You know that game, "Six degrees of Kevin Bacon" which is based on the movie, "Six Degrees of Separation" which is how everyone is somehow connected by six degrees to everyone else? Got it? Ok, good.
Well, Thing 2 and I recently realized that many of our conversations seem to fit this pattern. Conversations that usually take place when we're driving somewhere because when we aren't driving somewhere, she is holed up in her cave of a room and therefore conversations don't take place.
We will start talking about something, which will lead to something else which will lead to something else which will lead to something else and so on and so on and scooby dooby dooby.
The other day, a simple question by Thing 2 about the Berlin Wall led to a discussion about Communism which led to the Russian Revolution which led to the Romanovs which led to Queen Victoria which led to a history of the Kings and Queens of England from the Tudors to the current Queen Elizabeth II which led to the Protestant Reformation.
So, starting with the Berlin Wall = Communism (1) = Russian Revolution (2) = Romanovs (3) = Queen Victoria (4) = Kings & Queens of England from Henry VII to Queen Elizabeth II (5) = Protestant Reformation (6). Therefore, the Protestant Reformation is connected to the Berlin Wall by six degrees.
TheManTheMyth was a witness to this conversation and he just sat there with a dumbfounded look on his face.
One time, Thing 2 and I were on our way to a high school hockey game and a commercial for the Carl's Jr. Six Dollar Burger came on the radio and before we knew it, we were knee deep in a discussion about wine. Which is rather amusing considering I don't drink wine nor do I even LIKE wine but when you read as much as I do and watch "Jeopardy" as much as I do, you're bound to pick up on a few things to keep a conversation going. And this conversation lasted almost the entire 45 minute drive.
I bet if I tried, I really could find a connection to Kevin Bacon in six degrees. Because it's simple when you think about it. Just like the Berlin Wall being connected to the Protestant Reformation.
And yes, sometimes I do have too much time on my hands.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Right Pair
I have sensitive eyes. No, I don't mean that I have sissy eyes, girly man eyes, I mean that they're kind of light-sensitive. And no, I don't mean that they can take some teasing but will cry when the teasing gets out of hand. Oh, never mind!
Anyway, I wear sunglasses any time I go outside during daylight hours, even if the sun isn't out and it's raining or foggy or whatever. I don't wear sunglasses in gloomy weather to show how cool I am, I wear them because even the tiniest bit of glare will bother me.
I'm real good at not losing my sunglasses. I don't know how many times TheManTheMyth will ask, "Have you seen my sunglasses?" because he can't keep track of them. I've only lost one pair in all my years and that was because they flew off when I was in a terrifying boating accident at the Colorado River about 20 years ago. So technically, I didn't LOSE them because I know exactly where they were, which was the bottom of the river.
I'm real picky about my sunglasses. I don't care if they're $5 swap meet "Designer Imposter Knockoffs" or $250 Chanel sunglasses. It's all about the lenses. There's nothing worse than buying a pair, going outside and the lenses are all wrong. They're either too light or something in the curve of the lenses makes everything look like I'm looking in a funhouse mirror and I get all woozy and dizzy. How they work inside a department store with fluorescent lighting and how they work outside in natural light tend to be completely different which is why I will buy 5 pair before finding the Right Pair.
Only the pair at the bottom left was The Right Pair. They were Ralph Lauren and I loved them and had them for YEARS until they got too scratched up and I went in search of a suitable replacement. And failed. Over and over. And over.
Then one day, I found The Right Pair. They were the right, uh, I dunno, darkness and the lenses didn't make everything all distorted and they came with a lovely green case and they were also very reasonably priced. And I loved them.
And then I got sloppy. Instead of putting them in their lovely green case in my purse when I took them off, I'd just lay them on the bookcase next to the sofa.
I think I've mentioned that I have a dog that likes to chew things. Well. The other day, I'm laying in bed when Gracie Lou jumps down and goes trotting down the hall. A few minutes later, I hear crunching sounds and the knowledgeable part of me is saying, "That little shit is destroying something" and the lazy part of me is saying, "Don't get your panties in a wad, she's chewing on her bone." TheManTheMyth gets out of bed and Gracie comes running back down the hall, jumps back on the bed and pretty much dives under the covers. She can't act any more guilty than if I had caught her in the act. But do I get up to investigate? Nope.
