* * *
Heard in our living room the other night, as we were watching something or other on Fox News.
Me: So, it’s okay for us to have nuclear weapons, but not North Korea?
Fred: Yes.
Five minutes pass in silence. Fox goes to commercial.
Fred: That was a cowardly yellow-dog liberal DEMOCRAT thing to say.
Me: (laughing) I was just wondering. It seems a bit bossy to be all “No, it’s okay for US to have nuclear weapons, but YOU can’t have them.”
Fred: Because they’re openly hostile to us!
Me: Well, we’re openly hostile to other countries, too.
Fred: Name one.
Me: (thinking quickly) Iraq!
Heh. I love fucking with that man. I think next I’ll tell him I’m going to a war protest.
* * *
1. Who is your favorite celebrity? Hm. Do I have a favorite? I’m not sure. Let me think about that. I like Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt, so I’ll go with them for the moment.
2. Who is your least favorite? Burt Reynolds. I HATE him. Madonna annoys me too, but I don’t hate her the way I hate Burt Reynolds.
3. Have you ever met or seen any celebrities in real life? I saw Jean Smart (from Designing Women) at Disneyland once – she was with a screaming child and looked very unhappy. I also saw whatshisface, the guy who direction Edward Scissorhands and Batman. What the hell’s his name? Tim Burton (I looked it up). I saw Tim Burton and his then-girlfriend Lisa Marie at baggage claim at LAX probably ten or twelve years ago. And of course, I met Stephen King (he is SO a celebrity) at a book signing in ’84 or thereabouts.
4. Would you want to be famous? Why or why not? FUCK no. There are a lot of lunatics out there, and I’m not up for that shit. It’s bad enough that I have to deal with the occasional online loon.
5. If you had to trade places with a celebrity for a day, who would you choose and why? Jennifer Lopez, because I’ve never sat on a $100,000 toilet seat. Besides that, she seems to really enjoy her life, so I wouldn’t mind checking it out. Wouldn’t want to have sex with Ben Affleck, though.
* * *
I went a little overboard when I ordered Gladiolus bulbs this year. I thought I ordered 40 bulbs, when in reality I ordered 80. And with my new only-container-gardening rule, I only have room for about 20 or 30 of those. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest; either toss them (which I don’t want to do) or talk Fred into digging a new plant bed in the yard (which I also don’t want to do) or dig a new plant bed in the yard myself (which ain’t gonna happen). I suppose I could buy more containers to plant them in, but Glads like full sunlight, and there’s a limited amount of space where I can put containers so that they’ll get full sunlight.
I’m all dilemmanated, is what I am.
* * *
I think I’m about to have to buy a front carrier to carry Miz Poo around, like
Rob does with Bucky. I don’t know what it is, but the last several days, she just always wants to be ON me. When I’m done working out in the garage and walk into the house, she’s always sitting on the counter in the kitchen, and she launches herself at me, fully believing that I’ll catch her. And of course I do.
She’s constantly wanting up on the desk, then gets mad when I try to get my arms around her to the keyboard, so she stalks off. Two minutes later, she’s smacking at my ass so I’ll turn around, so that she can jump up on my leg and then onto the desk, where the whole vicious cycle repeats itself.
I love her, but she sure is a pain in the ass sometimes.
In other cat news, Fancypants spent night number 4 outside. We had heard it might rain, so Fred brought him inside, but the swishing and pitiful ear-shattering meowing commenced. I suggested that Fancypants might show his displeasure by shitting on the floor somewhere (and I followed up that suggestion with “And if he does, he’s spending EVERY FUCKING NIGHT outside from now on!”), so Fred gave up and let him back outside. It didn’t rain, but one of these days it will, and that little bastard will RUE the day he insisted on spending his nights outside, yes indeed.]]>