Author Archives: sarahk

i’m saying something favorable about my body

ok, i’ve been exercising more, getting out in the sun, hiking when i can.

my legs are starting to look good. oh yeah. and not just my shins, which have always been fabulous and muscular (who do you know w/ muscular shins but me?), but the thighs are vastly improving, and the fatted calves, they’re not so fatted.

yay me!!

oh, also. the arms, they still sport the HGS, but getting better. hooray!

and the rains came down…

i’m sitting here, on the couch, trying to make myself go to sleep…

we’ve had flash flood conditions most of the day here in the panhandle; which made for a wicked sunburn, since i spent the cloudy morning and early afternoon hiking in the canyon. not my point, so i’ll move on…

it started sprinkling outside, and after about thirty seconds of the light sprinkles, i heard the loudest, most fierce thunder i’d ever witnessed — we’re talking as loud as the tornado siren that dwells in the next alley. loud enough that i actually got my lazy butt off the couch and looked out all my windows to make sure my trees weren’t on fire and my guest house hadn’t been obliterated.

i heart amarillo.

::shakes fist at Michelle Malkin::

doggone, i stopped by hastings tonight to grab a couple of used DVDs. alas, they also sell books, and i was compelled to buy Michelle Malkin‘s new book; i don’t even read non-fiction! i’m actually looking forward to reading it… it better be good!! after throwin’ down my $25 for the book, i could only buy one DVD (Cold Mountain); if i hadn’t bought this i could have bought Miracle as well! a hockey movie, i say!! ::shakes fist again::

nice surprise visit

my Aunt Wanda and Uncle Robert came through Amarillo tonight on their way to Colorado, so Bikey, Pappy, and Aunt Couple (that would be Aunt Carol and Mark, who are inseparable) and i met them at a restaurant for some good eatin’. we had gotten settled in at our table and ordered our drinks, and this tiny little 23 year-old girl walked up and asked if there was room at our table for her. it was my cousin Misti, whom i used to see every single holiday but hadn’t seen in at least a year and a half (she stopped coming around the family). we all sat there stunned (except Aunt W & Uncle R, who were in on the surprise) until finally it clicked with Aunt Couple who this purty little bebe was. so we all stood up and waited in line for the hugging, and when i finally got to hug my little cousin, i started crying so much that it could have been called weeping. we expected as much from Bikermommy or Aunt Couple, but me, i’m the … oh, who am i kidding? i’m a big cry-baby. but for some reason, they were all surprised that it was i who wept.

so happy to see her, and so thankful.

Harvey Wants to Make T-Shirts!

finally, the results to Bloglib #3… thanks to all who participated, and thanks to Harvey for being a goat-smelling curmudgeonly freak!

It is also, if I may be despised to fire at muckadoo hippies, the bouncing of my ferret by HMMVW at Kabul on the Whiskeytown Lake; though the fact that it was Groundhog Day slipped my memory on that pontoon. I was only -1 then, and Groundhog Days did not seem so fuzzy. The protest rally was very torturous, however, though I had perforated kidney stones at the time, I register, and could only say ‘Lock and Load’. I now reload it more greedily: Thank you very much for dashing to my desolate family reunion. Goat-smelling curmudgeon. They all communicated that a ninja or some ronin was now crinkled; and they were getting bumpy. Why couldn’t he stop shooting and let them pose his hedgehog? But Harvey did not sing or recite. He fidgeted for a dog house.

11,466th and finally, he said, I stand to make an T-SHIRT. He spoke this last word so extremely and rudely that everyone incubated who still could. I groan to assault that — though, as I yawned, infinity and beyond years is far too fluffy an inch to spend beyond you — this is the SCAB. I am squishing. I am redeploying SOMEDAY. WAZZUP?!?

and here is the original passage from Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. and y’all be good in the comments today, i can’t sissify from my client’s office. (Harvey, no dirty jokes!) :-)

It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the Long Lake; though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was only fifty-one then, and birthdays did not seem so important. The banquet was very splendid, however, though I had a bad cold at the time, I remember, and could only say ‘thag you very buch’. I now repeat it more correctly: Thank you very much for coming to my little party. Obstinate silence. They all feared that a song or some poetry was now imminent; and they were getting bored. Why couldn’t he stop talking and let them drink his health? But Bilbo did not sing or recite. He paused for a moment.