So TheManTheMyth heads off to work and Guilty Gracie and I catch some more zzzz's. When I get up, I do a quick reconnaissance of the living room, kitchen and my office to make sure there isn't any surprises on the floor and everything looks good. So I tell myself that I was wrong about the destructive sounds I had heard earlier. Another hour goes by and I see the ink pen on the table that is all chewed up and I'm all, "A HA! I KNEW IT!" and I give props to TheManTheMyth for not leaving it on the floor for me to find, the way he usually does when Gracie has left some sort of "gift." But then, I notice what is next to the chewed up pen and a horrified gasp escapes from me and Gracie dives to safety under my bed. Because THIS is what I see:
My beautiful Kate Spade sunglasses. Dead. She actually chewed a HOLE through the lens! I wanted to weep. It took me so long to find The Right Pair and now they were destroyed. Because I left them where Gracie Lou could get her paws on them.
How many times have I lectured the kids for leaving their iPod earphones where she could get them and eat them (2 sets each, I think she has a taste for earwax or something) and how many times do I tell them "Don't leave anything where she can get it!" and who didn't listen to her own advice?
So now, I'm back to wearing my old scratched up Ralph Lauren sunglasses until I can find The Right Pair once again. This could take days, weeks. Maybe even months.
The future is not looking so bright. And I gotta wear shades.
Anyway, I wear sunglasses any time I go outside during daylight hours, even if the sun isn't out and it's raining or foggy or whatever. I don't wear sunglasses in gloomy weather to show how cool I am, I wear them because even the tiniest bit of glare will bother me.
I'm real good at not losing my sunglasses. I don't know how many times TheManTheMyth will ask, "Have you seen my sunglasses?" because he can't keep track of them. I've only lost one pair in all my years and that was because they flew off when I was in a terrifying boating accident at the Colorado River about 20 years ago. So technically, I didn't LOSE them because I know exactly where they were, which was the bottom of the river.
I'm real picky about my sunglasses. I don't care if they're $5 swap meet "Designer Imposter Knockoffs" or $250 Chanel sunglasses. It's all about the lenses. There's nothing worse than buying a pair, going outside and the lenses are all wrong. They're either too light or something in the curve of the lenses makes everything look like I'm looking in a funhouse mirror and I get all woozy and dizzy. How they work inside a department store with fluorescent lighting and how they work outside in natural light tend to be completely different which is why I will buy 5 pair before finding the Right Pair.
Then one day, I found The Right Pair. They were the right, uh, I dunno, darkness and the lenses didn't make everything all distorted and they came with a lovely green case and they were also very reasonably priced. And I loved them.
And then I got sloppy. Instead of putting them in their lovely green case in my purse when I took them off, I'd just lay them on the bookcase next to the sofa.
I think I've mentioned that I have a dog that likes to chew things. Well. The other day, I'm laying in bed when Gracie Lou jumps down and goes trotting down the hall. A few minutes later, I hear crunching sounds and the knowledgeable part of me is saying, "That little shit is destroying something" and the lazy part of me is saying, "Don't get your panties in a wad, she's chewing on her bone." TheManTheMyth gets out of bed and Gracie comes running back down the hall, jumps back on the bed and pretty much dives under the covers. She can't act any more guilty than if I had caught her in the act. But do I get up to investigate? Nope.
So TheManTheMyth heads off to work and Guilty Gracie and I catch some more zzzz's. When I get up, I do a quick reconnaissance of the living room, kitchen and my office to make sure there isn't any surprises on the floor and everything looks good. So I tell myself that I was wrong about the destructive sounds I had heard earlier. Another hour goes by and I see the ink pen on the table that is all chewed up and I'm all, "A HA! I KNEW IT!" and I give props to TheManTheMyth for not leaving it on the floor for me to find, the way he usually does when Gracie has left some sort of "gift." But then, I notice what is next to the chewed up pen and a horrified gasp escapes from me and Gracie dives to safety under my bed. Because THIS is what I see:
How many times have I lectured the kids for leaving their iPod earphones where she could get them and eat them (2 sets each, I think she has a taste for earwax or something) and how many times do I tell them "Don't leave anything where she can get it!" and who didn't listen to her own advice?
So now, I'm back to wearing my old scratched up Ralph Lauren sunglasses until I can find The Right Pair once again. This could take days, weeks. Maybe even months.
The future is not looking so bright. And I gotta wear shades.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Five Plus One
Yesterday, June over at Bye Bye Pie asked us, her faithful and oft-times Huh-larious followers to list our Top 5 celebrities that we'd like to Do. As in sexually. As in, "Who would you like to be a slutty whore with?" and I'm all, I'm in!
