Category Archives: humor

The Invasive Creatures of Suburbia

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The mongoose may be cute but he is an invasice species in Hawaii

Every Place Has Its Own “Wildlife”

Every place has its invasive species.
Florida has pythons.
Hawaii has the mongoose.
Australia… well, Australia has everything and then some.

And if you’re lucky enough not to share your ZIP code with an actual invasive species, you still have the local wildlife: deer tiptoeing through the gardens, skunks waddling with bad intentions, coyotes trotting around like they’re late for a meeting, maybe even a badger or two if the universe is feeling spicy. Then there are the cute ones — chipmunks stuffing their faces, squirrels plotting whatever squirrels plot, and of course the rogue turkey who thinks he owns the cul‑de‑sac.

I have all of that.
But I also have something… extra.

Meet My Personal Invasive Species

I have Toolman Tim on steroids.

While other invasive species creep in quietly, mine announces himself with the subtlety of a jet engine. If he’s home, something is running. Always. Leaf blower, lawn mower, wood chipper, snow blower, chainsaw — I’m convinced he has a generator just to power the rest of his equipment.

He takes immaculate care of his home, I’ll give him that. His lawn looks like it’s auditioning for a golf tournament. His shrubs are trimmed with military precision. His driveway is so clean you could perform surgery on it.

But the noise.
The noise.

Summer Dreams vs. Suburban Reality

Summer arrives and I think, Ah, fresh air, maybe I’ll open the slider and sit on the deck.

Banner and Balboa hear the slider open and immediately assume the world is ending. Instead of watching the world go by like normal cats, they scatter like I’ve just announced a fireworks show in the living room.

Meanwhile, my neighbor hears the same warm breeze and thinks, What if I ran every motorized object I own… in alphabetical order?

Our landscapers come once a week, roaring through like a NASCAR pit crew. If my neighbor and the landscapers ever coordinated schedules, we’d get one big burst of chaos and then peace. But no. They operate like they’re on alternating shifts, ensuring continuous, rolling noise pollution from dawn to dusk. It’s like living next to a construction site that never actually builds anything — just revs, blows, grinds, and growls for the sheer joy of it.

I swear the birds have started wearing tiny earplugs.
Banner and Balboa would too if they had opposable thumbs.

 

A Little Loud, But Harmless

And yet, I can’t be mad. He’s not rude. He’s not messy. He’s not blasting music at 2 a.m. He’s just… enthusiastic. Overly. Mechanically. Enthusiastically.

Still, if the state ever updates its list of invasive species, I might submit a nomination. Because while the deer nibble, the squirrels plot, and the turkey struts around like he pays the mortgage, my neighbor is the only creature in the ecosystem who seems powered entirely by gasoline and adrenaline.

Sunflower and butterfly 2018

Some people attract birds.
Some attract butterflies.
Apparently, I attract the suburban equivalent of Tim “More Power!” Taylor — and trust me, he lives by that motto every single day.

 

 

The Furry and the Restless- Episode 2 The Cardboard Coup

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Banner sitting proudly in the cardboard box, blissfully unaware he’s about to spark a feline power struggle

Scene 1: Banner’s Brief but Glorious Reign

Banner discovered The Box with the wide‑eyed optimism of a cat who believes the universe occasionally gifts him nice things.

He stepped in, sat tall, and lifted his head like he was posing for a Renaissance portrait.

Banner’s internal monologue:
“Yes. This is perfect. I am perfect. The Box is perfect. Everything is going great for me personally.”

For a shining moment, Banner was the Prince Regent of Cardboard, blissfully unaware that his reign had an expiration date.

Scene 2: The Return of the True Monarch

Balboa reappeared — not running, not pouncing, just materializing like a villain entering stage left.

His eyes narrowed.
>His whiskers stiffened.
>His soul whispered:

Balboa’s internal monologue:
“I leave for FIVE MINUTES and this is what I come back to? Treason.”

Banner, sensing the atmospheric pressure drop, executed a graceful, drama‑free exit — the kind that says, “I was done anyway.”

Scene 3: Consolidation of Power

Balboa climbed into The Box with the solemn dignity of a king returning to his throne after a brief and embarrassing coup.

He inspected the corners.
>He checked the flaps.
>He sniffed the air like a monarch detecting betrayal.

Balboa’s internal monologue:
“I can still smell him. Unacceptable. I will be filing a formal complaint.”

Then he sat — tall, tense, and deeply unimpressed.

