On Personal Punctuation and Tiny Turtles

Huh? Oh, jeez. Hi.  Sorry, I didn’t realize you were there.  You startled me.  Welcome.

Sometimes not having a blog planned ahead ends up being more fun, and generally involves cleaning out the pictures on the phone.


The other night, some people were discussing the Oxford comma and a few were a bit despondent that it was no longer in use, officially anyway.  The commas in that last sentence?  Not Oxford commas.  What is an Oxford comma?  Look it up.  I had to.  Actually, Kiki told me about it and then I looked it up.  I knew what it was, but didn’t know that this particular punctuation had a special moniker.  And let’s just say, I’ve never been a fan.

The reason this is so interesting to me is that I’ve recently taken to carrying around my own comma, just in case.  You never know when you might need one.  Here’s mine:

It’s a comma. Or apostrophe? Maybe one of those quotes within quotes? Or a pick guard. You choose.

See?  It’s a nice comma.  Move it to the top of the letters and it can be an apostrophe.  If you carry it with you, when you need extra punctuation, there it is.  I was thinking it might be fun to create an entire carry-along kit of punctuation marks.  Then you’re prepared for anything.

Okay, so all I’m really doing here is re-purposing a pick guard from an old guitar.  Makes it even better, right?  Here’s an example of how to use it:

Yes, I could have combed my hair first and put on a decent shirt, but we like to keep things real around here.  No airbrushing or shaving.  And I’m lazy, too.

Am I thinking dark thoughts, or is this a quote within a quote?  Does it matter?  Not really.  But I have my own comma, Oxford or not, and you don’t.  So there.


At my friend’s house, there was a roll of toilet paper, one might call it the “on-deck” roll, sitting on the toilet tank.  But there was something interesting about it.  One end of the cardboard tube was square, the other round.  Why?  No idea. The thing that it hangs on is usually round, and certainly if it were square it wouldn’t roll freely.  Therefore, I theorize, this is part of some evil conspiracy that will soon come to light on Breitbart or something and then one of my crazy friends will post it on Facebook. (Cool WordPress feature: hover cursor over pic for caption.  I’m paying for it, you might as well use it.)



This is a bunny. This bunny is rich and lives in Malibu, right by the shores of the Pacific, down the block from Barbra Streisand, or Babs as we call her.

This bunny is cute. I call him Mr. Bunny. Clever right?

Here’s another Malibu bunny.  This bunny is not rich.  He is homeless and lives in a park above some of the most expensive homes in the world.  As such, he needs to blend in with his environment to avoid being forced into a homeless bunny shelter and made to eat rationed, non-organic carrots. His name is Mr. Poorbunny.

Can you find Mr. Poorbunny? He doesn’t want you to.

We ignore the advice to not give them money because they’ll just go out and buy drugs or alcohol.  We think it’s fine.  A strung-out bunny is a danger to himself and others.

bunny2_LI (2)
There he is!


And finally today, during our midday walk, Kiki noticed this little thing on the ground.  It was about as big as the circle you can make with your index finger and thumb.  It was the same color as those little army men.  It looked like a toy turtle.

If you’re on a laptop, this is about actual size. Maybe some kid was making a diorama for school?

We have dozens of turtles on the property, but most stay near the water.  And most of them are pretty large, as turtles go, say 8-12 inches in length.  No predators and plenty of free food does that for a turtle.  Some of the older turtles venture far afield on occasion like out to the parking lot.  Looking for love in all the wrong places, you could say.  (One time, this turtle fell in love with a Volkswagon and they moved in together, but that’s a story for another blog.)  But this was unusual, this little guy, or girl, on a path nowhere near the pond.  Maybe that’s where the mom turtles lay eggs, out there in the shrubbery?

In any event, all baby animals are cute, pretty much, even ticks.  Okay, maybe not ticks, but still.  None of them look like plastic toys, however, so although Mr. Bunny is quite adorable, the Cutest Wild Animal of the Week Award (or CWAWA, which is fun to try to pronounce, be it Kwah-wah, or C-wawa?) goes this fellow, who I name… Turtley.  Am I great at naming things, or what?

This is a turtle, this is my thumb. This is a seriously tiny turtle. Is Turtley freakin’ cute or what?

Naturalists say there’s no need to move a turtle unless it’s in immediate danger.  We considered putting this guy nearer to the pond, but then thought, what if he was hatched out here and he’s supposed to be here for a bit longer?  So I just took him off the concrete so he wouldn’t get stepped on.  Of course, later on, I realized that it might have taken the little fella (or lady; there must be a way to tell, but at that size you’d need a magnifying glass and that seems a violation to the turtle) all morning to get onto the sidewalk.

Well, that’s it for today.  Please read my novel, Smoking in Bed: Dreams of love, sex and terrorism.  Please note that there is no Oxford comma in that title, nor, I daresay, in the entire book, but I will send a check for 20 dollars for anyone who finds one.

And now, a random butterfly pic.  This one lives near Mr. Poorbunny.  Have a great day, week, and month everybody!


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