So here's my list o' fantasy boink partners. It's all a fantasy because the odds of me ever hooking up with anyone on my list is slim to none although I've actually met two of the 5 but a girl can dream.
So. Without further ado, here's MY 5.
Jason Statham. The dude from the "Transporter" movies and numerous Guy Ritchie films. Hot and a half. And then some. You should see him without a shirt. Suh-wooooon!
If you did not read the name on the photo, this is George Parros. He's the enforcer (read: Fighter) for the Anaheim Ducks hockey team. HOT! I love me some hockey players. So much so that I'm still banned in Quebec over that silly Patrick Roy stalking incident.*
I actually met George about a year ago. You can read and laugh about that here.
Have I mentioned I have a thing for hockey players? #3 is George's team mate, Teemu Selanne. I got to meet him as well and the man is beautiful.
Shaun White. I dunno what it is about him but I think he's sexy as all get out and I bet he'd be a hoot and a half. And he's got great hair.
When everyone else was swooning over Josh Holloway (no relation to Natalee) on LOST, I was a-swooning over Henry Ian Cusick's sexy Scotsman, Desmond Hume. "I'll see you in another life, Brother" still makes me sigh.
And an Honorable Mention goes to:
Brad Paisley. I couldn't tell you a single song he sings because I'm not a country music fan but damn, he's mighty fine looking.
So there ya go. My 5 + 1.
*I'm not really banned from Quebec. Really, I'm not. Honest.
So here's my list o' fantasy boink partners. It's all a fantasy because the odds of me ever hooking up with anyone on my list is slim to none although I've actually met two of the 5 but a girl can dream.
So. Without further ado, here's MY 5.
Jason Statham. The dude from the "Transporter" movies and numerous Guy Ritchie films. Hot and a half. And then some. You should see him without a shirt. Suh-wooooon!
If you did not read the name on the photo, this is George Parros. He's the enforcer (read: Fighter) for the Anaheim Ducks hockey team. HOT! I love me some hockey players. So much so that I'm still banned in Quebec over that silly Patrick Roy stalking incident.*I actually met George about a year ago. You can read and laugh about that here.
Have I mentioned I have a thing for hockey players? #3 is George's team mate, Teemu Selanne. I got to meet him as well and the man is beautiful.
Shaun White. I dunno what it is about him but I think he's sexy as all get out and I bet he'd be a hoot and a half. And he's got great hair.
When everyone else was swooning over Josh Holloway (no relation to Natalee) on LOST, I was a-swooning over Henry Ian Cusick's sexy Scotsman, Desmond Hume. "I'll see you in another life, Brother" still makes me sigh.And an Honorable Mention goes to:
Brad Paisley. I couldn't tell you a single song he sings because I'm not a country music fan but damn, he's mighty fine looking.So there ya go. My 5 + 1.
*I'm not really banned from Quebec. Really, I'm not. Honest.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Babylon and On
I'm still unable to post photos in my blog. I don't know if it's because of my ancient Mac or if it's because Blogger is being a poo head but until I can figure this out, you just get to rely on my sparkling wit and way with words to amuse and entertain yourselves.
*
*
So, last night I was in bed, just drifting off to sleep when my cellphone rang. I usually turn off my phone before I go to bed because the e-mail notification tone will wake me up when it goes off at 2:14am but I forgot to turn the phone off last night which was good (maybe) because when the ringing phone jarred me awake, it was Thing 1's voice on the other end instead of some stranger drunk dialing.
"Mom!" he says, "My truck won't start." Thing 1 had gone out 2 hours earlier to meet up with his girlfriend at the local doughnut shop. I assumed he was in the parking lot of the doughnut shop but no, they had decided to "go parking" at the duck pond about a mile away, those crazy kids. And when it was time to leave, the Red Rocket had become the Dead Rocket. Thank goodness for Auto Club is what I'm saying although I still had to go and retrieve Thing 1 from the park, interrupting my beauty sleep, which is DESPERATELY needed. Kids.
*
*
Last night, before I had my beauty sleep interrupted, I had been watching my hockey team, the Anaheim Ducks beat the crap out of the Dallas Stars and my boyfriend, George Parros (who is HOT) scored his first goal of the season! George doesn't score goals very often because his job is to be The Enforcer so his goal was cause for celebration. I love me some George.
