Compare that to now:
They grow so fast, don’t they?
For a mushy-type entry with tons of pictures, check
last year’s entry.
* * *
I got an email from someone this morning telling me that they were seriously interested in buying bitchypoo.com and that if I were interested in selling it, I should respond to their email with an asking price.
I’m seriously uninterested in selling the domain, but I guess it’s nice to be asked.
I should have said my asking price was $25,000 just to see what they said.
* * *
I went into Huntsville yesterday around noon, which was a big, big, HUGE mistake. I hit the pet store to buy some kitten food, and it wasn’t too terribly busy. Then I went over to Target to get something for the spud’s birthday, and it was PACKED. Not only was it packed, but it was packed with dumbasses who simultaneously did not know of the
move your fucking cart to the side of the aisle if you’re going to stop and look at something rule, and were also ignorant of the concept of
my personal bubble. I guess maybe because I’m fat I get less of a bubble than other people? Is that how that works? The skinny people get a nice big bubble of personal space, but when it comes to the fat chicks, it’s A-OK to be an inch and a half from my ass?
I will tell you that when someone invades my bubble, it makes me extremely tense and hostile, and I have to fight the urge to turn around and scream “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you need to get a little closer? Didn’t you intend to actually be UP.MY.ASS, because it appears you’re headed in that direction. If I SIT ON YOU, will you back up about five inches?”
So I got what I needed at Target and then drove through the horrendous traffic to Sam’s, where I couldn’t find a fucking parking space within half a mile of the store, and I threw up my hands and said “FUCK THIS”, because if there are THAT many cars in the parking lot, that could only mean that the lines inside were all going to be 63 people long, and I hate having to fight my way through Sam’s, get my Splenda and water, and then have to stand in line for-fucking-ever.
So I went home.
I guess next time I decide to hit Sam’s, I should do my best to get there right as they open, before the crowds descend.
* * *
“What? You’ve never seen a cat in a box?”
“Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuuuu!”
“Happy birthday, dear spu-ud! Happy birthday to youuuuuuuuuuu!”
Nuttin’ happier than a sleeping kitten.
Jazz hands!
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
here.
* * *
Previously
2004: I hope you dance.
2003: No entry.
2002: “You want to buy STUFF faster than we get rid of it!” he accused shrilly.
2001: Well, the little bastard is home again.
2000: No entry.
1999: Boring work-related shit.]]>