Dude. That was a mighty long sentence, wasn’t it?
So anyway, be patient – the giveaway will take place the week after they leave with the spud (they leave on June 6th, so the week after that), and there’s plenty of good stuff. Something for everyone here at BitchyMart!
* * *
I went to Lowe’s twice this week. Tuesday, for sandpaper (more on that in a sec) and today for a couple of houseplants and some potting soil. Until about a month ago, I completely avoided going to Lowe’s at all, and I’ve been there so often since that I think I’ve absorbed an overload of testosterone and will be growing my own penis any moment now.
* * *
I was catching up on my journal reading (I’m about a week behind at this point – but I’m still caught up on my email, and the last time I was caught up on my email for more than a week, was… NEVER!) this morning, and I read Say’s May 1st entry, which reminded me of a discussion Fred and I had about the fact that Puff Daddy is supposed to have a show along the lines of The Osbournes. We were both of the opinion that such a show would SUCK because P. Diddly Doo (™Shepard Smith) is way too conscious of his image and would never really let go the way the Osbournes do. Borrr-ring.
Then I thought of the PERFECT people to carry a show like that. Pamela Anderson and Kid Rock! That would be almost as good as Ozzy and family, because those two are guaranteed to be a total freakshow.
* * *
Y’all, there exists a Calvin and Hobbes strip, where Calvin is having his school picture taken, and in the last frame of the strip, his hair is slicked back, and he’s got a big, goony smile on his face. If someone could either scan that strip and send it to me or even just let me know which C&H book it’s in, I’d be eternally grateful (Later note: Got it! Big thanks to reader Lisbeth, who passed it along to me. Thanks, Lisbeth!).
* * *
I was at Target earlier, and as I wandered through the bakery section at the front of the store, I stopped and checked out the sushi for about the billionth time. I always stop, consider buying some, and then keep moving. Today, I bought some. California Roll because, according to the ingredient list there was no uncooked seafood in it, and because it looked pretty good.
It rocked. I loved it. I see a strong love for sushi in my future.
* * *
I finally hauled my ass to the store yesterday (and if you’ve seen my ass, you know that’s quite an undertaking, hawhaw) and bought a collar to fit around the pencil-neck of one Mr. Fancypants. The engraved tag I ordered last week came over the weekend, and since the little bastard is still hopping the fence regularly, I felt it pretty important that he be collared and tagged.
Fred laughed his ass off when he saw that the name on the tag read "Mr. Fancypants." But, please. If someone were to call and ask "Are you the owners of Stimpy?" We’d probably reply with "Stimpy? No… Oh, wait! Yeah, he’s ours…", whereas if they referred to his as Mr. Fancypants, we’d immediately say "He doesn’t make us call him Mister."
So, I bought a red collar, but only because the pink ones were too big, and it had a bell on it, and when Fred got home, we captured Fancypants and put the collar around his skinny neck.
"Should we take the bell off?" I asked as I was fastening the collar.
"No," Fred said, giggling cruelly. "Let’s see what happens."
Well, what happened is that Fancypants took a single step, heard a bell ringing from his neck, and mildly freaked out. He ran upstairs, hopped over Spanky, who was lounging at the top, and ran into the master bedroom, where he curled up miserably behind the chair.
Spot, who had been snoozing on the bed, had his back arched and his tail fluffed out and was staring at Fancypants by the time we got upstairs.
Fancypants ran from the chair, across the bed, and hid underneath my dresser, in a big fancy ball of hate.
Eventually, we took the bell off the collar and Fancypants has pretty much adjusted – thankfully, he’s not one of the high-strung ones – though occasionally he’ll retire to the table by the front door and shoot hate rays at anyone who walks by.
He’s got such long fur that you can’t even see the collar when he’s curled up like that.
* * *
As I was sitting at the red light in front of Sam’s this morning, I glanced up at the sky, and saw that it was so dark and scary that I half expected a twister to drop out of the sky and carry me away to Oz.
Fortunately for me – and unfortunately for you – that didn’t happen. Good thing, too, because I would never have experienced the wonder that is sushi.
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