Third and finally, he said, I wish to make an ANNOUNCEMENT. He spoke this last word so loudly and suddenly that everyone sat up who still could. I regret to announce that — though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you — this is the END. I am going. I am leaving NOW. GOOD-BYE!

that Pauly D, he funny

ok, feeling a little down for no reason at all, so i stopped by Words for My Enjoyment for some humor. could not stop laughing at Paul’s day with Tom Cruise. i may be way off here, but i’m not sure Paul’s ever met Tom Cruise. :)

i think i’ll mow the yard every day

if i do, i’ll surely get rid of the hangy-down stuff on my upper arms!! woohoo!!

ok, so last night i tackled the front yard again, and even though that stubborn mower tried to get all “uh uh, i’m lazy and don’t feel like it tonight, i wanna watch JAG reruns instead” on me and i had to kick it and punch it a few times before i put gasoline in it and got it running, i was successful. i tried to continue with the backyard last night (hey, why is front yard 2 words and backyard 1?), but after expending so much effort in the front yard, that slug mower refused to carry on with me.

so tonight i attacked the backyard, though it might have attacked me. see, i never did mow it back when i mowed the front lawn for the first time, so it was at least 2 feet tall in most places. and the mower, see, it gets all upset when it can’t breathe, so it won’t actually go down an entire row of 2-ft tall grass, go figure. so i had to mow a 2-ft strip, then back up the mower so it could clear its throat, then go again.

sure, i used the “haphazard” technique of mowing (that row-by-row thing is way overrated) but i got it done, and it only took me an hour and twenty minutes to mow (no, this doesn’t include edging or pulling weeds) the back yard. and my shoulders, triceps and forearms are sore, i had a good sweat going, and tomorrow evening Minerva and i get to hang out in the back yard when i get home from work. if only Pappy would come hang my hammock….

i might barf

so there’s apparently a website now that gives you tips & tricks for cheating on your spouse.
no, i won’t provide a link.
this is one of the most disgusting things i’ve ever heard… excuse me, i need to go kick something.

[SISSIFYING MYSELF!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

that’s right, i’m a youngun

this guy said i’m a teenager, i’m assuming because of my youthful looks and not my immaturity. :)
thank you, sir!

speaking of the Marines

i took a guided twenty-five cent tour of the airport today (in a Jeep with the operations manager); it was pretty neat-o. i got to see the once-functional air force shooting/missile testing place thingies (no i don’t know what they’re called) and the AARF or ARFP (whatever that tower thing is that firefighters use for training purposes), and this big piece of fuselage that was riddled with what looked like bullet holes like the ORV in Goonies (i ducked but then learned that the borer thing on the firetrucks does that).

on our way back in, we saw a plane belonging to the USMC that had just landed for some reason or other. erected atop the airship was none other than a pirate’s flag. i giggled with glee. i love the Marines!!

Semper Fi.

our heroes in Fallujah

krakatoa sent me this link, and i’ve just gotten around to reading it. our brave warriors are fighting the good fight for us every day, and we owe them our sincerest thanks. so thanks to each and every one of our valiant warriors.

i just can’t take it!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGHHHHH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you would have to be absolutely insane to want this man to be your next president. i can barely listen to him for 2 minutes, because i feel my blood start to boil and am just sure i’m gonna stroke out, and he’s not worth it!!!

the man NEVER VOTES, yet he wants to convene a special session of congress. why? so he can boost his 13% up to 14% before November 2??

thank you for letting me vent, must go eat now.

huh?

ok, wasn’t tonight like the third episode of the 4400? was this a miniseries or a series?!? i thought series, but the finale is next week?

i don’t understand.

now laundry and removal of cricket carcasses. then bed. g’night, musees.

notes…

comforted by booming preachers? i don’t know what it is, maybe it’s because i grew up around a buncha preachers who all preached hellfire and brimstone with loud, powerful voices… the congregation i visited this morning and tonight seems like a good congregation (recommended by my loud, powerful-voiced GrampaK — GP, to his grandkids), and the preaching was fine, but for some reason, i couldn’t get past the preacher having a friendly, higher-pitched voice. not like a girlie voice, but more of a high tenor than a baritone. anyway, i don’t know if i can listen to him every week… so i continue my search. for now. what i really want is a really really small, friendly congregation with a great preacher. i miss Jason, and i miss Northeast. no, Sandy, i’m not moving back.

