Moan moan moan

Today's pointless photo is of the father figure's slingshot. He uses it to keep stray cats out of the yard.

Oh, relax. He doesn't aim at them. Just near enough to be convincing.

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So, on to moaning. I spent part of the morning with a group of exchange students, and it's safe to say that we mutually managed to pick out about one out of every three words that was said between us. Thank heavens for translations, but I have to admit that my head hurts a bit.

What hurts more than a bit is my ankle. Remember me whinging about it a few days ago? Well, things have since got bad enough that I actually put on the *choose your favourite expletive* brace before work today.

I hate braces. I hate buying braces (at this point in my effed-up ankle's career I can get away with store-bought athletic braces, and my budget's thankful for that) and I hate wearing braces. I hate the way they stretch my shoes, and I hate trying to wash the funky smells out of them after they've been worn for a few days in a row.

Yeah, fun.

It doesn't help that the mere act of wearing a brace accentuates the limp. Sure, my ankle may not be as sore by the end of the day as it would be otherwise, but my knee won't be at all happy.

Kind of like I'm not much happy about the brace situation as a whole.

Bet you hadn't guessed that part though.

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I've been trying to think of a way to end this nonsense on a happier note since, after all, I'm not in nearly as bad a mood as I probably sound. The usual would be to link to some pointless video from That Place, but since the Toronto office seems to be questioning my taste (should I have mentioned that I like the last thing I linked to? Come on. Ya gotta love it) I'm feeling like coming over all shy and refusing to look for anything for a while.

I keep trying to tell you people that I'm a five-year-old, but does anyone believe me?

Fine then. Gimme a sec...

Here.

Don't say I never do anything for you.