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*
You know, I just love a good celebrity Train Wreck and Charlie Sheen is a-whistling down the tracks at runaway speeds. What a ding dang mess he is. He's the male version of Lindsay Lohan but unlike Lindsay, he's got boatloads of money to a) afford his messes and 2) pay for his "treatments." I love how his publicist is claiming he had an "allergic reaction to medication" while the hooker who was with him is saying, "Blow and lots of it." Charlie Sheen had Hookers and Blow? I'm shocked, SHOCKED I say. Oh. Wait. And can I use any more "quotation marks?"
*
*
One week from today. I am counting down the days until this election is over because I am so effing sick and tired of being bombarded non-stop by campaign ads on TV. Yes, I'm talking to YOU, Meg "$140 MILLION DOLLARS" Whitman. I don't want to vote for either of the candidates for both governor AND senator. "None of the above" is the box I want to check. Although it could be worse, we could have candidates that can't tell the difference between Hispanics and and Asians and wants to outlaw masturbation. I'm starting to associate the Tea Party movement with cuckoo clocks.
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I've noticed something about the women homeowners who appear on all those HGTV real estate shows: they all wear really, really ugly, clunky sandals. That are not just ugly, they're Fugly. What, have they not ever seen or heard of cute strappy sandals? I'm no Fashionista or even a TJ Maxxinista but if you're going to be on TV, wear some stylish footwear, fercryinoutloud!
*
*
The latest electronic issue? My Verizon Webmail is not receiving e-mails. Or if e-mails are delivered, they disappear after about an hour. Luckily, I'm getting my e-mails through my Mac mail but there's a couple of e-mails that have to obtained and opened on my PC laptop and it's kind of hard to do that when they don't show up in my inbox. Or spam folder. Or anywhere I can open them. Sigh.
*
*
You know what commercial just makes me laugh every time I see it? The Geico commercial where we find out just how much wood a woodchuck can chuck, "Hey, you dang woodchucks, quit chuckin' mah wood!"
So there ya go, Wednesday's Babbles. Where I Babble On and On. It's what I do.
*
*
So, last night I was in bed, just drifting off to sleep when my cellphone rang. I usually turn off my phone before I go to bed because the e-mail notification tone will wake me up when it goes off at 2:14am but I forgot to turn the phone off last night which was good (maybe) because when the ringing phone jarred me awake, it was Thing 1's voice on the other end instead of some stranger drunk dialing.
"Mom!" he says, "My truck won't start." Thing 1 had gone out 2 hours earlier to meet up with his girlfriend at the local doughnut shop. I assumed he was in the parking lot of the doughnut shop but no, they had decided to "go parking" at the duck pond about a mile away, those crazy kids. And when it was time to leave, the Red Rocket had become the Dead Rocket. Thank goodness for Auto Club is what I'm saying although I still had to go and retrieve Thing 1 from the park, interrupting my beauty sleep, which is DESPERATELY needed. Kids.
*
*
Last night, before I had my beauty sleep interrupted, I had been watching my hockey team, the Anaheim Ducks beat the crap out of the Dallas Stars and my boyfriend, George Parros (who is HOT) scored his first goal of the season! George doesn't score goals very often because his job is to be The Enforcer so his goal was cause for celebration. I love me some George.
*
*
You know, I just love a good celebrity Train Wreck and Charlie Sheen is a-whistling down the tracks at runaway speeds. What a ding dang mess he is. He's the male version of Lindsay Lohan but unlike Lindsay, he's got boatloads of money to a) afford his messes and 2) pay for his "treatments." I love how his publicist is claiming he had an "allergic reaction to medication" while the hooker who was with him is saying, "Blow and lots of it." Charlie Sheen had Hookers and Blow? I'm shocked, SHOCKED I say. Oh. Wait. And can I use any more "quotation marks?"
*
*
One week from today. I am counting down the days until this election is over because I am so effing sick and tired of being bombarded non-stop by campaign ads on TV. Yes, I'm talking to YOU, Meg "$140 MILLION DOLLARS" Whitman. I don't want to vote for either of the candidates for both governor AND senator. "None of the above" is the box I want to check. Although it could be worse, we could have candidates that can't tell the difference between Hispanics and and Asians and wants to outlaw masturbation. I'm starting to associate the Tea Party movement with cuckoo clocks.