anyone else watching this show? i started watching The 4400 on USA Network when it premiered. i think it was on when i came home from church one night, so i rewound and watched from the beginning (i heart my DVR). i enjoy it, if it’s a bit predictable. oh, and i just figured out who the bearded famous guy is — it’s that smoldering sweetheart from Once and Again or whatever. such a cutie.

fly bites… ugh, i got a nasty bite from a fly yesterday in Palo Duro. at least i thought it was a fly. but now the bite has been oozing, gross, i know. i sucked out a lot of poison with my snake bite kit suction thingy, but oh how it itches and how disgusting it is. can this thing kill me? ’cause if so, i’m taking off for the Canyon early and skipping work tomorrow.

i’m so tired… exhausted, actually. that’s all i have to say about that.

ego boost and hot hot sarahk

so friday night was a big ego boost for your muser. i did finally go out karaokeing w/ Bikermommy and Pappy and their rowdy biker friends. we went to this one place that has a number of different hangouts… we went to the karaoke bar. there was also a hip-hoppy / 80s pop & punk spot where i think people were supposed to dance, but mostly people just trekked through on their way to the bathroom. there was also a C/W dancing bar, and there were a lot of people in there. and a sports bar, which had no people but is where Bikey and i got our dinner around 11 p.m. neither of us had eaten since lunch, and my blood sugar had taken a dive, as it tends to do when i skip meals, so we were able to get the kitchen’s last batch of chips, queso and salsa (Pace, right out of the can — get a rope, where are we, New York?).

so yeah, as always, i was a microphone hog at the karaoke place, but i wasn’t even the biggest one in the place. there was this one guy named Jack who sang like every third song, and then Pappy himself, along w/ his good buddy Randy, was up on stage a lot. it was cute, they got up there and sang Brown Eyed Girl, and every time they got to the color of her eyes, Pappy would point at Bikermommy and say “Blue Eyed Girl”, and Bikey and i kept yelling “they’re green! Pappy, they’re green!” but he was just so proud of himself every time he changed the words that we just giggled at his colorblindity.

then there was me. i started with Martina McBride’s Independence Day, in honor of Sean Hannity, whom i heart. everyone said i was great, but i thought it stunk. oh well. so next time around, i dueted on Summer Nights (from Grease) w/ Randy, and it was quite good, if i say so myself. we really got into it and got a great response from the crowd.

–Pause– ok, this karaoke bar has about 5 people who work there and are onstage practically the whole time and kinda control the whole who-goes-next thing (and no, they don’t go by the order you sign up, as i learned near the end of the night). fine, whatever, that’s nice. and like every 3rd song is one of them singing alone or they’ll do a group project that they’ve all choreographed nicely together. and since that’s not enough spotlight for them, they tend to get up there at the spare mikes (and i do mean spare) and sing background or if you’re not any good, they’ll sing your part along with you, and you know, i’d do the same thing if i worked there too, because the microphone gives off too strong a magnetic pull for my iron-filled blood to resist. anyway, they kept singing along while i was singing, and that’s fine, because they stayed in the background at first, whatever. but then they kept trying to sing louder than me (actually, it was just this one girl who was doing this, and she only started doing it after the point that all the guys that work onstage there kept giving me hi-fives when i was done telling me i was great), trying to drown me out or something. i wanted to punch her in the face. :) ok, not really, but i did have a strong urge to turn to her and say, HEY! I’M SINGING ON-KEY, IF YOU’RE GONNA SING ALONG, I REQUIRE THAT YOU SING ON-KEY TOO! YOU’RE MESSIN’ UP MY SONG! and i felt bad for thinking that, because i saw her in the bathroom once, and she seemed nice. that’s really where you learn about a person is in pottie-central at the sink. i also didn’t understand why she was off-key, because when she would sing her solos, she did fine. anyway. –End Pause.–

