Toilet Monsters and Being a Dork

  • It's official. Sammy, the Hairless Boston Baked Beagle is no longer hairless. He has a full, brindle coat. He is also full of piss and vinegar and wants to play for about an hour every night, until he collapses on the floor, on his back, insisting his belly be rubbed. Both Yoda and the demon kitty are very confused and a little annoyed that the formerly hairless couch lump now pesters the hell out of them, slapping them on the head and barking like a sea lion inches from their faces.
  • Ma fell again yesterday. No one bothered to tell me until after the ambulance left, having been called to help her out of the floor. I was a little ticked.. not that she fell, but that I was left out of the loop. In honor of Frog Pond Holler tradition, there was a steady stream of well meaning townsfolk banging on the front door like the mountain- was on fire stopping by to get the scoop so they could run down to the Grab N' Go to spread gossip check on her. Neither myself nor my house were in any kind of shape to receive guests. Ma's bruised up a little but we're pretty sure nothing's broken. An X-ray would be a good idea, but she doesn't want any part of it.
  • Do we really need to be setting off blasts on the moon to look for ice? Why do we constantly have to be messin' with chit?
  • I appreciate all ya'll's advice on my weed growing experiment garden area. I looked into renting a tiller, but the closest place is in Big City and they won't lease equipment this far out. I've decided to buy a second heavy duty extention cord, run it out Ma's bedroom window and use my electric weedeater to whack the wilderness down. Then, after everything starts dying off, I'll get an aerobic workout by hoeing the hell out of it, a little bit at a time, until the ground freezes. Maybe I'll have it done by the time next spring rolls around and I can look for arrowheads and pottery shards while I do it. That's right, I'm a dork. Deal with it. (Oh and I'm gonna see if I can get some of those berries for ya TNDaisy, if the birds haven't gotten them all. I've got that stuff growing all over the place. )
  • Last night I caught part of the "House" episode where he diagnoses a father and daughter with FMF, which was kinda cool, sorta, since I've been in the throws of an attack for the past few days. And ya know, not to be gross but, for as often as I get the belly issues, why am I not as thin as a rail? Anyone else would be, but no.. not me.. I gotta do the fat girl waddle up and down the hall at work, running to the potty.
  • Speaking of the potty, as some of you may know, here at the Asylum the female office staff all share a one seater, centrally located in a glorified closet. Recently, something has gone awry with the plumbing and every time you flush le twalett, it emits a low growl which slowly grows to a primal scream, screaching loudly, sending all the woodland critters in the surrounding forest scampering away, fearing for their lives. Yes, it's that loud. We've nicknamed this noise as the terlit monster and have decided that the GM has it rigged up to keep track of how many times we use the facilities.
TGIF ya'll. This week is almost licked. I need to go look busy now, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!


kenju said...

I hope your mom will be more careful and let you know when she falls, so you don't have to hear it from Lord-knows-who.

The 'terlit' has air in the pipes, I think.

BetteJo said...

Oh God. A falling mom. My nightmare. Sounds like she's okay though, relatively speaking. Glad about that!