First up, the winner from last week— Anne Marie! Congratulations!

Thanks to everyone who participated in the captions! Keep ‘em coming!

And now for this week:

And this final one is for you to bastardized. Have at it!

Also, when seen in context of my entire space, with the black and stainless appliances, maple hardwood floors, exposed brick walls and light cabinetry:

Well, I don’t think the granite looks butt ass ugly at all, Bill.

Courtney now regrets
Trusting her farts after that
Nachos Bel Grande

It makes my room so dark and it completely changes the character of the space when they are closed.

However, there is one negative about the panels, and her name is Phoebe.

I have a very clever and very curious little kitteh. It took her all of 30 seconds to figure out how the curtain panels worked and how to push tem around so she could sneak between them.

This is the same kitteh that discovered how to open my bifold closet doors and cupboards in my old apartment.

Anyway, the sneak-thing isn’t the problem. It’s when she attacks the curtain panels.

In the middle of the night.

She has no front claws, but that doesn’t stop her from doing the “paw thing” on different textures. And the panels are woven grass type material.

So her new thing is to paw at one of the panels around 4 am. This sets all the panels to clattering about (they have the metal bars at the bottom) which startles me out of my sleep.

Sometimes she does it a couple times even; I have scold her to get her to stop. Then I have to get up and adjust the panels to block the light.

That darn cat!

Unfortunately, I think she does it now deliberately to wake me up so that I will cuddle with her to get her to curl up and fall asleep. Because invariably she jumps back up on the bed, nuzzles me, and starts purring.

And some folks think cats are stupid.

I may have finally chosen a viable tile backsplash for my kitchen. It is in the color scheme I had envisioned, with just a touch of flair. This is what it looks like:

It’s glass tile in a mixture of glossy black, frosted grey, and grey “fractured” glass.

It is meant to pick up the grey and black flecks in the reddish granite countertop. Also to pick up the black and stainless appliances.

Naturally, the shit is not inexpensive. It’s good that the backsplash acreage is limited.

Here it is against the granite:

And here is a longer shot showing it on the wall with the stove and countertop:

The reason I’m showing it vertically is two-fold. First, it is less expected and gives a bit of vertical to the tile “belt”.

Secondly, because of that curved pole (on the right in the last pic). If the tile is run vertically, it wraps around the pole nicely, thus not creating any visual discontinuity.

So… What do we think?

He came over, we boinked, then went out for a late Chinese dinner. We would have ordered in, but I couldn’t find a Chinese delivery place nearby.

Then we watched some of the Australian open– then went to bed.

Again, not the greatest sleep, but it went better than the first time. We finally rolled out of bed around 9:30 and chilled with coffee and some breakie.

Derrick actually came back yesterday evening for additional boinking– and dinner.

I made him my Gorgonzola pasta with orange bell pepper sauce. It’s my “go to” meal, and he gorged himself on it.

Them we watched the end of the 49ers football game before he headed for home.

Um, what exactly does it mean when you cook a fuck buddy dinner? And are they still in FB status?

And boy have I left you all a good one to captionize— tons of potential there!

But now, this week’s installment:

And now it’s your turn to provide a caption:

Last night it was announced that yours truly would fill the role of Horn Sergeant for the 2012 Minnesota Brass Drum & Bugle Corps.

So I guess this means I’m marching after all.

The Horn Sergeant is basically the on-field head of the whole horn line. The position is responsible for maintaining order and etiquette, facilitating things like field lining and horn arc setup, checking up on absentees, acting as a liaison to the staff, etc.

I wasn’t just chosen randomly out of the blue, there was actually an application and an interview process for the position. Meaning I deliberately chose to toss my hat in the ring for it.

After last season, there were random instances of people in the corps asking if I was going to try for Horn Sergeant. Mostly I figured they were just joking. Everyone knew I was frustrated and unhappy after last year, even though we won.

But as I was debating on whether to even return this year, I started thinking “Why not? Why not me for Horn Sergeant?”

The idea grew on me. It would give me a new goal for the season. A goal bigger than just me.

My goal would now be to reduce frustration levels in the horn line and thereby elevate the drum corps experience for all.

Including myself.

And after last year, I had some specific ideas on how this could be accomplished, which I detailed on my application.

The interview portion was last night, and I thought it went well. I avoided talking about U.S. Americans without maps and such.

And then at the end of the corps rehearsal they just announced the results. Bam. No warning.

They didn’t even tell me (or the other candidates) first- I found out the same time everyone else did (which I felt was a bit of bad form on their part).

But there you have it. I’m Horn Sergeant, bitches. And things about to change up in hyah.

Ol’ Sophia home now.

Ok- so, I like making t-shirts through Cafe Press. It’s fun to make custom, one of a kind shirts with my humor. Remember the “burkkake” design?

Anyway, I need everyone’s help with this new one. I want to do a take on the “what would you do for a Klondike Bar” slogan.

But sully it up a bit. Here are some of my current ideas:

• Who would you do for a Klondike Bar?
• What wouldn’t I do for a Klondike Bar?
• What haven’t I done for a Klondike Bar?
• I’m ashamed of what I did for a Klondike Bar.
• Yeah, I did that for a Klondike Bar.
• I did your mom for a Klondike Bar.
• I sold my soul for a Klondike Bar.
• I murdered Jon Benet Ramsey for a Klondike Bar.
• I’ll do anything for a Klondike Bar… Except blood, pain, or scat.
• What would Jesus do for a Klondike Bar?
• The Klondike Bar wasn’t worth it.
• I’ll do it, and I don’t need the Klondike Bar.
• I think you know what I’ll do for a Klondike Bar.
• 2 Girls, 1 Klondike Bar
• There’s a Klondike Bar in my pocket…

These are just a few of my ideas so far, but I’m looking for input. Do You have a favorite from the list above or maybe a great idea to share?

Please leave me comments and let me know! And remember, nothing is too foul or profane for me.

In fact, I dare you to shock me!

The best part is you can hear Alex get a chuckle off the answer at the end.

Oh Mr. Trebek, how do YOU know what that means??