The banana bag

The things I do.

Epiphany is the 12th night after Xmas. Wise men rode into to town, and tried to pawn some stuff on a kid - not much up on my mythology there.

But Saturday night, after a fine repast of Tex-Mex (puffy tacos), I was coerced into helping take down a family’s xmas tree. Fake tree. Good for tree huggers, them fake trees. No real trees were harmed. But the deal was, the tree came down, laid over on a side, then wrapped in a sheet, penned closed, and wrapped in another sheet. Then there’s the “banana bag.” It’s large, obviously yellow, plastic bag that is slipped over the tree, facilitating storage.

I just pointed out, much to the consternation of those around, that this was just like a tree condom, in a delightful color. When there was a little extra room at the tip, I furthered the analogy with the point about the special reservoir tip. Again, deaf ears.

Kids these days, what are you going to do?


What calories look like. Although, I always thought in terms of cookies.

More news bits.

Out of this world news.

Inbound mail:
>On Jan 7, 2007, at 7:20 PM, ya’ll wrote:
>>(the fine print) said, “Never try to out drink an Australian.”
>>good advice.

I tried. I know first hand. Why I live like a monk. and its family of websites participate in affiliate programs, which means there are material connections between the ads, and this site. for appearances —
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