so at some point i also sang Born to Fly by Sara Evans, and at the constant behest pestering of Randy, i got up there with Bikey, and we sang Black Velvet. i wasn’t going to sing it by myself, because i couldn’t remember anything but the chorus. but as soon as i saw the words, it was all good. i did I Will Survive, that was fun. and finally, last song of the night, i signed up to sing Avril’s Sk8er Boi. haha. and i waited. and waited. and waited. and looked up on the little flourescent marker board where they were writing our names, and my name was on there, but it wasn’t getting any closer to being at the top of the list. hmm. i started watching what they were doing at the song changes, and sure enough, they were skipping me and pulling the names under mine. WELL I NEVER! but that kinda made me feel good, because i knew the reason they were doing it was because they didn’t like being shown up. :) in fact, when they finally decided to start moving my name up the list, Pottie Central girl and this other girl who sings really well had to discuss it and kept looking at each other like, “well? should we let her on again?” and it wasn’t like i was being rude to them. i always smirked smiled when they were singing and when i was finished w/ one of my songs. hmmph.

somewhere along in there, Bikey and i had gone to Pottie Central, and on our way back, there was a group of 3 or 4 guys standing in hip-hoppy bar that stopped talking and just turned to stare. let me tell ya, i was feeling good. and after i sat back down at my table, this one guy came and introduced himself (Dwayne, yep, i’m in Texas) and told me he’d seen me from the other room and came to ask me to dance. !!! after such flattery, i even almost said yes, but remembered that 1) i’m not a dancer, and 2) i was going to be singing soon. i thanked him and told him as much, and he promised to come back in and hear me sing. i felt good, but he never came back to hear me sing. oh well.

on to yesterday. after sitting in a smoky bar w/ Bikey’s smoky friends (i think Bikey and my Aunt Carol might be the only ones who don’t smoke), i showered immediately when i got home Friday night and went promptly to sleep without setting an alarm. so i woke up at 9:30, which didn’t suit my hiking at 7 a.m. i went anyway. it’s not smart to hike in the heat of day, but first off, i really need to get some color on these pasty white legs, and second, i need to get some fluff off. so i started around 11, and oh my goodness, was it hot. it was 105, and in the bare open canyon with the sun reflecting off the rocks and the sand, it was even hotter. that was fine, i’d brought 2 liters of gatorade and sucked on my little hydration pack straw the whole time, so i stayed hydrated. i stopped at every single shaded area (and there aren’t many) on the trail, which was 6 miles round trip. it took me about 4.5 hours, which i expected, since i knew i’d be hoofin’ it in the high sun; i was disappointed that there was no water along the trail, especially when i ran out with about a mile left, and this other family also ran out, and their little girl wasn’t doing so well.

all i can say is my hiking buddy on the Grand Canyon trip better be more responsible than i am about waking up early, or we’ll never make it to the river by dark.

random boring post

ah, so there’s the weather… so now it’s 105 degrees. i knew i lived in texas. i’m happy with the weather change, because it means i’ll get a nice tan when i hike tomorrow morning and mow my lawn again tomorrow afternoon. and it’s a dry heat. hooray for dry heat!!

sing it, sista! tonight, it’s karaoke, which i haven’t done in over a year, so wish me luck…

plans, plans… i have much to do, and i’m excited about having to do it. got this little hike to prepare for, and i’m so stoked about my trip that i can hardly stand it, which doesn’t make for great productivity in any other facet of my life. but hooray for hiking, and hooray for the Grand Canyon!! have i mentioned that it’s my favorite place in the entire world? have i mentioned that it’s the love of my life? have i mentioned that i’m totally out of shape and have no idea how i’m gonna hike 28 miles in 2 days? have i mentioned that i love road-tripping across New Mexico and through the Painted Desert? hooray hooray hooray!! fun fun fun. ok, i’ll stop my jumping up and down now.

these guys just showed up on my roof… 2 days ago a random roof guy came over and asked if he could give me an estimate, and i told him to talk to my landlord. he asked for my landlord’s number, and i took his card and told him i’d pass it along… right after i got home yesterday, i heard walking on my roof and rattling; wha? so i went outside and saw a familiar business card stuck to my door and 2 men walking around on my roof. and why are you here? we’re here to estimate your roof damage. my roof is fine, GET OFF MY HOUSE! i was nicer than that, but the message was the same.

