OK, who is Oscar? Actually Oscars are fish. Kathy decided that "Oscar" would be a good name to use for our purposes, and why not? My name isn't Oscar. It's Steve. Kathy is my Significantly Better Half. I suppose this will be a combination of our thoughts, but you'll be stuck in my head most of the time.
Anyway, Kathy and I were talked into this by my sister, who probably thought she was finally getting even for losing all of those fights we had when we were younger. If this gets too gross, blame her.
Kathy is amusing. I love her, and would die without her, but she has the cutest way of making this...sound when something she hears, touches or sees nauseates her, even in the slightest. If Otis (our mastiff) walks in sporting a stringer of drool that dangles from his slobbering lips, if she has to fish out a waterlogged blob of hair from the drain, if I even refer to the joke about the spittoon and the tobacco spit, she makes this sound.
I have likened it to what a Muppet might sound like while clearing its throat. It sort of goes like this:
h u r k
She gets more of an "e" sound to it, but it quite clearly sounds like Kermit saying "h u r k". She also says "h l e a c k" sometimes, but most often she says "h u r k". She knew I realy loved her the first time I was gentleman enough to hold her hair once when she finished up "h u r k" by...well... hurking.
The other morning we were listening to a news report about how bull semen is very valuable down in Texas and other Cattle states. Apparently they caught a guy stealing - get this - a TANK of the stuff. They didn't define how big the tank was, but I suppose it was bigger than a bread box.
I could only think of 2 things to say. First, "That poor bull must have been exhausted." Second, "Do you think the guy tried to swallow the evidence?"
"h u r k! h l e a c k!" For 10 minutes!
I am not allowed to discuss it ever again. She didn't say I couldn't type it...