TI-I-I-IME’S NOT ON MY SIDE… NO IT AIN’T…
What with two house showings this weekend and an all-day Peter Pan rehearsal Sunday – editing time is nigh on non-existent.
So here are some links to previous posts: Salsa Counts as a Vegetable right?, Underwear Addict, 23 Days Later and The Fabulous Lesbian Muffcrats and for your viewing pleasure, a picture of Steve the Cat.
This weekend is the weekend things are supposed to get done. Caulking (snerk – yes, I have the mind of a 12 year-old boy) of windows and such. Maybe even a hedge trimming (snerk). Round 1 of leaf raking was Thursday. My inner thighs and quads are still complaining about that. I guess I don’t…
WARNING: LANGUAGE Rissa was snuggled into her bed. I was lying beside her. From the main floor we heard David: “BLAAAAARGH!!!!!! SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!!! ARGH!! FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!” Followed by “I’m FINE!. FUCK!!! I’M FINE!“ David stomp, stomp stomps back up the stairs. “Grumble, grumble, grumble…” “What happened?” I asked, maintaining a straight face….
Before we bought our beautiful heritage house, we had a meeting with the bank where they looked at our debt ratio. I was depressed. I was sure that we wouldn’t be able to afford the house. But then, miracles of miracles, the bank said yes we could. The bank lied. In the 70s? My family…
Strict instructions had been given. We would not start Christmas until 7:00 a.m. Meaningful parent eyes glared to impart the importance of the rising time. David and I were toasty warm in our bed. At 7:03, a Christmas Cheer rendition of Deck the Halls was bellowed from the living room. It was not Rissa. Rissa…
Smiling… laughing – that’s okay, but if you catch me on film/pixels while I’m talking, I look like I’m either in the midst of an epileptic fit, morphing into a velociraptor or channelling Lucille Ball in one of the episodes where she has to deal with stomping grapes or packaging chocolates. Below is a pic…
“Quick! We have to distract them!” David says. “How?” Suddenly it comes to him. He lifts up his shirt, wets his finger, draws a cirle around his nipple, all the while singing Barnum’s Circus March. “Do-do-doodle-doodle-do-do-do-do….” He whispers, “It’s called ‘CLOWNING.’ Depending on the patterning around your nipple – it will act as a code.”…