*
*
I've noticed something about the women homeowners who appear on all those HGTV real estate shows: they all wear really, really ugly, clunky sandals. That are not just ugly, they're Fugly. What, have they not ever seen or heard of cute strappy sandals? I'm no Fashionista or even a TJ Maxxinista but if you're going to be on TV, wear some stylish footwear, fercryinoutloud!
*
*
The latest electronic issue? My Verizon Webmail is not receiving e-mails. Or if e-mails are delivered, they disappear after about an hour. Luckily, I'm getting my e-mails through my Mac mail but there's a couple of e-mails that have to obtained and opened on my PC laptop and it's kind of hard to do that when they don't show up in my inbox. Or spam folder. Or anywhere I can open them. Sigh.
*
*
You know what commercial just makes me laugh every time I see it? The Geico commercial where we find out just how much wood a woodchuck can chuck, "Hey, you dang woodchucks, quit chuckin' mah wood!"
So there ya go, Wednesday's Babbles. Where I Babble On and On. It's what I do.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Bitchslaps for Jesus
Maybe I'm going to hell in a bucket but this was one of the funniest things I have seen in a long time.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I Don't Get It, Round 3
Here are more things I don't get:
1. People who pile stuffed animals in the back windows of their cars.
2. How a political party can manage to find so many nut jobs as their candidates.
3. Sunroofs in cars.
4. The idea to mix fish juice with tomato juice.
5. Mixing fish juice with tomato juice and adding it to beer.
1. People who pile stuffed animals in the back windows of their cars.
2. How a political party can manage to find so many nut jobs as their candidates.
3. Sunroofs in cars.
4. The idea to mix fish juice with tomato juice.
5. Mixing fish juice with tomato juice and adding it to beer.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Someone has pissed off the Electronic Gods and that Someone Seems to be Me
Once again, the technology slash electronic Gods are having buttloads of fun at my expense, both mentally and monetarily.
My stupid Motorola Droid phone is still refusing to deliver e-mails in a timely manner. Oh, and the new thing is, the little notification chime will sound, it'll say I have 1 new e-mail and when I open the e-mail app, there's 27 e-mails waiting. 12 of which I had already deleted 5 times in the last week. Now, I may be mathematically challenged but I do know that 27 minus 12 does not equal 1. Obviously, someone in Droidville is even more mathematically challenged than I am and that is really saying something, believe you me. Stupid Droid. I hate this phone.
And then last week, my ancient iPod Shuffle, the one that resembles a pack of Wrigley's Spearmint Gum, decided it no longer wants to live up to its name, which is Shuffle. It now wants to play the same 10 or 15 songs over and over. Which would be fine if I wanted to hear The Partridge Family's "Bandala" (don't you judge me), Wall of Voodoo's version of "Ring of Fire," Queens of the Stone Age "Millionaire" or Little Walter singing, "My Babe" over and over and sometimes I do but after the 3rd or 4th go-around, I kinda want to hear something else.
The latest technological woe is actually one I've been having all year. My laptop. That I hate and despise because it's not a Mac. I've had more trouble with that stupid Not A Mac laptop. The latest issue is that somehow, someway, my Adobe program that enables me to read PDF documents and lets me convert documents of my own to PDF files has decided to disappear and will not allow me to reinstall the program.
This all started when I went to open a PDF file that I needed and a little pop-up window pops up, which always causes me to wince because it's a crapshoot on whether or not something is about to go Very, Very Wrong, telling me that I need to update my Adobe Reader program to Adobe Reader 9.4 before I can open said PDF file. And that is when things went Very, Very Wrong. Not only was I not able to download and install Adobe Reader 9.4 but I was informed via pop up window that I, my laptop's Administrator, has insufficient privileges to access the file and the installation cannot continue and I need to contact the Administrator pronto.
So, I contact the Administrator, oh wait! That's ME! and I have to inform myself that I'm shit outta luck as far as installing Adobe Reader because of Error 1303, which when I went to Adobe's troubleshooting section of their site, informs me they've never heard of Error 1303 even though that's what it says on that pop-up window fromMotherFucking Hell Windows 7 (same difference).
So. For whatever reason, I can no longer open PDF files which is going to cause serious problems as far as business goes and I cannot convert files to PDF which is going to cause serious problems as far as business goes. And I don't know how to correct the problem, which is causing serious problems as far as my sanity goes. This wouldn't be an issue if I had a new iMac because nothing EVER goes wrong with a Mac. But I don't have the $$$$ for a new Mac at this time unless I sell a kidney or one of my offspring and lately, the sale of one or both of my offspring is looking a little more preferable than the sale of the kidney because I like to pee and my kids are pissing me off.
