He's Pulled Out the Big Guns

That's right! It's been a vicious battle with the anti-punctuality demon all week. And plus we had a garage sale on Saturday (we didn't sell any clocks, by the way--ever since the demon's been attacking I've started hoarding them) and we've been getting ready to sell the house this month. So it's been a difficult battle.
He's been raging about the house using a thirty-pound Cheeto as a club (it's a Flamin' Hot one)  and hitting me with it whenever I show my face outside of my room or the hall closet.
I've had to sneak into the kitchen to get food, or munch off of his club when he hits me with it.
The donuts in the kitchen haven't been eaten so they got moldy, so yesterday I established a lodgement in the pantry and took them, but I was forced to retreat back the upstairs when he flooded me out with kool-aid.
But I have a weapon. Oh yes. I whipped it out just as I posted this.
Behold, the Demon-Smashing, Clock-Resetting Tank with Nacho Cheese Artillery Battery! Ride forth, my great steed, crush the oppressor of lateness! Onward, to victory and punctuality!
By the way, last Saturday Eric asked me what the Anti-Punctuality Demon looks like. Well, Eric, in answer, I am making a sketch to show you. Hopefully I'll be done by Friday.
Happy trails, and don't let the Anti-Punctuality Demon get you!

The Battle Continues

Gaaar! The battle with the Anti-Punctuality Demon rages on! I thought I had him down, but he drenched me with a shower of hot nacho cheese and hid in my closet while I recuperated from the attack (it took me a while to eat the cheese because it was so hot). Apparently he set my alarm clock twenty-four hours backward! Dangit!

Right now I am grappling with him in the kitchen, attempting to wrestlre the jar of peanut butter from his demonic grip (he goes around my house eating random things and setting my clocks back).

No! Foul demon! Pepperonis do NOT go well with bananas! Stop mixing up disgusting snacks with my food!

Sorry about that. Since he came to my house he seems to have tried to get in touch with his culinary side.

Not curry! No, anything but curry!

He's getting to be very aggravating. I can't even get him to read a cookbook, either.

Ha! You didn't expect my guacamole cannon, did you? Take green buttery goodness, devil!

(By the by, please remember to vote on the poll at the bottom of the page)

The Attic

On Friday I was in the Attic a bunch (but I didn't blog about it then, because I was so stoked over defeating the Anti-Punctuality Demon) and you would not believe our attic.
Some people have nice little attics filled with old heirlooms and memories and things. Some people have musty old attics they never go into. Some people have attics that don't exist.
Our attic isn't like any of those.
First of all, you can't step on the floor.
This isn't because it's covered with clutter or something, It's actually quite barren. No, you can't step on it because if you do you'll fall through it and then fall fifteen feet to the concrete floor of the garage. You can only step on the sparse two-by-fours that serve as supports for the floor (thank god they're exposed)
Next, believe it or not, the ceiling is covered with nails, whose points are sticking downward.
And then, to add insult to injury (almost literally) there's no lights or windows.
Sounds like a jolly place, right? Every time I go in there I feel like I'm in an Indiana Jones movie. 'Indiana Jones and the Attic of Collapsing Floors' or some such.
What's your attic like? Is it dark and musty, or it is nonexistent? Is it worthy of a horror story in it's honor?
(Please remember to vote on the poll at the bottom of the page)