
Young: Neighbourhood Watch. Hey, Mrs. Fenwick didn't clean up after her dog! Attention Mrs. Fenwick. Clean up after Poochy. I will not warn twice.
Ashley: That is another thing.
Young: What, the megaphone?
Ashley: That, and the potato-cannon.
Young: Is this because I shot it at your sister when she did that lousy parking yesterday?
Ashley: Partly. With the power invested in my by Old Man Wickles, I hereby relieve you off all neighbourhood watch duty.
Young: You can't do that!
Ashley: Old Man Wickles said I could.
Young: Old Man Wickles also says that dogs can't look up.
Ashley: So what?
Young: Bah. I am gonna start my own neighbourhood watch. With black-jack and slots.
Ashley: With what?
Young: Onearmed Bandits.
Ashley: Oh. No you can't. This area with not zoned for casinoes.
Young: Then I will just watch my own house. It will be safe from trespassers and non-poop-pickuppers. You hear that Jules.
Julia: Yes, no trespassing. And no no-poop-pickup-in-a-tiny-bag-to-be-disposed-of-properlying inside these four walls.

Neighbourhood Watch

There has been a couple of break-ins in the neighbourhood. Of course, with me being a convicted criminal, suspicion fell on me. That theory sort of fell together when it was realised that I cannot leave the house without all the police in town arriving at my door. Granted, that is two people, but still. They have not registered any sort of outdoors activity. All my tennis have been limited to Wii. Before I was locked up, I never played Tennis.

Anyway, it was decided to start a neighbourhood-watch-group. So, that if anyone sees something suspecious, they call the police. [Sarcasm]Because, ordinarily, people would just go "meh" and let the criminals work in peace[/Sarcasm]. Anyway, they asked Old Man Wickles to be the leader. He is a retired cop, who now spends his days telling neighbourhood kids to get off his lawn. And of me to stop shooting my potatocannon out the window. He has about equal luck with both of those tasks. So, if he can tell criminals to get of other peoples lawns too, I think that he will be happy.