Many thanks to Heather and Aimee, who went wayyy above and beyond the call of duty yesterday. Man, I spent half the day laughing my ass off, y’all. And thanks to Himself, who gave me a buttload of books for my birthday (which I won’t list, because they’re upstairs and I’m downstairs and I’m a lazy bitchypoo). Thanks also to everyone who emailed to tell me how they were celebrating my birthday, from carrying a yellow bag to work instead of their usual black bag, to calling their significant other "Ya fuckin’ idiot" – that one was very, very popular, big surprise.
So, I was sitting in the computer room talking on the phone to my mother yesterday, and someone pulled up in front of our house and TOOK A PICTURE of the front of the house and drove off. That fucking freaks me out. I HOPE IT WASN’T ANY OF MY READERS. Mostly because if you tried to break into my house and do nasty, dirty things to me, you’d run into our half-insane Rottweiller, James, who’s been trained to attack the crotch of anyone he doesn’t know.
You’ve been warned.
Actually, after she drove off, she slowed down and may have taken a picture of a house halfway down the cul-de-sac, so maybe she was just taking pictures of random houses. It’s still creepy, though.
Say’s recent entry about her trip to Wal-Mart made me think of the time I was there a few months ago. I ended up in line behind a husband and wife who had a HUGE cart of stuff. The cashier finished ringing up everything, and the husband looked at the total and said "Oh my god! What did you BUY?!", and he and the poor cashier spent the next TEN MINUTES looking at the receipt and matching it to EVERY fucking thing in the cart. I wanted to scream "IF YOU WERE THAT FUCKING INTERESTED IN HOW MUCH EVERYTHING COST, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION WHEN SHE WAS RINGING IT ALL UP!" The cashier kept giving me "I’m SO sorry about this!" looks, and I would have gone to another line, but it was a busy day where there were ten people in every line.
I’m currently reading Gut Feelings by Carnie Wilson (oh, shaddup), and here’s a tidbit you probably didn’t know about Carnie: she was a big pothead and admits to still occasionally smoking. Say it ain’t so, Carnie! The scandal!
Speaking of Carnie Wilson, back when Wilson Phillips was big, with Hold On and Release Me, I used to deliver newspapers in the early morning (it sucked, and I never made any kind of money, and I don’t have any idea why I bothered), and four fucking mornings in a row, the DJ working the early morning shift at the radio station I used to listen to while delivering papers would play Release Me and then say "Hold On, Release Me, I wish they’d make up their minds! HawHawHaw!"
Y’all are saying "Wilson who? Hold On? Isn’t that that Top-40s crap from the early ’90s?", aren’t you?
I think I’m going to go lay on the couch and watch some more Friends and feel old. See you tomorrow!
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