This one. Is it not the MOST adorable tattoo you’ve ever seen??
I can’t wait.
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So, a couple of nights ago I told Fred I wanted to start saving for an iPod. He gave me a hard time for a few minutes – since I just bought a $20 CD player that plays MP3s last week – then told me it was fine with him. Yesterday, some unexpected money dropped right into our laps, and he told me to go ahead and get an iPod. I didn’t get one of the newest ones, the ones that play videos and holds 632 years’ worth of songs (I mostly want the iPod for when I exercise in the morning, and I can’t see myself burning many calories trudging down the road watching videos on my iPod); instead, I got a refurbished 4GB iPod Mini. In blue!
I am very VERY excited about getting an iPod; more excited that I should be, perhaps. But ever since I found out that there are
Grey’s Anatomy podcasts and
Lost podcasts, I’ve been pro-iPod. I know I could burn it to a CD and listen to it on my CD/ MP3 player, but I just… I don’t know! I want an iPod, damnit! I want to be one of the cool kids! Not as cool as the kids who can watch videos, but still! Cool!
Oh, how stylin’ I will be, walking around the neighborhood every morning with my badass iPod. And when the snobs ignore me, I will hold my iPod up to them, and I will say “Bitches, you WISH you were as COOL as me!”, and they will watch me go with regretful hearts.
Bitches.
* * *
By the way, I listened to all three of
Kim‘s podcasts this morning while I was exercising – they’re called “What I Watched”, and are basically just Kim talking about what she’s watched recently on TV – and LOVED them. If you have a favorite podcast you think I might enjoy, tell me so in the comments, complete with link, please.
Oh, and while I’m thinking of podcasts and stuff, several people have suggested that Fred and I should start our own podcasts.
I think that Hell hasn’t quite reached the level of frigidity necessary for that.
First of all, any podcast we made would be like such:
Fred: Say something, Bessie!
Robyn: Baby, what the fuck? What am I supposed to say. (baby talk) Hey, Suggie! Suggie-sugs, come say something into the microphone!
Sugarbutt: (purr)
Fred: (baby talk) Suggie! Hey, little Sugs! (/baby talk) Holy crap, was that necessary?
Robyn: Was what? Oh MAN. Suggie, get your stinky butt out of here!
And so on.
Second of all, we both hate our voices and to release them forth into the world would be a cruelty beyond measure. So for now, we’ll be sticking to the written word.
On the other hand, I think I said just last month “What would I need an iPod for?”, so times change.
* * *
For those of you who asked how the SoftPaws are working out for us: They seem to be working just fine, though Tommy and Sugarbutt have each lost a single cap, so we had to replace them last night. The downside to the SoftPaws is that since it doesn’t hurt when Sugarbutt kneads on me at night while he’s licking my neck, he kneads and licks FOREVER, and I finally have to say “Jesus god in heaven, do you MIND? I’d like to keep SOME of the skin on my neck, you freak!”, and he looks at me with glazed, love-drunk eyes, then gives a few more licks before he curls up on top of my upper arm and goes to sleep. And then I say “Enjoy it while you can, Sugarfreak, my upper arm’s not always going to be the size of a ham!”, kiss him on his little head, and go back to sleep.
Every morning when Fred gets out of the shower, Sugarbutt adores licking the water from his hair.
Boogie wants you to kiss him right THERE.
Suggie goes after the feather toy. Which, coincidentally, matches his nails.
“Word to yer mutha.”
He believes he can fly. He believes he can touch the sky-y-y!
All of today’s uploaded pictures (there are a ton) are
here.
* * *
Previously
2005: Impromptu day off.
2004: I’m going to save a fortune on tampons, that’s for sure.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Damn that Sam’s.
2000: Heartless bastard.]]>