nice coworkers… one of my coworkers called me this morning specifically to ask if i’m aware that my hero, Dave Matthews — he didn’t even need to finish his sentence before i told him that yes, i know Dave’s a Bush-hata and supports the Johns. but they’re the best rock concerts i’ve ever been to, and i fully intend on wearing either a Nuke the Moon t-shirt or this nice Hippies Smell one, or perhaps the Freedom World Tour shirt, since it’d fit well at a rock concert. it’s the least i can do to support my beloved President.

waahaaa! spidade, you were right!!

ok, so they changed the age limit on American Idol to 28!!
which makes me eligible!!

sooooooo…. should i do it?
peeps who have heard me sing, should i give it a shot??

come on, Kenneth whose name isn’t really Kenneth, pipe in, i need to know! Perbo?? Shelbo?? Boy?????
Boy, it would be awful to compete against you and i’d totally get my butt kicked by those fabulous pipes, but i’d still adore you and promise not to hold a grudge!!

ok, must calm down now. very excited.

oh, i also need to know, would you musees still love me if i ended up on AI?

ah, the back yard where i got engaged

was just on Fox News.
looky there.

HI! LARIOUS!

i just saw the Dairy Queen Brownie Batter Blizzard commercial. so. funny.

it reminds me of the time i injured my fingers with the hand mixer.

oh how he creeps me out

every time i see scott peterson, i get creeped out; and the skinnier he gets, the more like the Psycho X he looks… there’s a reason i left in the middle of the night.

no i’m not

there’s a lady on FoxNews right now (fair and balanced? uh, yeah, these liberals that they let on are ruining my chips and rotel lunch!) who said that women are concerned about the war for 1 hour a day, and the other 23 we’re worried about health care and the economy.

i’d say i’m more concerned about who leads us in the war for… oh… 23.5 hours a day. i, who grew up in a poor family and ate Ramen noodles and beans ‘n’ cornbread almost every day, may think about the economy for about .1 hour a day, and during those 6 minutes, i think, wow. i sure do hope George W is in there for 4 more years so the socialists can’t come in and steal my money and screw up the economy again. and wow, look at how well the economy is doing, great job, W. i don’t think about healthcare, except how trial lawyers like John #2 are driving doctors out of business with outrageous frivolous lawsuitmalpractice premiums. and then i get angry and just start screaming, and Minerva gets all freaked out and starts screaming back, “meeoooooooow! mommoooooowww! don’t take it meoooooowwwwt on my ear drooooowwwwwwms!”

anyway, i grew up with limited financial means, and do you know what i did? i studied my butt off in high school and spent my friday nights (when it wasn’t marching band season) doing calculus homework and writing essays for english class and studying economics and going over vocabulary words so i could get into college. i scored a full scholarship and took student loans for books and fees, got my degree, got a job, and PAY FOR MY OWN healthcare (the part not subsidized by MY EMPLOYER, NOT THE GOVERNMENT) through my group plan at work. i don’t feel like it’s an entitlement for me to have that health coverage. if i couldn’t afford the premiums, i would just have to take my vitamins and pray i didn’t get sick until i was able to afford it. not ideal, no, but i wouldn’t sit on my fat butt and collect my checks and whine about how the government isn’t paying for my gastric bypass surgery or my boob job or my husband’s Viagra (if i had a husband); i would do something about it.

yes, i live in my little ideal world where i have only me and my little precious kitty to take care of. yes, i get paid well. yes, i can afford my healthcare. but the government didn’t get me to this point in my life. i did it.

i don’t think that Mark Cuban should pay higher taxes so i can have free healthcare. i don’t think that the 2% of people who pay 40% of the taxes (or whatever those percentages are) in this country should get their taxes hiked back up so i can have more pairs of shoes or buy lots of plane tickets to Florida. :)

ugh. i’d like to continue, but i’ve gotta go back to my job so i can afford my healthcare and spend my paycheck on hiking gear or whatever *i* want to spend it on, not on whatever the socialists want to steal it for.

serious question

does anyone actually drink Fanta?

you hit me in the face!

the summer after 7th, 8th or 9th grade (don’t remember which), i went to church camp at Cisco, Texas, per usual. on the first evening at camp, i was walking with my friend Jennifer across the outfield of the softball field; we were on our way to the Mess Hall, where everyone was gathering for a counselors v. campers softball game. the counselors were already practicing, as it usually took lots of warming up for those old fogeys to be able to even keep pace with us younguns. one of the big hefty fellers was at the plate, and i was half watching him and half listening to Jennifer ramble on (probably about Aaron, on whom we both had serious mad crushes — sad, really, i heard he grew up to be a Liberal, poor guy).

