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the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
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For those of you on the notify list, I apologize for the typo that went out in yesterday's message. I considered running home and committing seppuku, so great was my shame (and she calls herself an editor!), but I decided my apartment had already seen enough blood. Speaking of, yesterday I cleaned up another tiny little droplet on the floor that I had overlooked. Let's hear it for arterial spray (and somewhat lax housekeeping). As we all know from watching television and reading Poe, the thing about blood is that YOU NEVER GET IT ALL: I warned LT that I had better not ever turn up missing or he is so screwed, what with all the trace evidence in the kitchen. I had better not ever turn up missing anyway. Then where would I be? I like Kymm's diary. Not only does she update every freaking day, which I admire, but she subscribes to my philosophy that an entry need not be about anything portentous or important. Oh wait, that's not a philosophy, that's just the fact that my head is stuffed full of minutiae. For instance, one of the great urban mysteries: the gym shoes thrown over telephone wires. What's with that? I've heard everything from it's a signal that drugs are sold there (which is possible---but improbable---in my neighborhood. Unless those Orthodox kids are more rebellious than it first appears) to it just being a hoax akin to crop circles. Or maybe it's just a form of inter-kid torture: hold someone down, strip off his shoes, and toss them over the telephone line. I really don't have much of a chin. I don't want a big old Jay Leno chin or anything, but a little more chin would be nice. So while I don't think I'm a circus freak or hideously deformed, I am kind of sensitive about my lack of a chin, so stop looking at it, okay? If I could, I would grow a beard, but that would sort of by definition make me a circus freak. LT doesn't have much of a chin either. Hopefully these traits won't multiply should we ever decide to reproduce, or else there will just be a black hole exerting tremendous gravitational force where our baby's chin should be. Again with the damn medieval word-a-day calendar: Today is apparently the feast day of St Felicity of Rome, patroness of heirs and heiresses. Do they really need a feast day? Born with the proverbial silver spoon and they get a feast day besides. Life's just not fair sometimes. ---mimi smartypants, Patroness of Gin and Tonic back/forward |
