While Wendy and I were moving our couch in the snow today, the dog was contemplating the edibility of crayons. There is no greater joy in life than standing in the snow, on a slippery hill, holding a couch and arguing with your wife about the best way to move it, while you watch your dog prepare to snarf up a couple of crayons. Can you imagine the Technicolor dog piles we’d have found in the yard over the next few days?

We were really looking forward to our tax return this year because it would be the biggest one we’ve ever received, considering that we bit the bullet and got married last year. Of course, every dime of it was earmarked for projects around the house that we’ve desperately needed to address. The oak tree in our back yard probably hasn’t been pruned in twenty years or more. It looks like something out of one of Tim Burton’s nightmares. I’ve made an appointment to get that taken care of, and also to remove the ancient storage shed from our back lot. We don’t use that shed for anything other than providing shelter for the bees and snakes that use it in the summertime. As much as that sounds like a Disney movie (“The Happy Animal Shed!”), it isn’t. Mowing around it is a major pain in the ass. Of course, getting stung by hornets is preferable to getting bitten by copperheads… so I try to be grateful to them, relatively speaking, as I run back to the house, cursing and flailing.

Anyway, another item we used some tax return money for was the purchase of a sofa. Our old living room sofa looks like something you’d see in the D-Day Museum, and we couldn’t wait to replace it. We bought a new sofa at a local furniture store last week, and it was to be delivered today. We decided that our old sofa was suitable for our basement wreck room (that’s not a misspelling), and we decided that we’d move it down there this morning before the new sofa arrived. Of course, our old sofa is large enough to be seen from space, so our only option was to take it out the front door, around the house, and in through the basement door. So you can imagine our joy when we woke up to pouring snow.

Of course, once we tipped the thing over and got it outside, things started pouring out of it. Cheereos. Popcorn. Match Box Cars. Crayons. There were also a number of things that the kids lost in there. And, of course, the dog had to investigate everything that fell out, and decide if it was fit to eat. I don’t mind her eating five year old Cheereos, but I was pretty worried about her eating toys and crayons. Thankfully, Wendy got to them before the dog did.

I highly recommend standing in the snow with your living room furniture while your dog tries to poison itself. It provides an opportunity for retrospection.

Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to write about today. I wanted to write about Motley Crue. If there’s one topic that deserves the title “Pretty, Swirly Turds” more than the one discussed above, it’s Motley Crue. My friend Saul sent me a link to a really funny review of a recent Crue show from BillyMeade.com, and it’s well worth reading.

Some Highlights:

After they played Dr. Feelgood 6 times (or six different songs, I have no clüe), finally Tommy F'in Lee starts his drum solo. The crowd is going nuts because, hey, he's Tommy Lee and we're not, so boom-boom, whatever… BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE - he flies to the other side of above the stage, where there's another drum set - er, wait, no - it's keyboards. Okay. Then he starts to play "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. Well, not exactly, but pretty close. Now - picture the crowd here. Drunk fat dudes pushin' 40. They don't really know what to do at this point. I swear I saw some of them weeping because Tommy had crossed over to the dark(er) side.

Read the review, it’s really funny.