You, sir, are not helping…
And that’s the thing- he is a goody-two shoes. No interest in smoking, drinking, any reckless behavior.
But now he can if he wants to! shudders. How do we survive this independence???
Permission Slip, Freudian Slip, regular (underwear type) Slip – whatever… 
Re: Bacon - I believe it is proof of Jews’ goodness towards all mankind and complete mastery of reverse psychology - what better way to convince people to eat this Earthly form of Ambrosia if not by gesticulating wildly and declaring “Don’t eat this stuff!!” 
(Hey, worked for God with the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge… :dubious:**)
Wait, I was supposed to be helping?
Oh…
Dunno about you. My hair is distinctly… less red… than it was 20 years ago.
If it weren’t for those meddling kids…
(Nah, getting to be almost 50 couldn’t have anything to do with that… :eek: Right?)
Soapy no matter how hard it is for you to deal with the Soapkid growing up and getting independent console yourself knowing he is not me, remember the MMP from a couple of weeks ago? 
Jim
Soapy, Call the local navy recruiter, tell him, the LittleSoapChip is only interested in joining if he get’s Tel Aviv as a port of call. 
Hey, if he gets to T-A he’ll be way too busy with all the pretty girls to get around to mine…
But he better be carefulnot to cross some of them… :eek:
Twenty freekin’ minutes late!!! :mad: No explanation, just a tossed-off “apology” of sorts. I don’t think my tech was with another patient because no one exited while I was waiting. I seem to recall they called me late last time. I may start shopping for another dentist… or maybe just change my appt to another hygienist.
I’m at work, I just finished a burger, and I’m about to dive into work. Rah.
No, We aren’t supposed to eat this stuff. Y’all eat whatever the heck you would like.
The massage was awesome. She was worried a second when she came in because she didn’t think there was room to set up the table (stupid me, I thought she would do it on the bed or something…). But! Everything in my dining room folds up, so a few minutes later I was just melt…
And then this morning I fell asleep after my alarm went off and had weird dreams. I was only five minutes late, so it’s okay, but I didn’t have time to make a lunch.
Hey, guys! (Work has been insanely busy, so I haven’t been on here as much as I’d like.)
I had myself a moment of OMGWTFBBQ?! last night. I worked extremely late, because we have just as many computer builds as before, but on top of that, we’re also ironing out all the problems from moving entire departments to different floors, prepping for the next move, AND two of our techs have been out - one sick, the other “trapped” in Vail.
I got home close to 10. First thing I notice - the kitties are suspiciously frolicky and happy. And LOUD. My first stop is the bathroom, where I see they’ve eaten all their food for the day, every last crumb. Odd. Hmm. So, I fill up the dry food and open another can.
Then I go into my kitchen, which is a disaster, to take my evening meds so I can go to sleep. Because I’ve been working such long hours and getting home mostly brain dead, I have not kept up with the chaos of life. The dishwasher needs to be emptied, the dirty dishes need to be washed, and I need to throw out the leftover pizza from Saturday ni-
There’s a bite mark on one of the leftover slices. A bite mark that I know I didn’t put there. A bite mark I know wasn’t there when I left that morning.
**Someone has been in my place. *Someone has been in my place and played with my kitties. Someone has been in my place, played with my kitties, and taken a bite of my 3.5 day old pizza.
OMGWTFBBQ!!!***
Maintenance? There’s nothing to maintain, and besides, they’re required to leave a form saying what they did.
Neighbor? No, I haven’t given any of my neighbors a key. I only know the one guy, and I don’t trust him.
Crazy person? Well, if there were a crazy person in my apartment, food poisoning from my 3.5 day old pizza would probably have taken him out by now. Or he would have taken me out by now. Or he’s gone, and he locked his door on the way out.
Only one person has a key to my place other than me: phoukabro minor.
This becomes much more plausible.
I take out my phone and see an old message from him.
“Bought birthday cards for dad. Left one on your calendar board.”
>sigh<
Phoukabro was not harmed by the old pizza. He does seem to think it’s my super secret spy trick to determine if anyone’s been inside my place. Even better than sticking a hair across the doorframe. I am not telling him otherwise.
Kanga, at least it wasn’t some snotnosed prepubescent blond squatter eating your oatmeal and sleeping in your bed.
This is true, and there’s no way she would have played with my cats.
I’m about to head on out to McGill for a concert tonight. There was a massive flood there a few days ago, so I’m not sure how things will be around there. Should I bring a canoe?
Thanks for the laugh, phoukaroo!
Just got back from a long walk. It was perfect weather, in the 60s and slightly windy.
Time to go home. Very busy for a 4-hour day…
I was going to suggest perhaps the kittehs ate the pizza, but I supposed that would have resulted in a far bugger mess than the one you discovered. You’d think phoukabrominor would have taken the time to clean up a little. I mean, sheesh! :dubious: :smack:
Got my Federal tax return filed, and the e-file did better for me on the refund than I’d have done with the usual 1040EZ (it knew about a credit I didn’t). State tax refund was direct-deposited yesterday (filed on the 23rd). Debt is getting paid off, which is good for some peace of mind, especially with DH five months from layoff. 
Hugs, cherry chocolate cake, sympathy, echinacea, tissues, applause, etc. to all as needed or wanted.
I know it’s such a small thing
and it shouldn’t be an irritating thing
and it shouldn’t make me feel all prickly and want to bang my head on the wall
but why oh why
does my son feel the need to tell every little tiny detail about the computer game he is playing?
I feel so selfish, I feel so rude
it makes him so happy
and it’s nice that he wants to talk to me
but it is like Chinese water torture to listen to it
He tells me the new characters name, describes his costume, describes his power, describes his defense, (all the while mimicking the characters expressions and movements) tells me how he feels about the new character, what all the other players reactions to new character, how the character can be improved and what character will be created next.
and I have to pay attention.
He caught onto my glazed over eyes and vacant smile and occasional nods.
Now he will ask me trick questions to make sure I am paying attention.
If I so much as glance at the TV he shifts his body to block my view.
He is determined that I will share in his joy.
Forget loud music, forget pink underwear, forget prison loaf,
you really really want to punish someone
park them next to my son and ask him to tell them all about Smite.
I survived *Telly Tubbies, Pokemon, Digimon, World of Warcraft, and MineCraft
*. I survived *Magic School Bus. * I even survived Bambi. I knew every line of dialogue from that movie.
I think* Smite* just might be the one that finally does me in.
I need some chocolate.
That looks like free form verse. And I can totally relate to it!
This sounds like my first date with Dave. 
He was going on about his D&D characters and I was trying my best to pay attention, but it wasn’t easy. I think that fact that I thought he was so stinkin’ cute helped, though.