"Priest Infection"


Logical Operator

The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »

A Pet Peeve That's Actually About My Pet

How come I can't get through the grocery checkout lane without the clerk or the bagger commenting about how many cans of cat food I buy, which inevitably leads to questions about how many cats I own, how much I feed them, and why I need so many cans? Has nobody in this state heard of stocking up? For their information, I have one cat who eats two 3-oz cans of food a day, which is more than a typical cat but not unheard-of. Go »

Red Carpet Saturday

Some friends of ours recently made a short film (they're officially in IMDb) that got into the Sarasota Film Festival, so Kelly and I had to check it out. It screened with eight other short family-friendly films on a Saturday morning, and there was good turnout for the two locally-made titles in the set. I enjoyed our friends' comedy and laughed along with everyone else, and I was impressed by several of the other movies too. Go »

WLW: Can't

"Can't" is a word that fat people tell ourselves a lot after so many failed diets: We can't lose the weight, we can't succeed. Hearing it from a doctor would seem inconsequential. But it still hurts. Go »

Weight-Loss Wednesday: The Stress Test

Two weeks ago, I wound up in the hospital for what I worried was a heart attack, but turned out to be back spasms caused by too much weight on my frame. Either way, the lesson was ominous: Lose weight, or spend a lot more time in the hospital in the future. I would like to document my progress here on Wednesdays as I undertake this long journey. Go »

Meow Mix

Thanks Evgeni: Cat Music. Go »

Blood Lines

A few weeks ago, I dropped a glass bottle of salad dressing on the kitchen floor, making the house smell like vinaigrette for a day. Today, I stepped on the last errant bit of glass hiding in a crack of tile by the corner. Better my foot than the cat's paw, I guess; I don't lick between my toes. Go »