2004-02-17

blogrolling‘s bitch. I have a blogroll for everything. I have a blogroll for the blogs I check that are passworded or members-only, I have a blogroll for the blogs and journals I read that I have Change Detect-ed, I have a blogroll for the Go Fuck Yourself ‘burb, and I even have a blogroll so that I can change my links page over. I can’t help it, it’s just so cool! Also, I’m a dork.

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Pet store kitty pics are hither. Also, new movie of the week, starring the Bean and Miz Poo. We call it “Daddy, Don’t You Twirl That Fucking Toy So Fast.”
Mister Boogers and Miz Poo chase the feather toy. from Robyn Anderson on Vimeo.
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Regarding “My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance” last night, I have to say that I was actually a little impressed by the way Randi’s Mom and Dad pulled together to be there for their little princess. I mean, while unhappy enough about the way it was happening, at least they were willing to suck it up and be there for her. That asshole of an older brother of hers on the other hand, with his Jake Busey-looking self, and the dead, flat, serial-killer eyes, what the FUCK? I mean, who on EARTH gives that much of a shit who their sibling marries? I can guarantee you that if I were in Randi’s place, my family might be puzzled and make fun of me and place bets on how long it’d last behind closed doors and toss a coin to see who has to be around to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart, but they’d have the class to pretend to be happy and attend my wedding and plaster big fake smiles on their faces while it was going on. I told Fred that if Randi and her family don’t end up getting the money, she should be sure to let that brother of hers know exactly whose fault it is. What a self-centered jackass. When the actress playing Steve’s mother said “Will there be any simpler appetizers (at the reception)? Steven likes Rice Krispy Treats and Hot Pockets…”, Fred turned to me and said “Steve sounds like our kind of people.” Heh.
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Yesterday was not a good day to be the Bean. (On a side note, we are calling the Bean “Stumpy” and “the stump” more and more lately. This, after Fred wouldn’t let me name him “Stubby” because it would be “making fun of his handicap.” Hmph.) First, he was sleeping in the cat bed which sits on the table at the end of the couch. The cats like sleeping there, especially when the lamp is turned on, because it’s so warm and cozy. Anyway, I glanced over in his direction in time to see him sit up, turn around, yawn, lay down, and then stretch. The bed was a tad too close to the edge of the table and he stretched just a tad too exuberantly, and as I watched, he slid over the side of the table onto his stupid little head. I gasped, which startled Fred, who yelled “What???” from his position two feet away from me. I told him that the Bean fell off the table, and he got mad at me, as though I had gasped ON FUCKING PURPOSE GODDAMNIT IT PISSES ME OFF WHEN HE GETS MAD AT ME FOR SOMETHING I DO INVOLUNTARILY and then I snarled at him and stomped off, but not before checking on the stump, who was sitting on the floor, shaking his head and licking his paw, but was apparently okay. Last night at bedtime, Fred went upstairs and I finished reading my email and followed him, book in one hand and bottle of water in the other. I stepped on the top step, and as my foot went down with no small amount of weight behind it, the mayday horns went off in my head, and an instant later I realized that I was putting my foot down on something warm, furry, and purring. I flung myself onto the other leg, throwing my bottle of water in one direction and my book in the other. The foot I was now standing on slipped, and I skidded down three or four steps, yelling “DAMN IT!” at the top of my lungs. Fred came out of the bedroom, cats scattering in all directions, their tails bushed out and eyes wide and dark. “I’m okay, you need to check Stumpy!” I said. “I think I stepped on him hard! I don’t know where he went…” Where he went was in the master bedroom under the bed, where he was out of danger of having fat women tromp on him. It turned out he was okay, but he was pretty skittish for the rest of the evening, and he certainly kept his eye on me whenever I came near. Poor dumb Stumpy.
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Not long before he went over the side, I believe. The spud took this picture not long after we got the stump. The earnest look on Tubby’s face just cracks me up. ]]>