Show her this old clip from The Amanda Show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWciGhNUftI
My kids and I used to have the most fun recreating the Hillbilly Moment skits…matter of fact, we used to get a lot of good times out of that show.
I wish I were a Glowworm
A Glowworm’s never glum.
For how can you be grumpy
When the sun shines out your bum?
Waking up to ‘Fire and Rain’ on a rainy Wednesday doesn’t hold out much hope for the day. And yet, it seems to beat the alternative.
I need a smaller thermos or a job where the employee get coffee. I’d prefer the latter.
My youngest is in 3rd grade; it seems way too soon.
To steal a thought from “The Sheltering Sky”, today is a coffee and SDMB morning. They seem bountiful & with no end in sight. But how many coffee and friends moments left are there in anyone’s life? Ten thousand? One thousand? One Hundred?
How many mornings do any of us really have left where we’ll see this familiar blue-and-white format, taste our coffee, massage our minds, and prepare for the day ahead…?
Well, I was in a fairly good mood…
I just wrote in my art history notes a phrase I have never even thought before: ‘hand painted vagina plates’. It was hard to stop myself from giggling after I realized how absurd it sounded.
The young lady who works at my local bicycle store looks like Denise Richards with long legs. Yowsers.
Let me help cheer you up. Knock knock…
Last Saturday I was steering a 40’ yacht. That was freakin’ awesome.
And then we got chowder.
I’m nauseated by the price of Liberty’s Tana lawn
I’m depressed by the amount of fabric I already own
I wonder when my daughter will let go of the furniture and walk…
I wonder if a thunderstorm will catch us when we go out today
I wonder where we should go today
I wonder if there’s any point in trying to stop her from throwing food
I wonder if she’s turning into a picky eater
I wonder if I expect too much from her
I wonder if I don’t give her enough attention
I wonder if she’s cold
Are these dry, crusty eyes of mine allergies or blepharitis?
When will I lose some weight?
When will she wake up from her nap?
Will she sleep long enough and wake up happy, or not enough and wake up tantruming?
I need to stop buying clothes for her for a while.
I’m for once glad that I’m not really well built. Because I just got a hat to shield my face from the sun’s rays, and I take really long walks on the weekend. When walking in florida you build up a sweat except in the middle of winter and so I have my shirt off the majority of the time. And I noticed that my hat has enough of a bend that it could be mistaken for a cowboy hat from pretty much any distance. Cowboy hat + buff guy + shirtless = catcalls (plus from cars where you can’t see if the girls are hot.) I will get slightly fewer catcalls when you remove the second part of the equation.
Addendum: goddamn postman rang the goddamn doorbell and woke her up. A tantrum it is.
I’m almost 32 years old and there’s a damn zit growing on my right cheek.
I upgraded from ChapStik to non-petroleum lip balms made of nice things like olive oil and beeswax. Still keep Chastik in my car because I’ve found it makes a dandy cuticle moisturizer.
Most of my co-workers went out for wings today. I would have gone along this time* but it’s the Other Shoe’s day off and we were talking about meeting up at Raising Cane’s. Apparently, I was destined by the gods to eat fried chicken for lunch today.
- I’m afraid I’m neither as sociable or as financially comfortable as them, so I skip the group lunches 99% of the time.
'Oo ees eet?
Did you get a special package or something? Our postman never rings the doorbell, and our mailbox is on the side of our house right next to it. 
Sorry about the wailing baby, though.
We just re-shuffled where we sit (Grandboss was apparently bored or something) and my new spot faces a window. Which opens out onto the building’s corridor. So the blinds are always kept closed. So I have a non-window. Pffft. Also all my desk crap (snacks, extra Post-Its, more snacks, etc.) are still all in the canvas grocery bags I used to pack and move them and I feel like a hoarder or something. So. Much. Crap.
I used to know a kid who’d tell it like this:
Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Lamp!
Lamp who?
Lamp… table… poopy!
It’s me, Dave. I’ve got the stuff.
Dave’s not here, man.
Gout?
(Reminds me, I need to get my allopurinol script refilled…)
People are mad at me because TPTB have decided to change a good thing that was to be effective Monday of next week into a not so good thing effective two weeks later and I had to tell them about it all.
I also hate my irk (that’s work) phone cause when I answer it there are mad people on the other end.
I hope TPTB get painful papercuts and are in agony for days.
I just ate the rest of the chocolate covered raisins. This makes me sad.
I have two legs
From me hips to the ground
And when I moves 'em
They walks around
And when I lifts 'em
They climbs the stairs
And when I shaves 'em
They ain’t got hairs.