Sopranos spoilers; skip to the next section if you haven’t seen the final episode.
I think that was a shitty final episode and I think David Chase is a flaming asshole. I think Tony needed to die and I especially think AJ needed to die a long, drawn-out, very painful death. I was glad to see Phil die (I kinda liked the over-the-top aspect of it) and I really wanted to see Tony die. I mean, really REALLY wanted to see him die, don’t ask me why.
Ah well. At least Entourage will be back next week!
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When it comes to this whole Paris Hilton thing, I swing between feeling sorry for her (SHUT UP, I can’t help it. She’s such a fucking idiot that I feel sorry for her – to think you’re getting out of jail, only to find out they’re throwing you back in, well, it’s gotta suck in a big way) and wishing David Chase would kill HER off. I mean, did you KNOW that all you had to do to get out of jail is cry in your cell every night? I did not, but I’ll keep that in mind for next time I’m tossed in jail for driving without a license. Driving without a license not once, but twice, I mean. Oh wait, I mean driving without a license AND SPEEDING. Goddamn idiot. Like Mommy and Daddy can’t afford a driver for her?
I guess you can tell how I’m feeling toward her right now, huh?
And while I’m babbling about entertainment news, those
Lindsay Lohan/ Vanessa Minnillo pictures? Those are supposed to be so horrifying that Nick Lachey is “standing by” Vanessa Minnillo? Seriously? Fucking yawnsville. Not much going on in celebrity news this week, obviously.
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I was cross and felt at loose ends yesterday. We went to Lowe’s and spent far too long there, looking for things on our list. When we got home, I ran to the grocery store, then made a loaf of zucchini bread and some potato salad and puttered around the house and did this and that and put clean sheets on my bed and Fred’s bed (which is the one and only thing you will ever hear me badmouth about having separate beds – it means you have to wash twice as many sheets. NOT FAIR.) and washed the dirty ones and hung them out to dry, and read a little and balanced the checkbook and set up the new bird baths, and all I could think was that there was something to do that I hadn’t done, but I never did figure out what that was.
Saturday, we did a lot of driving around looking for a truck for Fred, and
ended up getting one. It’s a nice, shiny truck that looks a lot better (and runs a lot better, too) than you’d expect a 14 year-old truck to look. The air conditioning runs really well, too.
Now I’m trying to convince Fred that we should trade his main vehicle in for a yellow Volkswagen Beetle for me, and he can drive my Reno back and forth to work to save on gas. I don’t seem to be convincing him, though, damnit. Ah well.
It took, basically, a matter of a couple of hours before That Bastard Tom Cullen was jumping the fence in the back yard. As long as we’re out there keeping an eye on him he behaves himself, but the instant you’re not paying attention, the shithead is over the fence. This means Fred will be running the electric fence just inside the fence, and we’ll be putting a collar on Tommy, and probably Mister Boogers as well. I don’t think we need to worry about Sugarbutt – he’s very skittish outside – and Spot can’t jump or climb that well due to his arthritis. Miz Poo seems to be happy to hang out in the back yard, and Spanky has hardly even gone out there. If we have to buy more collars we will, but hopefully Tommy and the Boog are the only ones we need to worry about.
Maxi and Newt like to hang out in the back yard with our cats, and what’s funny is that at least once yesterday (we let them out while we were eating dinner – we eat dinner in the back yard a lot these days) Newt saw Tommy out of the corner of his eye, apparently thought he was Maxi, and rubbed up against him. At one point I think Mister Boogers mistook Newt for Sugarbutt, because he went over to him, stood over him (Newt was sprawled on the ground), and gave him the squinty-eyed “I’m about to show you who the boss is” look, and then seemed to realize that he wasn’t looking at Sugarbutt.
Naturally Miz Poo showed her ass a few times, growling at Maxi, who just looked at her like “You want to try me, bitch?” Miz Poo is all talk, so she backed right off.
Speaking of cats (and aren’t I always?), Tina Louise actually asked to be petted this morning. I was sitting on the floor and she came over and slumped against my knee, then let me pet her for the longest time. Little Spanky will let you pet him on the head for a few moments before he goes bounding off, but I’ll be darned if I can get my hands on Maryanne or Gilligan. They’re calmer about having me in the room than they were at first, at least. They’ll come out and play and occasionally come over to sniff at my feet before they go skittering off.
And they’re so freakin’ cute, I am almost overcome with the need to pick them up and squeeze them, every time I go in that room. I haven’t yet, but I can only be strong for so long, people!
“All full up on the petting for now, thanks.”
Maryanne’s pretty markings.
“You want WHAT? A snuggle? Oh, it is to LAAAAAUGH!”
“Please, can it be adoption time now?”
“I SAY, you want to adopt me now, RIGHT?”
In ur internetz, plotting ur downfall.
A ton more uploaded pictures,
over at Flickr.
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“I think you does not unnerstand, lady. Ah HETS THEM KITTENS. HET.”
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Previously
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.
2004: WAS IT REALLY FUCKING NECESSARY TO CLOSE THE POST OFFICE ALL DAY TODAY?
2003: Fancypants goes missing.
2002: Look! It’s PMSing South Park Robyn!
2001: Poor people are so funny, aren’t they?
2000: No entry.]]>