A Bad Month for Lasagna

Not much of much happened yesterday. The big moment of the day being when Jaxon used the word 'temerity' in context. Darryl and I more than impressed. "Wow, a "T" bomb", all genuflect. In general though, it was epilogue Thursday. A day when no new story lines were developed, just follow-up from days past....well Graham made an appearance in his leathers and wasn't drinking. Graham riding a Harley. Hmm might as well be Frasiers' brother, Niles, on a Harley. Incongruous? Oh yeah! Seeing Graham on a Harley, is a "what's wrong with this picture?" moment. Lucky for us is the fact that Grahams' inability to define himself helps us to define ourselves. We may not always know who we are, but we are getting more certain of who we aren't. Guns for example. We aren't gun owners and we are certain of that. Certain.

We filtered out of the bar before our self-imposed curfew. 6 pm. The curfew being appropriate for guys in their early 50's. The 80's something crowd is generally gone by 4:30. I'm sure there is a law in physics that describes this. Drinks divided by age squared equals curfew. Or I could claim responsibility. Call it the 'Hayes self-imposed curfew law'.

I came home, put a pizza in the oven and promptly (caution: euphemism ahead) fell asleep. Waking up two hours later to pizza apocalypse. Apartment filled with smoke. This morning I surveyed the damage. Pulled something resembling a lava flow out of the oven. Obsidian pita bread. Brittle. Consuelo, the maid, is not gonna be happy about the oven. "Senor Hayes, que es este?"



Pizza Apocalypse

I don't really have a maid. But I decided long ago, that I would only hire a maid if her name was Consuelo. Wanted: Maid. Qualifications: Must answer to Consuelo.

Prior to falling asleep, Detective Jaxon called. He cracked the "dead mouse case". Indictments are pending. There has been a sour stench in the Saturn for days. Maybe weeks. The gag-reflex smell being attributed to a dead mouse in the air conditioning unit. Turns out the mouse was an impostor. A decoy. After pulling some groceries out of the back seat, Detective Jaxon discovered some Trader Joes lasagna under the front seat. Circa December 2004. Bad month for car lasagna. Ewwww. In business I always used to say "never attribute to malice what can be attributed to incompetence". I think there is a connection between that saying and the mouse incident, I just can't articulate it right now....I'll work on it. Hmm. I changed my mind. There is no connection. It's a cool saying though. By the way, good work, Detective Jaxon.

Epilogue Thursday. Our lives better defined by one more day. Temerity included.