Wow, what a week it's been! We've had snakes in the office, table dancing in Hooter's gear and showing up to work dressed like MC Hammer. In between there I've done countless loads of laundry, mainly sheets and bed pads. Ma was having some.. issues, but it's better now. I've also managed to kill another vase of lucky bamboo and two corn plants.
On a personal level, Ma and I have also gotten ourselves through the anniversary of my grandmother's death and my aunt Gail's birthday, who passed away in January.
It's been one for the record books.
Scouring the news lately, it seems that the whole world has gone collectively insane. People cutting babies out of their mamas, taking girls hostage at a high school and another school shooting today. Anna Nicole gave birth and lost a son then got married, but not really and Avril Lavigne is hocking loogies on photographers. Locally, a man barged in to a safe house for battered women and shot his wife then fled, they're still looking for him and DSS returned an abused child to his parents just days before he died at their hands.
It's enough to make you want to start popping Prozac.
Although the past couple of weeks haven't exactly been smooth sailing, we've gotten through it. It's difficult sometimes to find something to smile about when the shit is hitting the fan with brute force, but I still managed to muster the energy to giggle, smile and snort over Craig Ferguson every weekday morning. In the past week there's been butt wiggling, moon walking and enough sexual innuendo to make a hoochie mama blush. He's had some great interviews this week as well. Throughout the week there was Lauren Graham with discussion of serial killers melting bodies instead of the traditional chopping of body parts (funnier than it sounds, trust me), Forest Whitaker (love him) and an interview with Julie Waters, who I had no prior knowledge of but instantly adored (steam your vegetables, don't try to herd them.) Last night's interview with Billy Connolly was the most snort inspiring of them all.
Earlier in the week he mentioned Typhoid Mary during one of his monologues, giving me a bad case of the warm fuzzies. For reasons which shall become obvious, the fuzzies emerge whenever he says things like "Merry Christmas", "Typhoid Mary," "Robin Hood and his Merry Men" or makes reference to "Maryland."
Yes, I am fully aware that the sad state of my life becomes evident with the above statement.
I'm looking forward to tonight's interview with Billy Bob Thornton. He's a little odd, but interesting. And then there'll be the butt wiggling. And maybe some pole dancing. Hopefully not by Billy Bob.
I plan on finishing up the mountain o' laundry which has formed by the washer tonight and go on a vacuuming spree tomorrow. There's another scheduled power outage for Sunday, the last one was cancelled due to storms, so I have to get most of the housework done tomorrow. I have no plans to leave the house for the weekend, other than maybe the dollar store. It's time for a meeting with Miss Clairol. The hag hair situation is getting way out of hand.
So as the locals say, "If you need me, holler." I'll be around here somewhere, probably vacuuming and having impure thoughts about Barney Slash.
Yeah, I'd do him.
Later Taters!
1 comment:
I've never tried herding vegetables. Presumably, it doesn't work very well. *g*
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