I used to dream That I would meet a prince But God Almighty, Have you seen what’s happened since? “Master of the house”? Isn’t worth me spit “Comforter, philosopher” And lifelong shit Cunning little brain Regular Voltaire Thinks he’s quite a lover But there’s not much there What a cruel trick of nature Landed me with such a louse God knows how I’ve lasted Living with this bastard in the house! I’ve probably watched the Les Mis tape with Fred 5 or more times, and every time we watch it, I reiterate that I really REALLY want to see it on the stage, but that hasn’t happened yet. I swear to god, if I could sing worth a shit, Fred and I would be the best Thénardiers ever. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold a tune with a bucket, so I’ll have to continue being Mme Thénardier only in my dreams. When I wasn’t dreaming about that, I was dreaming that I was attending Jessamyn‘s bachelorette party, and I was freaked out that I hadn’t remembered to bring the Krispy Kremes with me. Apparently bachelorette party = Krispy Kremes in my mind. Of course, ANY occasion is a Krispy Kreme occasion, innit? Here’s another sign that Fred and I are perfect for each other. We are in complete agreement that we should spend as little as possible in Florida, so that when we get home, we can spend whatever’s left of our vacation fund on our wish lists. Heh. We’re such dorks. We went to see Minority Report on Saturday, and though I really liked it, I did NOT enjoy sitting next to Billy Bob ShutTheFuckUp, who was compelled, when not clearing his throat loudly and phlegmily, to remark upon each and every plot point. “HAWHAWHAW, it’s all over NOW!” he would say to his wife in a loud and carrying voice. And every time he made a comment, I could feel my blood pressure rising. I’m amazed, given the length of the movie, that I didn’t have a stroke before it was over. I’m even more amazed that I didn’t dump my super-huge-ass Diet Coke over his big stupid head. Grrr. The big excitement for Friday – aside from the chocolate-pecan brownies Fred made – was that we received something in the mail that was contained in a big box. So the box was opened, the item was removed, and the hijinks, they did begin. Fancypants hops in the box, not ten seconds after it’s been emptied, and settles in for a long nap. Miz Poo says snide things about Fancypants to herself, while waiting for her turn in the box. Spanky patiently waits his turn in the box, and in the meantime wonders how he’d look in that blue bra I hung on the end of the banister. Miz Poo finally takes her turn in the box, and gives me a smug look, because she’s not moving her ass out of the box anytime soon, damnit. Fancypants, all excited about his time in the box, runs into the living room and up onto the back of the couch behind Fred, where he kicks up both of his back legs and indulges in a little self-love licking. Not cat related, but see these purty flowers Fred bought me for no reason? He’s mine, ladies. Hands off! ]]>