backpain. physical therapy. diaper changes. schedule changes. repairs. price quotes. recycling. cans to the curb. contractors. IRA contributions. empty water bottles. wistfulness. icepacks. ratchet sets. ftp sites. gas pump comparison. lack of sleep. anti-inflammatories. liquid glucosamine searches. deposit slips. balance transfers. space-saving techniques. short attention span. buyers remorse. prescription drugs. there's a dam in my stream of consciousness. it now flows like a 70 year old with prostate troubles. where's my lycopene?

We had just returned from the local toy store from our old town. Yes, there are still a few left. There were actually two in that area.

My son issued a mandate and was quite adamant that it was top priority.

"Daddy! This is an important job. You need to send this out on the computer to everybody in our town.

My son is 3 1/2, actually just about 4 years old, and in his world trucks, dirt, and trains rule. Especially Thomas the Tank Engine trains.

And we had just purchased "Henry's tunnel", which has been discontinued for years. So you can understand my son's excitement.

Now I'm not one of those that buys toys for my kids to just look at. You know, keep it in the box so it doesn't lose its value while it sits on a shelf in a kid's room collecting dust. So yes, all Hess trucks are fair game. Boxes are open and even discarded. If they brake...well, they brake. The child only cries because they broke a favorite toy, not because Mommy and Daddy can't believe they broke that toy that in 20 years would have bought 1/4 of a college textbook for said child.

So "Henry's Tunnel" was apparently from the 1996 Thomas the Tank Engine collection. Which, to my son my as well be, the Bronze Age. My "important job" as he put it was to share with everyone a picture of the Thomas the Tank Engine lineup for 1996.

So here it is.

My son also told me how he's no longer going to include Q when singing the alphabet. He wasn't clear about the reason why. Perhaps it has something to do with that whole "U always follows Q" rule, which I'm sure back in the day was as hotly contested as the designated hitter rule in baseball. And since spelling to him, is not nearly as important as digging, I'll spare him the exception of proper nouns like Qatar until he's older.

In fact, given recent events, I'd like to avoid any mention of the Middle East to my son for quite some time.

I should mention that he also likes to jump from 11 right to 14 when counting. I remind him of the existence of 12 and 13, but he tells me he knows that, but just doesn't want to say those.

You'll know if my son has become an architect someday, when you report to your office on the 17th floor, and realize you're only 15 stories up.

Actually, I'll lead with it.

Drop in for Tara Reid's  exposed breast. Stick around for political discourse.

That's Hategun. Not to be confused with Lovegun. No...wait...I actually meant the Kiss album. I swear. This blog needs to cut down on the NSFW.

Although, at least Ashcroft won't be bothering me anymore. But before we go celebrating uncovering those revealing, sinful statues in D.C., let's be sure it's not a case of the "The Devil You Know...".

I figured you know the rest of that one, I don't exctly remember. But I do know it's appropriate, and doesn't break any decency laws.

Who will it be? Alberto Gonzales? Officer Barbrady? Mr. Garrison? Chef? Jimbo? the 1989 Denver Broncos?

You know...Barbrady would probably slip into the Bush cabinet as Attorney General just as easy as Tara Reid's breast slipped out of that dress. (see above) Jimbo could take over as Secretary of Defense. And I'm sure Bush could find a position for Garrison, who would support the president's stance against gay marriage.

My son's 4th birthday party is approaching. In this day and age of parental overindulgence, this is nothing short of organizing a small wedding.

The invitations: Do we make them? Do we fill out pre-printed? Do we order them custom?

The cake: Is it Thomas the Tank Engine? Is it Bob the Builder? Is it Spider-Man? Yellow cake with chocolate icing? Chocolate cake with yellow icing?

The food: (because it's mostly family and mostly adults, we can't just throw a bunch of chicken fingers in the oven and be done with it) Do we cook? Do we cater? Do we cook some and cater a few trays?

Then there's the themed plates and napkins and cups. The party favors and goodie bags. You can't give the older kids the same stuff that's in the little kids goodie bags? And the babies that come, well they get goodies too, age-appropriate never gonna remember if they got anything or not goodies.

And activities...hence the title.

Bouncy...Bouncy thing...jumper...big inflatable thing for kids to jump on while parents cross their fingers that there are no skull cracking collisions.

Actually I didn't think about that part until now. I love bouncy things the last time we were at a kid's party, it was my son's first time seeing one of these contraptions, so dear old Dad spent a good portion of the time in there, too. And, yes it is fun.

Now finding a rental place in our proximity with the day availabile, and the type of bouncy we are looking for (a train theme) at a reasonable price with a reasonable cancellation policy, has been a bit trying. My wife has been starting to stress a bit, so I jump in and turn to Google for help.

Search terms: bouncy (not sure what to call the thing, I figuree "bouncy" is a good place to start), middlesex county (that's our county), jersey (we live in New Jersey, the "new" would probably be too broad.)

The results weren't nearly as focused as I would have expected. I found one bouncy company that looks like it will be out of our price range, but plenty of bouncy companies in the U.K. Damn those bloody wankers.

After that, there were a few items on the list that I found odd and/or disturbing to appear on this page of search results:

Let's start with #4: Furries Meetup

Yes, furries. You know, the kids who worked at amusement parks wearing those animal outfits that never wanted to give them back, the acrobatic and/or annoying mascots at college sporting events. A sampling of the furries on this page included: a Purple Tiger, a Rabwolf, a Shaggy Reversed Zebra, an Arctic Fox, and a Snow Leopard.

But, who am I to judge? Furries are moving from the edge to the mainstream. There's the now infamous E.R. episode. The excellent DJ Format video for "We Know Something..." directed by Ruben Fleischer. The costumed mascot needed liberation from the college campus and onto main street. It makes me wonder how tough things were starting out for the Phillie Fanatic. He's like the Jackie Robinson of the subculture. Maybe someday we'll have a world where all prejudices will be washed away and we'll see Goths (NSFW) and Furries walking hand-in-hand. But those Renaissance fair outfit wearing people still kind of weird me out, and I've even played Dungeons & Dragons in my lifetime. I've rolled the 20-sided die.

Now #19 is a bit more obvious:

It links to a page from the Breast Expansion Archive. I saw the title and thought, maybe this is like a support group forum for women thinking of upping a cup size. Discussing pros/cons, before/after, prep/recovery and that sort of thing. But after looking at the choice of icons in the messageboard, I started thinking that's probably not the case.

Moving to the main page of the site (NSFW), it became clearer that the site was more for guys that prefer some enhanced cleavage. although it seemed that surgical enhancements weren't enough, and Photoshop enhancements are the enhancement du jour. (I could have used synonyms or metaphors just now. But I thought I would just repeat the word enhancement until you wanted to beat me over the head with it.)

In the Top 30 links there was also a Discordians meetup site (another blog, another day) and The UK Face Painting Association page.

Face Painters of the U.K. Unite!

I wonder if they have a union. I'd paint my face for better and cheaper medical coverage. I'd probably don the fur as well.

but I still don't have a bouncy thing.

THE LAST WORD: My favorite new word is "fursona". I suppose it would be defined as your furry persona. Are you a chinchilla? Maybe an okapi? Perhaps a lynx? Great bastardization of our language. I wonder how many years before it's in Webster's.