What kind of asshole doesn’t tell you about their fetching new website? It’s not like she’s afraid of being self-promotional. God, I think maybe she’s blog cheating on me. That’s the only explanation. I mean, I don’t really understand why that would account for her not telling me, nor do I really understand what “blog cheating” would be, but sometimes the least plausible explanation is the obvious one. In this case it’s not, but I’m not ruling it out either.
Last night's halftime report
Some shots from last night's Red Eye
Sometimes I like to punctuate things I say with the above expression.
Except for when I’m clearly nauseated (I have no recollection of what was happening at this point, by the way)
That’s me in the back left, shortly before Greg noticed that was me in the back left.
Does anyone else
ever suspect those Snapple “real facts” are total bullshit?
To wit: real fact #124 “Seals sleep only one and a half minutes at a time.”
Really? I once napped with a seal and excuse me, but I think I would have noticed if he was up every 90 seconds.
Thus far
I have not taken advantage of the extra hour of daylight to make hay or rotate my crops. Damnit!
I write like a dude
According to this website at least. This doesn’t surprise me too much I suppose, but the weird thing is that when I pasted stuff that I was fairly sure would be “male” (a writing sample from Red Eye with loads of one-liners) it came out female, and when I put in stuff that I thought would be more female (some stuff from this blog, a chunk of my Thomas Kinkade article) it tested male. Who am I?
I'm home
Yay!
remainder shots
Like when I tell people the fact that I sometimes have to explain jokes means they’re funny, the fact that I am looking down to see what I’m doing means I rock.
Oh wait!
Looks like we’re boarding again. Hooray!
Still at the airport
This trip is like a kidney stone that I can’t pass. You know, but not that bad, because actually it was good. I just mean that the weird feelings I was looking forward to flying away from are bearing down because I’m stuck in an airport pickling in them. Sorry for all the mixed metaphors. And the general crappy writing. I’ll chin up shortly, I’m sure. Well, tomorrow at least. Hopefully.
On the upside, there are a couple little birds in here somehow hopping around on the carpet. I jumped a couple times thinking they were mice, but now that I’m past that, I think they’re cute.
I may cry a little anyway though, because the overriding feeling I’m experiencing right now is one of mournfulness.
Update: a plum just rolled across the floor.