- driving around with the top down in Newport Beach listening to Toby Keith (youtubealert) admit he's not as good as he once was, then assure you he's as good once as he ever was. Tell it Toby...
- a little old lady counting her pennies, the copper kind, hundreds of thousands of them the very moment you're in a hurry to get home to cook dinner when the beautiful man-boy ahead of you line turns to you and starts laughing at the Marx Brother's moment with you. I'd tell you the whole story, but thanks to Toby, I'm reminded I'm on my way to being a little old lady. This is me shuttin' up.
|I'll explain later. Maybe. Probably.|
- walking into a Destroyed house after a five day absence to find a six foot ten, grey haired Boy lying on the floor, on this tummy playing with a new toy: an AM radio antenna that's either a monolith from another planet or some sort of fertility idol and it's evidently going to be perched on the bronze 18th century French torchiere from now on so we can catch all the LA Dodger games. Yet another way the Dodgers consistently break my heart.
- a surprised grey-haired boy surveying said Destroyed house from his position on the floor, on his tummy, who turns to you sheepishly, and, in all seriousness saying, "I was going to dust".
- 400 processed cheese slices in the refrigerator and on the counter, I swear to God, a deep fryer. Damn you Megalomart
- a coffeemaker that pollaxes you and every Keurig K-Cups ever made. If megalomart ever begins to sell these all is forgiven, like... forever.
- training a dog about "Sit &Wait". My version consists of Chaka Khan telling my dog and I that she's every woman, while I flail my arms wildly, a stuffed clown in one hand and a noise maker in the other in the more otimistic than realistic hope that your insane Labrador Retriever will allow you to have people into your home without having to make sure they make eye contact with you when you tell them, "She's a drunk in a bar. Don't make eye contact." Not that I know anything about drunks. Or bars. Seriously. I am not a very good bar girl. Library girl I do. Having witnessed the eye contact and the over-attachment that results, it does seem to be a good analogy.
- finding out that the state of California imports manhole covers from Belgium
|The budget debacle makes so much more sense now|
There's more but I have to go help someone find a strainer. He's deep frying chicken for eight people who won't be here and were never planning to be here as well as the two people who will. There will be vegetable oil everywhere. By next week I'm hoping to see the perfect in those moments. btw, does anyone need any processed cheese slices....or butter..... or kettle chips? I have, in order, 400 of the first, 8lbs of the middle and a case of the end unit. Speaking of which, this is the end of this unit.