* * *
Pet store kitty pics are here.
* * *
“What does that sign say?” the spud asked from the back seat of Fred’s (former) Jeep on Sunday. We were sitting at a red light waiting to turn right, and on the telephone pole a few feet away was a picture of a dog.
“It says ‘lost’.” I said.
“I thought you wore GLASSES,” Fred said with a significant look over his shoulder.
“I’m not wearing them right now,” the spud said in her
how-stupid-are-YOU voice.
“My point exactly,” Fred said. He went on, “If you were wearing your glasses like you SHOULD, you would know that that says ‘lost’.”
The spud rolled her eyes and squinted up at the sign. “What’s lost?”
“A dog,” I said, and opened my mouth to elaborate, but Fred beat me to the punch.
“A chihuahua,” he said, pronouncing it “Chuh-hooa-hooa” like
Les Nessman would.
The light turned green and we turned right.
“That did NOT say it was a chihuahua,” I said. “It said it was a chocolate lab!”
“No! Are you sure?” Fred asked.
“It’s a chocolate lab and she’s shy and isn’t wearing a collar,” I said, proving that I’d read the entire sign.
There was a long silence, and then the spud snorted from the back seat. “Yeah!” she said. “Who needs glasses NOW?”
Heh.
* * *
We watched
Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star this past weekend (you just shut up), and I highly recommend it, not necessarily for the movie, but for what’s after the movie. Which is a bunch of former child stars singing a song, with the video reminding me one hell of a lot of
We Are the World. Hell, it’s worth it for the part where Peter Brady chimes in with the cracked voice a la
When it’s Time to Change (“you’ve got to rearraaaaaaaaange whoyaareandwhatyou’reagonnabe ShananananananaNUH, shanananananananNUH!”)
When did those Brady kids get so goddamn old?
* * *
I’d say last night’s episode of
My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance was a bit anticlimactic. What was with that whole speech where Steve talked about how the Coys were so close and cared so much for each other? That was ass-kissy, wasn’t it?
Ah well. I predicted to Fred that they’d get a million bucks no matter what happened, and apparently they can use it. When she was talking about how she’d done it all for them because she knew that Crazy Pat wanted to move out and Melanie wanted to travel and Bobby wouldn’t have to worry about having to afford college, they looked a little embarrassed about the fuss they’d made, didn’t they?
I’d make an ass out of my family for half a million bucks, nooooo problem.
For that matter, if anyone in my family wants to make an ass out of me (though I do a pretty good job of it myself) for $500,000, consider this my blanket permission.
* * *
Reader Erin sent me a card that made her think of me. I can’t IMAGINE why on earth it made her think of me… Heh. Thanks, Erin!
inside:
Personally, I like to bitch.
Which reminded me of the card I saw at Target last year that I just had to buy, even though I didn’t have anyone to send it to:
inside:
I did a crappy thing. please forgive me.
I also got a funny card from
Jane, who signed it in such a way that I laughed out loud and swallowed my gum. Then I showed it to Fred, who didn’t appreciate the humor. Bastard. I’d scan it, but I’m too lazy to go look for the book it’s serving as a bookmark in (my god, that sentence was horribly constructed).
I’m a card-getting motherfucker, that’s right.
* * *
The stump looks pissy for no discernible reason.
The stump storms the perimeter of the yard, trying to find a way out (behind him is a hole in the fence too small to get through. Mr. Fancypants used to love to stand and stare through that hole into the yard next door. Freak.).
He takes a break to slurp down some water from the bowl we leave outside so that our cats don’t have to go any further than a few feet at any given time whenever they happen to be thirsty. God forBID they have to haul their asses all the way upstairs to the water bowl.
Man on a mission. (He wasn’t able to find a way out. Yay!)]]>