Reader Alert: This Blog Has a Paucity of Speedos

It never would have occurred to me to warn people of this had I not taken a look at the search keywords responsible for bringing people to this site in the last week.

A rational author might concern themselves more with the fact that as many people stopped by to gaze upon the glorious Virginia Hey as were interested in the next release of the Sons of Masguard, but (being decidedly UN-rational, which is too a word) I was too distracted by the thought that someone came here looking for a person* in skin tight speedos and walked away disappointed.

This Shifty Parrot is the Shiftiest Toy Ever Made (And Will Probably Kill Me in My Sleep... Shiftily)

This past week, my wonderful in-laws invited us to participate in a yard sale. Because we've been antsy to begin work on the unfinished addition to our home (which is currently cluttered with fifteen years' worth of what can only be described as "broken crap"), the husband and I may have shared a celebratory dance before dragging the sea of boxes into the driveway for sorting. (Bonus: this confounded our free-roaming flock of chickens to no end.)

If you've never done this sort of thing, it's a lot like attending a reunion for all of the semi-acquaintances you've made over the years. Sure, you have vague memories of names and places and maybe having bumped into some of these lovely folk at one point or another, but you know as well as they do that a reintroduction is going to be in order. Most of the boxes were so disappointingly typical that we might as well have nabbed them from any curbside dumping location: chipped plates, old hairdryers, a random mass of bobby pins and hair ties, etc.

And then... there was THIS: