A. Russo – More than the sum of my parts.


November 2015

Thanksgiving Stuff!

Okay, that’s actually a pretty lame title for a blog post – because let’s face it, I suck at making titles for things. Anything, really.

I had this big long blog post written up, sort of a rant I guess (I’m not sure I ever actually REALLY rant about things, but I was definitely going on and on), and in reading over it I finally just sighed and hit delete.

What was I ranting about?

Fuck if I know. Everything. Nothing. The way people treat each other. The way we interact with each other. The fact that the holiday season is here and a large vocal part of our country wants to celebrate a season of goodwill by NOT helping those in need.

I dunno. Stuff like that.

Add to it, my neighbors have just put up what I like to call Military God Santa and now I am in a crappy mood.

Yes, it’s what it sounds like. It is, literally, a 12-foot tall inflatable Santa dressed in camouflage holding a ‘God Bless America’ sign. Every morning on my way out to my car I wish I had a pea shooter so I could just ‘ptoo’ real quick and deflate the bastard. I have nothing against our military, anyone’s god, or Santa. Not even remotely – I respect them all. I just get irritable when I see them all displayed in one gigantic plastic blow-up-doll icon next to a ‘Trump 2016’ sign on the lawn, I guess.

Anyhow, I don’t actually have a point today. Not one I can articulate in less than an hour. So can I just say – it’s the holidays. Stop thinking about how YOU PERSONALLY have been wronged, and just go do something nice for someone else. Seriously. You’ll feel a lot better.

It doesn’t have to be big. You don’t even have to spend money. Just do something nice. Hell, SAY something nice to someone you wouldn’t normally say anything to at all. Make a difference in someone’s day. Don’t be a jerk. Okay? That’s pretty much it.

Right, and have a Happy Thanksgiving.


Arin – 1, Evil Kitten – ~1 million…

So I’ve mentioned Evil Kitten before. I live with Evil Kitten. Or, more accurately, Evil Kitten allows me to exist in her space as long as I continue to provide food, water, and kitten-box-cleaning services.

How did I come to have this arrangement with Evil Kitten? I found her dying under a car, covered in fleas and mites and totally malnourished. Upon verifying with a local that she was, indeed, homeless and no one would miss her, I scooped her up, dragged her tiny less-than-one-pound body to the vet, and spent the next 48 hours force-feeding her, giving her vitamins, crushing fleas, and heating and reheating a sock full of rice to keep her warm.

In thanks, Evil Kitten has become my supreme ruler.

Really. You’d think she’d be grateful, but no. Evil Kitten hates such things as snuggles, petting, cuddling, and affection in general. She prefers to feed on human flesh, usually mine, and is not opposed to sneak-attacking me at any hour of the day.

Occasionally she sleeps on top of me and wakes me up purring at 2:30 in the morning but I pretend not to notice so she can keep up appearances.

As part of my duties to my supreme ruler, I play with her every evening with a teaser toy which she joyfully chases around. So last night, while watching my recorded episode of Dancing With the Stars (Yes, I watch DWtS okay??? Don’t judge me!!) I set the remote control down next to me on the carpet so I could simultaneously play with Evil Kitten (I promise, she has an actual name but I don’t say it out of fear that repeating it three times might summon her) and fast-forward through the blah blah blah talky parts.

Evil Kitten bounced around for a bit and then spotted the remote on the carpet. The result was like watching a puffer fish puff up – instant puff. Hiss. Bounce.


I lifted the remote. Bigger puff. Louder hiss. Huge threatening bounce.

Muahahaha. Evil Kitten has kryptonite.

I pointed the remote at her, and with a hiss that would rival Simba the Lion King (no, not the grown up one, but the pitiful kitten one), Evil Kitten was off like a shot, up the stairs and back through whatever portal of Hell she dwells in when I can’t find her.

I have no idea how or why this came about. To my knowledge Evil Kitten has never had a bad episode with any kind of remote control. Perhaps she can sense its electric vibes or something.

I must use this power wisely, but I have found a defense against pointy teeth at last!! BWAHAHAHA…



I knew it was too good to be true. I bought my car almost exactly two years ago and it’s been in pristine shape since I got it. I wash it and polish it regularly (or I get lazy and pay people to do so for me). I wipe down the inside on a daily basis. I’m a little overprotective of it, okay??

Now that daylight saving time is over and the sun is setting earlier it gets darker at the barn. Yes? Logical.

The parking lot got quite full tonight, and when that happens some people apparently park their big fat freaking Tahoe on the opposite side of the (very small) lot where there isn’t actually any marked parking.

Their black Tahoe.

Under a tree.

In the dark.

And now I have proven to myself that yes, even with a back-up cam it is entirely possible to miss the big fat freaking Tahoe when it’s parked almost directly behind you under a freaking tree in the freaking dark.


Now granted, I was only rolling backwards very slowly but since I didn’t see the dang Tahoe I didn’t apply any brakes. Damage to Tahoe, a few miniscule scrapes on the bumper the owner said she doesn’t care about. Damage to VW Passat, minimal but will still require the bumper to be replaced as the metal is slightly buckled.



At least she had the good grace to apologize for leaving her big stupid truck where pretty much ANYONE would have bumped it. I just had the rotten luck to be the first one to do so. Generally if the parking lot fills up at the barn, we pull into the field across the way and park BEHIND the big trees just for that reason.

Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. This is sort of a Murphy’s law thing for me… it’s written in stone somewhere. Or, in crappy COBOL:





I shoulda hit her harder, if I’m gonna have to have my bumper replaced anyway. *grumble*


Blog at

Up ↑