Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" That soft wheezing sound you hear is my cat Alpha, asleep on the radiator. Move over, Alpha. Annie's feet are cold!
Yesterday I posted the picture below of a fearsome bored something-or-other who has suddenly appeared in the neighborhood. My commenters (a group known for superior intellect) couldn't exactly agree on what this thing is, but most thought I ought to acknowledge its presence with a suitable offering.
I rather agree. When a gnarly object the size of an average human suddenly appears in the next block, one would be unwise to ignore it.
However, I am flummoxed. I've already given it a rare item that had personal value to me -- a 1999 pin honoring my service to disabled veterans.
It seems to be sneering at this trinket, because I just had me 24 hours of heck. It would be hell, but I slept through part of it. So that knocks it down to heck.
What should I give the doggone thing? I draw the line at slaughtering Alpha and leaving her carcass at its feet. But I do not know what to do about this bored god. Your guidance would be most sincerely appreciated.
There now. That was polite, wasn't it?
And just so you know, the thing isn't in my back yard. It's sitting in a public park that is across the street from the house behind my house. If that makes any sense.