His Majesty was playing marbles with the cats this morning.

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His Majesty didn’t come to breakfast the other day.

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Christmas seems to bring out the child in all of us.

So perhaps it should not have surprised me to find His Majesty playing with Tinker toys this morning.

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G. tells us his muse is a goober. Mine is a crusty old retired Sith Lord.

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His Majesty has been somewhat sullen at breakfast lately. Part of it was the widespread perception in the media that Cthulu did better than His Majesty in the last debate. Part of it was the season of the year: I think His Majesty suffers from a touch of SAD (Sith Affective Disorder), which flares up around this time of year, but usually passes around early January. And I figured part of it was that the Imperial tummy has been unhappy. For several days, His Majesty could hardly choke down his meals, which left him feeling bloated and suffering with heartburn for hours afterwards. He convinced himself that it was gastroparesis, which he knows has been making life miserable for a young friend of mine.

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I recently watched an episode of “The Jim Gaffigan Show” with a bit of dialogue that perfectly encapsulated a thought that’s been bouncing around my head for a while. For those who aren’t familiar with Jim Gaffigan, he’s a “clean” but still very famous comedian who is basically a stereotypical Irish-American Catholic dad from the post-War era; his wife is more devout than he is, but he still is fully supportive of raising his kids as Catholics, with all that entails. He plays himself on the show, which is based on his real life.

In this episode, Jim’s wife invites their local parish priest, a gregarious young man from Africa named Father Nicholas, to go to Jim’s next stand-up, without asking Jim first. Jim hates the idea because he’s convinced that having a priest in the audience will kill the mood, but he gives in and takes Father Nicholas anyway. Right before they walk into the comedy club, they have the following exchange: (more…)

For the last few years, I’ve mused that the Church was inevitably going to have to separate from the BSA, and create the “Mormon Scouts of America.” Of course recent events have brought that possibility to the fore. But “MSA” would be a terrible name, so let me be the first to broach the subject of what to call the Mormon Scouts. (more…)

The other day I installed a cloak hook near the entrance of the domicile I share with His Majesty.

My cloaks can be heavy, and I also thought it might be prudent to be sure the hook could support the weight of His Majesty’s winter jacket, so I took some time to install the hook securely. I located the stud (much easier with the Force than with a stud locater, by the way) and made sure the hook was screwed firmly through the drywall into the stud. I figured it would easily hold a couple of cloaks and winter jackets.

I stood back to admire my work (funny; don’t you always do that when you finish any handyman project?) and just then His Majesty came storming through the door in a frightfully sour mood. He glanced at me, glanced at the hook, and without a moment’s hesitation he grabbed the hook and tried to swing from it. That was too much weight, of course; there was a loud crack and the hook came out of the wall, doing serious damage to the stud and drywall. In fact, since this is a load-bearing wall, the damage to the stud could wind up being a significant problem.

My jaw hit the floor, or would have, if the vocorder wasn’t in the way.

It turns out His Majesty has been thinking about original sin.

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Sometimes I wonder if there is really any hope for His Majesty.

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His Majesty was wearing a sour face when he came out to breakfast this morning.

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So school teachers’ lesson plans are “trade secrets” exempt from the various Freedom of Information statutes? In a Sith’s eye!

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His Majesty has found a new way to eat his porridge: Flavored with shredded ham and Swiss cheese, with a fried egg on top.

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As I mentioned to Bruce Charlton in the comments section of a previous post, once you get His Majesty monologuing, you can’t get him to shut up.

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Sometimes I think His Majesty has become a bitter old Sith.

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You never know what will get His Majesty monologuing over breakfast.

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