That BASTARD! He never shared any of his Tim Tams with ME!
Big thanks to reader Raqual, who sent the scanned article to me about an hour after she found out what I needed. You Aussies rock!
(For the record, Fred’s more amused by this than mad. Mostly because it makes him giggle with glee to think of the Australian Men’s Health editor saying “Oh, no one will ever know…” a few months ago, and then coming into his office today to find emails and phone calls letting him know he’s busted.)
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Pet store kitty pics are
here.
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If I had been successful in setting up a TV-and-movie blog last night, I would be able to direct you there, where I’d have a movie of William Hung singing She Bangs with BACKUP DANCERS on the
American Idol special last night.
However, although I created the blog, I wasn’t able to get the frickin’ entries to archive by category (wouldn’t it be a good idea to archive the entries by category, so that someone could click on, say, the
American Idol category and read all the posts in that category?) and although I tried following the instructions I found online, I couldn’t get the damn thing to work, so I gave up in a huff and deleted the blog.
Damn you, Movable Type! Damn you!
Speaking of
American Idol, was that a great show last night, or what? I mean, just seeing the Bulgarian girl with the really deep voice was worth it, let alone seeing William Hung sing TWO songs. The only one I wanted to see but didn’t was the girl whose voice was creeping Randy out, because every time she’d sing, lightning would crash outside.
Seeing William Hung with backup singers was funny as shit, especially the way they all waved their arms in the air when he did.
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Ever since I’ve been driving the Jeep that used to be Fred’s, I’ve been enjoying it. It has all the little amenities that my old Jeep didn’t, like seats that warm up (we’ve always called it “ass”, as in “DAMN it’s cold in here, give me some ass!”), a sunroof, a kick-ass stereo (in my old Jeep, the stereo sucked so badly that I could only listen to it out of the front right speaker, and that only as long as I didn’t turn the bass on), and leather seats. I mean, forgetting that we’ve spent way too much on repairs in the past year, this Jeep really rocks.
There’s one thing that doesn’t rock at ALL, though, and that’s the door that lifts up so that you can get into the very back of the Jeep. You know, where you put groceries since there’s no trunk. The door opens just fine, and lifts up just fine, but as for staying up? Not so much. I discovered this lovely little fact when I was loading groceries into the back last week. As I turned to grab another bag out of the grocery cart*, the door swung down and smacked me on top of my head.
And it fucking HURT, believe you me. I yelled “OW!”, and told myself to be more careful in the future.
Since then, I’ve been smacked in the head two more times, each hurting more than the last. When there are things like big-ass bags of cat food in the back of the Jeep, and I need both hands to pick it up, and it APPEARS as though the door is going to stay up, I tend to take the chance.
One of these days instead of slowly swinging down, the door is going to fly down at a rapid speed when I least expect it and
::clunk:: me on the top of my already sore noggin and I’ll drop like a bag of shit, and Fred’s going to come home from work to find me dead in a puddle of blood in the middle of the driveway, surrounded by melting groceries.
And when that happens, dear readers, I expect you all to hound Fred so that he feels guilty until the very day that he dies for passing such a lemon on to me.
(Perhaps it’s all part of his plan to kill me off so he can get his hands on Miz Poo?)
* They call grocery carts “buggies” here in the south. For some reason, that cutesy word drives me NUTS. I loathe it! Gah!
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