Scene 4: Banner’s Hopeful Interlude

Banner retreated to the top of the cat tree — the highest point in the land — and gazed down upon the cardboard kingdom like a tiny, fluffy general surveying the battlefield.

His tail twitched.
>His whiskers quivered.
>His little cat brain began swirling with plans.

Banner’s internal monologue:
“Okay… okay… hear me out. What if I… take back the box? Not now. Later. When he’s sleepy. Yes. A surprise insurrection. Brilliant.”

From his lofty perch, he looked almost regal — if “regal” included the occasional distracted blink and the faint hum of a single orange cat brain cell working overtime.

He knew Balboa ruled the cardboard empire.
He knew any rebellion would be short‑lived.
But that didn’t stop him from dreaming.

For now, he plotted.

Scene 5: The King’s Return (and He Is Not Amused)

Balboa eventually arrived to reclaim the new box, too.

He settled in with the expression of a king who has discovered someone sat on his throne without permission.

Balboa’s internal monologue:
“This kingdom requires constant supervision. I am surrounded by fools.”

He sat alert, annoyed, and fully prepared to defend his cardboard empire from future uprisings.

🐾 The cardboard kingdom is secure… for now. But in this house, the next coup is always just one box away.

 

Don’t Forget your Mom Today

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Happy Mother’s Day!

Breakfast in bed  prepared and served by your lovely children. Oh and by the way, sorry about the mess in the kitchen. Were we supposed to clean up after ourselves?

A special breakfast in bed for Mother;s Day, Isn't that special

it’s the thought that counts. Love you Mom! Happy Mother’s Day!

For all that you every day of the year, hope your Mother’s Day is special and someone else cleans the kitchen!

National Cat Lady Day: I Was Born Ready

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Long live the Cat Ladies. Endorsed by the Feline Nap Authority.

 National Cat Lady Day

Today is National Cat Lady Day, which is really just a polite way of saying “the cats were already in charge, but now it’s official.”

Banner and Balboa have graciously allowed me to observe the holiday by:

  • Providing snacks on demand
  • Serving as a heated lap accessory
  • Accepting that every chair is a cat chair
  • And remembering that I am merely the staff

If you, too, have ever canceled plans because a cat fell asleep on you, congratulations — you’re celebrating correctly.

Long live the Cat Ladies.
Endorsed by the Feline Nap Authority.

 

 

America Runs on Dunkin

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Why America Runs on Dunkin. Move over Starbucks

☕ Dunkin’ vs. Starbucks: A Very Boston Love Story

Why Dunkin’ Is Practically a State Symbol

In Massachusetts, “grabbing a coffee” is basically code for “heading to Dunks.” We don’t even bother with the full name anymore — it’s just Dunks, like it’s a cousin we see every day. And with close to 1,100 Dunkin’ locations across the state, outnumbering Starbucks 4‑to‑1, it’s not exactly hard to find one. Honestly, you could blindfold someone, spin them around, and they’d still bump into a Dunkin’ before they hit a mailbox.

Starbucks? That’s for Visitors

Look, Starbucks has its place… mostly in airports and places where people say “cof-fee” instead of “caw-fee.” But here? In Boston? Walking into a Starbucks feels like announcing you think Tom Brady was “pretty good, I guess.” It’s not wrong, but it’s definitely suspicious.

Starbucks drinks come with names longer than the Mass Pike. Meanwhile, Dunkin’ gives you a medium regular and sends you on your way. No dissertations required.

Dunks Is a Lifestyle, Not a Beverage

Dunkin’ is woven into the daily rhythm of New England life — early‑morning commutes, post‑game pick‑me‑ups, and that comforting moment when the person behind the counter knows your order before you open your mouth. It’s the only drive‑thru where you’ll see someone in pajama pants, a Bruins hoodie, and flip‑flops in January, and no one bats an eye.

 

The Commercials Are Basically Local Cinema

And the ads? Pure gold.
We’ve got Gronk and Big Papi singing like they’re auditioning for a musical nobody asked for.

We’ve got Ben Affleck showing up like the unofficial mayor of Dunkin’, running the drive‑thru, handing out orders, and looking like he’s living his best life. And yes, yes that is Tom Brady.  These aren’t commercials — they’re documentaries of the Boston soul.

So… Who Wants a Dunks Run

Starbucks may have its fans, but here in Massachusetts, Dunkin’ isn’t just coffee. It’s identity. It’s culture. It’s home.

And now I kinda want a donut.