Tuesday, March 31

Oh, the Horror

My bra is creaking like an old creepy staircase.
Does this mean it's about to lose structural integrity and everything is about to burst forth?
Because let me tell you, the ample proportions of my youth have given way to epic proportions.  Someone could get hurt if this thing gives.  sigh.
Going to Tahoe with the Hot New Wife and her friends in May.  No way I'm dropping fifty pounds in a month.  Just gonna have to jiggle my way through.  I realize I'm whining, but I frigging hate to dance.  I doubt I'm talking them into skiing or board games.  It's drinking and dancing.  shiiiiit.
Good thing I like her.  Her friends are also very gracious in their bafflement. 
I am equally baffled.  Even when I was in my twenties, I didn't dance.  I drank, but it was more of a kick-back chillin' with friends kinda thing.  These girls drink with a purpose.
I'm so old, and happy to be so.
We took the kids to the zoo and then to old town Sac, and they had a good time, them we went to Makuni's for sushi downtown on a Friday night. 
We all agreed it was very CSI Miami, and the Honey and I were waiting for a blonde to come flying over the upstairs balcony.
The O's thought it was very glamorous.
Photos after the camera recharges!

Wednesday, March 18

Please Pass the Reynolds Wrap.


Sitting in my silent house (okay, silent except for The Honey's snoring), my answering maching keeps giving a little electronic shush-shhhush noise, as if it were wind in the wiring.

At this hour, I must admit that it's creeping me the hell out, and I begin to sympathise with people sportin' tinfoil hats. Or poor, overbaked Plasticman from Redding.


On a separate note?

Class act, there, Mister former President.

Asked to comment on Obama's handling of the economic crisis, Dubya said "He deserves my silence" and said that in times like these we should support each other, not attack each other. Which I take as a jab at yappping Mr. Cheney.

Any jab at Cheney is a jab for the good guys--So was not pardoning Libby. It has to suck to get booed at speaking engagements. Still a failure as leader of the free world, but I feel for him.

Okay, the answering machine just did it again. I think I need an exorcist.

Good night, all. (all 2 of you)

Friday, March 13

Chicken or the Egg?

So Big O stayed at his father's last night. 
The Ex is infamous for waking up late and dropping Big O off still needing a shower, so I called his cell this morning...no answer.
But my phone rang, and it was the Ex's #.  Whew!  I didn't bother with a greeting (because I, too, am eternally running late in the mornings),
"Hey, just making sure you guys are up and running, and please make sure he gets a shower before you come over."
A man's voice replied,
"I made sure he got up, and he's in the shower now."
"Okay, Big O, I love you, see you soon."

Thursday, March 5

And in local news...

The crazy local happenings at the legal epicenter of our fine (okay downtrodden) county? That whole family is batshit crazy and ruuuuude. Soon as I heard the name, I thought, oh, well it WOULD be one of them.
Yes, I realize that I am going to burn in hell for my thoughts.


Speaking of hell, what in the hell was ABC thinking, cancelling Life on Mars?

WAAAAHHHHHH. Every.single.show.I.like.

I am the goddess of death for great TV shows. I am the Gorgon. As soon as I turn my gaze upon it, it's as good as dead.