And Blogger is STILL not allowing me to upload/download/sideload photos in my blog. When I try, I get an "Add images" box that looks a helluva lot different than it use to and when I choose an image from my stash of photos in my computer to upload, nothing happens. Oh it SAYS it's uploaded but there's nothing there. "Add images" just wants to fuck with me. And is doing a damn fine job of it. Bastard.
In other news, that effing bitch who mowed down my kid and fled the scene has been charged with criminal charges by the City of Long Beach. People vs. Camille Wickersham and guess what? She's on Facebook. Feel free to send her any nasty message you want. Like, "Hey, hit any kids in crosswalks lately?" or "I"m looking for a bike. You got any stuck under your car I can have?" You have my blessing. Camille Wickersham. Get her!
My stupid Motorola Droid phone is still refusing to deliver e-mails in a timely manner. Oh, and the new thing is, the little notification chime will sound, it'll say I have 1 new e-mail and when I open the e-mail app, there's 27 e-mails waiting. 12 of which I had already deleted 5 times in the last week. Now, I may be mathematically challenged but I do know that 27 minus 12 does not equal 1. Obviously, someone in Droidville is even more mathematically challenged than I am and that is really saying something, believe you me. Stupid Droid. I hate this phone.
And then last week, my ancient iPod Shuffle, the one that resembles a pack of Wrigley's Spearmint Gum, decided it no longer wants to live up to its name, which is Shuffle. It now wants to play the same 10 or 15 songs over and over. Which would be fine if I wanted to hear The Partridge Family's "Bandala" (don't you judge me), Wall of Voodoo's version of "Ring of Fire," Queens of the Stone Age "Millionaire" or Little Walter singing, "My Babe" over and over and sometimes I do but after the 3rd or 4th go-around, I kinda want to hear something else.
The latest technological woe is actually one I've been having all year. My laptop. That I hate and despise because it's not a Mac. I've had more trouble with that stupid Not A Mac laptop. The latest issue is that somehow, someway, my Adobe program that enables me to read PDF documents and lets me convert documents of my own to PDF files has decided to disappear and will not allow me to reinstall the program.
This all started when I went to open a PDF file that I needed and a little pop-up window pops up, which always causes me to wince because it's a crapshoot on whether or not something is about to go Very, Very Wrong, telling me that I need to update my Adobe Reader program to Adobe Reader 9.4 before I can open said PDF file. And that is when things went Very, Very Wrong. Not only was I not able to download and install Adobe Reader 9.4 but I was informed via pop up window that I, my laptop's Administrator, has insufficient privileges to access the file and the installation cannot continue and I need to contact the Administrator pronto.
So, I contact the Administrator, oh wait! That's ME! and I have to inform myself that I'm shit outta luck as far as installing Adobe Reader because of Error 1303, which when I went to Adobe's troubleshooting section of their site, informs me they've never heard of Error 1303 even though that's what it says on that pop-up window from
So. For whatever reason, I can no longer open PDF files which is going to cause serious problems as far as business goes and I cannot convert files to PDF which is going to cause serious problems as far as business goes. And I don't know how to correct the problem, which is causing serious problems as far as my sanity goes. This wouldn't be an issue if I had a new iMac because nothing EVER goes wrong with a Mac. But I don't have the $$$$ for a new Mac at this time unless I sell a kidney or one of my offspring and lately, the sale of one or both of my offspring is looking a little more preferable than the sale of the kidney because I like to pee and my kids are pissing me off.
And Blogger is STILL not allowing me to upload/download/sideload photos in my blog. When I try, I get an "Add images" box that looks a helluva lot different than it use to and when I choose an image from my stash of photos in my computer to upload, nothing happens. Oh it SAYS it's uploaded but there's nothing there. "Add images" just wants to fuck with me. And is doing a damn fine job of it. Bastard.
In other news, that effing bitch who mowed down my kid and fled the scene has been charged with criminal charges by the City of Long Beach. People vs. Camille Wickersham and guess what? She's on Facebook. Feel free to send her any nasty message you want. Like, "Hey, hit any kids in crosswalks lately?" or "I"m looking for a bike. You got any stuck under your car I can have?" You have my blessing. Camille Wickersham. Get her!
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