can, without warning, release a stink that burns off your nose hairs? Purring all the while? Damn, I love that picture. She looks so very content, laying there getting her wiry little cat hairs all over the spud’s sweater. We are being forced to go to a PTA meeting this evening, and Fred and I are both pissed off about it. How is it that we’re being forced to attend, you ask? Simple – they’re holding our child hostage until the end of the meeting, wherein she and the rest of the 6th-grade band will play three or four songs. Do I want to go sit through an eternal PTA meeting, listen to endless amounts of people babble endlessly? Um, no. Does Fred? Um, HELL no. If you have PTA-related information to share with me, send it home in the form of a newsletter; don’t FORCE me to attend by using my child as collateral. I’ve told Fred several times that this is the only way they’ll get people to show up for the fucking thing. No doubt I’ll end up sitting in the parking lot, reading by the overhead light, and checking the gym every fifteen minutes, so that I won’t miss seeing her play. I had to go get my driver’s license this morning, since it expired a month ago and I can only justify driving around illegally for just so long. If I were to go on tempting fate, I’d get zinged sooner or later, I figured, so I sucked it up and went to the grocery store (the DMV has offices in the Bruno’s around the corner). Because I actually had a book with me to pass the time while standing in line, there was no line at all, and it took me something like five minutes before I was on my way again. The picture came out about like you’d expect, but not as bad as my previous driver’s license picture. As I was out running errands, I started thinking about this goofy little thing that Fred and I do from time to time, and started laughing my ass off. Don’t you hate it when you’re driving along laughing so hard you’re practically crying and everyone driving around you is staring at you like you’ve recently been released from the loony bin, or is it just me? Anyway, the goofy little thing we occasionally do is that, out of nowhere, I’ll bust out, for no reason, with "Who let the Poo out?" (yes, very original, I know). Always, ALWAYS, with no lag time whatsoever, Fred responds with a "Meow! Myow-myow-myow!" to the tune of "Who let the dogs out". It invariably cracks me up. Maybe you just have to be there… ]]>
02/13/2001