6/16/08

Lisa mentioned in my comments on Friday that your RSS feed through Bloglines hasn’t updated since June 3.. From what I read over the weekend (at Swistle, among other places), Bloglines seems to be having some sort of issue wherein a lot of RSS feeds aren’t updating. So I’m guessing it’s a Bloglines issue, not … Continue reading “6/16/08”

Lisa mentioned in my comments on Friday that your RSS feed through Bloglines hasn’t updated since June 3..

From what I read over the weekend (at Swistle, among other places), Bloglines seems to be having some sort of issue wherein a lot of RSS feeds aren’t updating. So I’m guessing it’s a Bloglines issue, not a Bitchypoo issue – which is a relief, because I’d have NO idea how to fix it if it was my fault.

I myself use Google Reader and haven’t had any problems with it at all. I recommend it!

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While having a recent email discussion with someone regarding Botox, I remembered something I’d recently read in a magazine – something that made me laugh out loud – and I had to go look for it to share with y’all.

Making Faces

The first time I got cosmetic injections, my eyebrows dropped down my forehead until I looked like a cave woman. Apparently the dermatologist had injected the wrong muscle group. My coworkers elected a spokesperson to tell me to never do it again. They called me “angry eyes.” I even had to have my company-ID photograph reshot. When I went back to the doctor, he told me I was going to have to wear sunglasses for a month, until the effects wore off.

That’s from Real Simple magazine, the May ’08 issue.

Something about the nickname “Angry Eyes” just makes me laugh and laugh.

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Fred had Thursday and Friday off, which gave him a four day weekend. Somehow, those four days just FLEW by. He spent most of Friday and Sunday working outside, but on Saturday after a relaxing morning of cutting up half a tree and hauling it over to the burn pile, he decided to take the rest of the day off. He watched a loud movie, took a nap, hung out with me, we took a drive to buy some tomatoes (since it seems like it’ll be forEVER before ours are ripe), and then he watched another loud movie while I sat in the recliner and read.

We got a buttload of rain on Friday, and I know we needed the rain (and the garden, especially, loved it), but I just hate how muggy it gets after a hard rain. Not to mention, the FLIES seem to triple.

Ugh, the flies. I know I’ve got no damn room to talk about the damn flies, since it should have maybe occurred to me that 49 chickens and two pigs just might attract a fly or two. We don’t get a ton of flies in the house (thank god), and even when we do I can kill them pretty quickly (I’m not terribly skilled with the fly swatter, but I find that flailing around like an idiot, swatting at the fly 130 times will eventually get the job done. I think sometimes the flies feel sorry for me and fly extra slow so I can get them.), but there are just SWARMS of flies over at the chicken yard.

Last year, I bought those bags that come with fly attractant in them. You break the fly attractant open inside the bag, fill the bag with water and hang them, and the flies will be attracted to the, uh, attractant and fly into the bag where they buzz around, get too tired to fly any more, and then drown. I never used them last year, but this year I got annoyed by the huge number of flies so Fred and I got a couple of them out and put one in each chicken coop. They attracted plenty of flies, but a lot of the flies that were attracted didn’t go into the bag, just swarmed around them. Fred finally got annoyed with the bags (and the attractant, which smells like rotting garbage, and the chicken yard smells bad enough as it is thank you, especially when it’s hot and humid out) and took them out of the coop. One of them he tossed on the ground by the fence; the other, he hung from the fence.

Ever since he did that, a couple of chickens started hanging out by the bags, which were always covered in flies, catching and eating flies. At least they’re getting plenty of protein, I suppose. The fly population hasn’t died down any, unfortunately.

I het flies.

Sunday, I went and got groceries and then swung by Wal-Mart, then got home and puttered around the house. I decided to clear out the freezer – I froze a LOT of summer squash last year, and this year’s bounty has started coming in, so I needed to make room. Also, I froze a LOT of okra last year, and this year MY GODDAMN HUSBAND planted TWO rows of the stuff. I like okra, but we do NOT eat enough okra to make it necessary to plant twice as many this year, especially considering how much we have left over from last year.

Anyway, I pulled out the majority of last year’s leftovers, threw half of it in a big pot, and boiled it for a few hours for the pigs. They’ll eat summer squash and okra, but they prefer it cooked. I mean, they’ll EAT the raw stuff, eventually, but it’s grudging and they act like they’re doing us favors.

Spoiled bastards.

I did laundry, I hung out with the kittens, I cleared the pile of crap off my dresser. Just puttered around the house, like I said. I played a LOT of Scrabble on Facebook, and I even managed to get one or two big-point words. That, my friends, is a red-letter day.

Now I think I’m going to take myself to the movies. I’ve been wanting to see Sex and the City, so I’m gonna. I have a few errands to run over in the direction of Huntsville, so I’m going to run them, then go sit in the nice cool theater, eat some popcorn, and make fun of Carrie Bradshaw’s ugly-ass clothes.

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New kitten movie! This one is mostly River and Inara (mostly River, really).

Or download it here in mpg format.


“Bleh.”

More kitten pics over at Flickr.

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A moment in the rough, rough, ROUGH life of Master Joseph Robert And3rson.

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Previously
2007: No entry.
2006: Anatomy of a Snooze
2005: This is the story of how my husband is a fucker.
2004: As you can imagine, I’m in a REALLY good mood.
2003: After much persuasion, he confessed that he’d seen the movie ratings poster on the wall and thought there was going to be a movie about the ratings system.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: When I think about the incredibly stupid things I did as a teen, it makes me cringe.