Ugh. I have joined the world of lolcats. Poor Frank was just trying to cool off his hindquarters in the dog bowl when Ariel chased him off. Just in case you want to violate my pets with your captions, I’ve made the image a cheezburger link.
If I start twattering, just f*@%*ing kill me.
What a weekend. What weekend? Waiting for the weekend. Working for the weekend. Fuck it, the weekend’s here. It’s all a blur, the last few days, years, decades really. But it’s Friday now, so no worries. I feel disgusted with myself for the shape I’m in (rounded at the edges), so I must be alive. Fortunately, I am not at the point where I feel nervous around harpoons.
We have a new horse, of course, to go with the new pups. She’s white, or maybe gray. It is hard to tell at this time of year. Being a rescue horse (horse that was rescued, not one that goes out and rescues others), she is underweight, which makes her look kind of funny. Ha-ha.
It’s a swim meet weekend, so I won’t be doing all of the fun stuff I had originally planned: Change the oil on the truck, mulch the shrubbery, fix up the swamp cooler for summer and clean out the sprinkler system. To be honest, I think I’d rather be at the swim meet.
Tragedy has struck our household. In an attempt to brighten up the grasshoppers’ home (Lils had two (grasshoppers, not homes)), Jennie brought home an ornamental cabbage. I suppose that it looks nice, in a way, now that it has killed both of Lil’s grasshoppers. Services will be tomorrow at 9 a.m., PDT.
On a happier note, I’ve finally written a few new poems, essays, and other assorted pieces of garbage, one of which I posted. What else? — Oh yes, we are now the proud parents of a sandfish (scincus scincus). And with that, I am going back to bed.