* * *
While I enjoyed Nance and Rick’s visit very much, there is one thing that happened, that I wish had not. Rick educated Fred in the ways of our new camera (the one we got last month), and now Fred knows (and as a consequence, so do I) that if you just hold down the button on the camera (the one you press when you want to take a picture. I fail to know the correct name for it.), the camera just keeps on snapping pictures, and so if there’s something of interest going on, like cats fighting, you just hold down the button and picture after picture is taken, and chances are good that you will capture one or two good pictures.
Fred, however, does not ever ever ever clear pictures off the memory stick. I clear my pictures off almost immediately – the ones I want to save, I save to my hard drive and delete off the memory stick, the ones that suck I just delete altogether. So while Rick and Nance were here, Fred used the camera sometimes, and I used the camera sometimes and so I had to slog through thirty million pictures like this:
and this:
and also this:
to get to the pictures I took, like such:
I wish that Rick had NOT told Fred about that awesome feature, and instead only told me so that I alone could take picture after picture after picture, and Fred could just take one picture at a time.
After I took my pictures off the memory stick, I took the memory stick over to Fred’s desk and copied the pictures from the memory stick to his hard drive so that when the time comes that he needs pictures like this:
and this:
and perhaps this:
and also this:
he’ll find them on his hard drive under “Memory Stick, October 18, 2007, Motherfucker.”
YOU’RE WELCOME, BABY.
* * *
Also, when Fred
whines and moans about his big baby feelings being hurt that I didn’t fall all over myself gasping with horror that he’s now OFFICALLY a great big cripple, please be assured that:
1. I would feel more sympathy for his aches and pains if he didn’t say “Oh, my foot really hurts. It hurts a lot. God, my foot hurts. Hey, I’m going to go balance on the ladder for many hours and hammer the roof on the shed, buh-bye!” Because I’m so VERY sure that his doctor would suggest – nay, RECOMMEND – that he go balance his entire weight on that foot for hours at a time and then would be shocked and amazed that he hobbles across the floor like an 80 year-old man with no feet at the end of the evening.
2. I did NOT say “Sucks to be you. Hey, Nance fell in love with a kitten at the pet store!” There was a long, meaningful silence after I said “Wow, that really sucks”, while I contemplated the fact that chances are good I’m going to have to wipe his ass on a regular basis before he hits his 50th birthday, what with all his body parts falling directly off his body all the goddamn time, and then I felt it necessary to tell him that Nance had fallen in love with a kitten at the pet store, because it was a vital bit of information that needed to be immediately imparted.
So hush up,
YOU.
* * *
I am continuing to watch and enjoy
Tell Me You Love Me every week, but when there are scenes that show both parties in a sexual encounter, appearing to be completely naked, rubbing together in a good approximation of intercourse, all I can do is get sidetracked by the mechanics of shooting a scene like that. It’s completely distracting to wonder how they’re
not sharing body fluids.
I don’t know that it’s necessary to show as much of the sex scenes as they’re showing. You know, if like
Jamie and her man of the second flash a bit of nakedness and then they cut to
Palek sitting there looking like a slack-jawed idiot (which he does so very well), I think we get the point that Jamie and whatshisface had sex. We don’t really need to see every thrust and grunt. I know the directors and producers think it’s cutting edge what with the people having sex, and I enjoy porn as much as the next person, but I’d like to either have an interesting story with sex alluded to, or porn without the distraction of a good story thrown in there.
It’s telling, I think, that the couple who isn’t having sex is the one most interesting to me.
* * *
Kid Nation spoilers in this section.
1. I know it is wrong to hate a child who only parrots what her horrible parents have taught her, but when Taylor didn’t get the necessary votes to stay on the council, I danced a jig around the living room, and there was a great celebration here at Crooked Acres. Because I CANNOT stand that child.
2. Also, I cannot stand Olivia. I loathe her, and 73% of the loathing is just a visceral dislike for her FACE. I know it’s wrong, I know she’s probably a wonderful bible-thumping self-satisfied child and a boon to the community and all, but I really itch to slap her. Just a little. Just until I can stand the sight of her face. Except that my hand wouldn’t hold up to that amount of slapping.
3. There are too damn many kids on this show. At least twice every show, the camera pans across a kid’s face, and we say “Who the hell is THAT?”
* * *
The KATG fosters have gone to Petsmart. As usual, I still had a metric ton of pictures that I needed to clear off the memory stick, so here are a bunch.
“Hey you guys! I could use some reinforcements over here!”
Slow dancin’ while Chemda looks on.
Khalili loves that toy more than anything on earth.
“Whyyyyyyyyyyy does life have to be so haaaaaaaaaaard?!”
“‘Sup?”
Khalili’s got the giggles.
Yoga Kitty.
Keith, chillin’.
Snuggly Patrice.
Brolo gets his chomp on.
Patrice wants to snuggle; Brolo wants to fight.
Patrice is such a pretty girl.
* * *
Previously
2006: I hope I mean that in a good way. I’m not sure yet.
2005: For at least five full seconds a big cartoon question mark appeared above my head and my brain flipped frantically through the instruction manual trying to figure out just what the fuck was going on.
2004: Myrtle Beach recap.
2003: No entry.
2002: Poor, deformed Miz Poo.
2001: Ya gotta love the Poo.
2000: Remember that episode?
1999: I just love it when I don’t have to cook.]]>