Alien Long Pig

"Eating E.T." is a mock alien barbecue, because... well, I really don't know.
Eating E.T. is a hands-on exploration of our intimate relations to other species, real and fictional. A life-size, gluten replica of E.T. The Extraterrestial, roasted whole on a spit and eaten together at festive social events, provokes discussions and questions on what is a stake in our practices of eating.

Oh.  That explains... nothing, really.

In Which I Learn I Am Not The Flash

Youngest Daughter was home "sick" today. She was running a slight fever last night, and school rules say no attendee if you had a fever in the past 24 hours. Understandable, really - sick kids plus norovirus equals justifiable paranoia. Meanwhile, Eldest Daughter had a college visit scheduled for today, and while I can work from home, I can't work from a college visit... so the lovely Mrs. escorted the Alldaughter on her visit, while I stayed home with my poor, sick little kiddo fiddo puddin' pie.

Who, of course, woke up feeling just peachy keen. Sigh... kids.

Meanwhile, my team lead ran in the Boston Marathon today. While he's a hair older than me, he's in excellent shape, and enjoys running. In the time that I've known him, I think he's easily run probably a dozen marathons. Not my cup of tea - I struggle with a 5K - but hey, good for him, right?

So I was at home this morning, doing code reviews, and keeping track of the race results. Pulling for my boss, don'cha know. Around 11:30, I knocked off, and told the youngest we were going to head out, take the dog for a walk, and then go get a special treat. She loves Taco Bell, her sisters despise it, so she always gets outvoted when we get something on the go. So whenever I can, I try to take her out for her favorite fast food concoction: two steak quesadillas, which are apparently made with a grilled meat-like substance, spicy cheese, and a sprinkling of crack cocaine.

I admit that I tried to talk her out of her last slice. I have no shame.

We had a lovely stroll through the park, perhaps a mile and a half all told, with a very happy black lab who wanted nothing more than to stop and sniff all the sniffs he could sniff. Once we were done, he got to hang his head out the window as we took the back route from the park and headed for the Bell. A nice, leisurely eight mile drive there, a quick jaunt through the drive through, and...

You can see where this is going, right?

We get home, I check the race results, and... HE'S FINISHED THE RACE.

In under three hours.

OK, yeah, it was a long lunch break, and we weren't walking particularly fast, but... seriously?


Ima go stuff another quesadilla in my face to comfort myself :-(

I Shall Perform The Happy Dance Of My People

Just in case you missed it, John Ringo is working on a new book in his "Troy Rising" series.  Rough ETA is 2018.  Ish.