Minuit, the oldest and most crotchety of our cats has a predilection for lap dances. Not the pervy receiving of… it’s not like she’s hanging around at the Brass Rail with $5 bills in her paws, waggling her eyebrows at the dancers. This cat, this 6 year old, overweight feline… she gives a kick-ass, albeit…
I’ve never been a real eyeshadow kind of gal. My eyelid landscape is less pastoral and more one bedroom walk-up. Sure, in my late teens, I went all out with the blue eyeliner and shadow, but lately, I’ve stuck mostly to some eyeliner on my upper lids. If I’m heading out for something fancy, something…
“Oh God… gag… gag… BLECH… shudder “What? What is it?” David asks from upstairs. “Putting molasses on top of peanut butter toast doesn’t help,” I say. “Anne-Marie was wrong.” I shudder, still gagging, as I begin to scrape the molasses layer off of my peanut butter. gag… gag… Two days ago, when I was complaining…
Blergh. “You okay?” I don’t even want to admit what I’ve done. “Fine. I’m fine.” David’s eyebrows raise. I’m sitting on the sofa in our petite grande room. I have a Rusty Nail in one hand and cheap-ass Christmas romance collection in the other. “I might have eaten bad things,” I mumble. “Pardon me?” “grumble……
We are in the Men’s Outerwear department at Sears. (David has finally abandoned his attempts to zip up his existing jacket with an XL paper clip.) “This one. This one is good.” David holds up a long, black parka. “You haven’t tried it on yet.” “Yes, but it LOOKS good. Good hood, good pockets…” David…
David has been wanting to upgrade my computer for the past two years. About a month ago, I finally capitulated. “All right.” “All right?” “Start the search.” “The search for…? “A new computer.” “REALLY!?!” “Really.” I couldn’t take the endless UNRESPONSIVE SCRIPT warnings and time lags – which is hilarious, because anyone in their 40s…
I recently made the mistake of looking at the nutritional information on the President’s Choice “World’s Best” Eggnog. 1 cup = 290 calories. 290 CALORIES??? Without the rum?? Sure, on occasion, one might drink eggnog sans rum, but I don’t. Which means that I’ve gotta add that extra 72 calories for an ounce of rum. …
Self-control, why hast thou forsaken me? I know that I shouldn’t eat this shit. I know that. I’m a grown up, I’ve lived with my body for long enough to understand how it works. So….. WHY CAN’T I STOP MYSELF?? I’m going to hell. It’s the freaking holiday season, sending…
WARNING: This post might gross some readers out. “Mummy, I’ve got something that you can pop on my back,” says Rissa as she comes down the stairs. I leap up from my chair. “You do!?!” This is groundbreaking. Rissa rarely lets me anywhere close to Zit Country. I can usually see it only from the…
“Do you have that little carpenter’s level handy?” I ask. David looks over at me from his side of the bed. “Because why?” “Because I’m feeling pretty askew here,” I say looking down at my torso. My boobs are doing a great impersonation of a ship in distress – listing to the west. “We have…