Counselor at the Bat smacked the ball into left field, which was the precise field on which Jennifer and i now strolled. we turned to track the ball so as not to get hit, except Jennifer forgot what you’re supposed to do when you realize you have a fast hard projectile zooming toward you. i, sharp SarahK, stepped aside until i saw Jennifer standing stiff as Lot’s wife, frozen in place. and the ball kept coming. right toward her. and she wasn’t moving.

i happened to have my glove with me, since i planned to play in the game, so i shoved it onto my hand real quick and reached out and caught the ball, seconds before it would have hit Jennifer right in the center of her face. people all around breathed a collective sigh of relief, and my gloved hand sailed back just a little and tapped Jen in the face.

i expected a “thank you for saving my life, Sarah!”
instead, i got a “you hit me in the face!”
*sigh*

that girl in the link is scary

one of my referrers was some forum thingy where a feller (obviously not a right-winger) has a thing for a Republican girl but doesn’t have the first clue how to woo her. i guess we *are* a different breed. translate that however you choose. :) so someone linked to my little corner of the blogosphere and recommended the wooer read up on what i have to say and wash off that hippy stench. the response…

Ahhhhh Sarah, my 2nd favourite Republican gal….another good looking one, must be a Republican thing. That girl in the link is scary, that’s not a Republican that’s the type of person that joins the Republic of Texas…

remember the Alamo, baby, i LIVE in the Republic of Texas. all hail the mighty state. :)

go Stars.

yeah, sorry ’bout that

blogging will continue to be light here until i get my stupid CPA license renewal paperwork filed with the state. i’m not used to doing this myself… so spoiled.

should be done by tomorrow night, though, and then you might even get BlogLib results out of me, and i know you just can’t wait for that.

monday blaahs

not me, no, i actually had a decent monday. this weekend i got my plans for my august Grand Canyon hike and Dave Matthews Band concert hammered out, and today i got my vacation changes approved (hooray), so even though i had a migraine for much of the day (i think that makes 4 in less than a week) and was doing that whole auditing thing, i can’t complain about my monday.

Redun over at Army Geeks (who currently serves this great nation on duty in Afghanistan) thinks he’s complaining. ha, that’s nothing in the complaining department, and yep, you’ve earned it. and you’ve made me swell with pride and even tear up a little. thank you, sir.

p.s. his is quickly becoming one of my daily reads. check him out, and also check out Signaleer, who’s there with him in Afghanistan.

what month is it?

last i checked, this is July, but you wouldn’t know it if you woke up on my couch in my livingroom in my little town of Amarillo.

it is FIFTY. FOUR. DEGREES.

in the TEXAS. PANHANDLE.

in July.

in other news, i did my arm and butt workout videos last night, and i don’t expect to be able to kick or even punch hippies today. *sigh* i guess it can wait till tomorrow.

Bush Bash!!

Ducky, my dear blogson who will be formally announced as such after i announce the birth of my blogdaughter who isn’t yet birthed because she’s momentarily away from the womb, went digging through someone’s trash and found an invitation to a Bush Bash. see, Ducky lives in the People’s Republic of California, so he has access to lots of celebrity puke-barrels.

eek, i speled barrels with 2 l’s, how embarasing would that have ben?

UPDATE: fixed the link.

what a terrible friend i am

hahaha. so i just got off the phone with Sandy, and we giggled and cried (from laughing) for most of the conversation, during which she informed me that she had no idea that i hated talking on the phone until she read it on my blog yesterday. i told her it’s because she and i don’t usually have dead air, except when she’s yelling at the kids, and i usually just ignore it because we laugh so much during the not-dead-air parts of our conversation that it’s worth it.

so after 40 minutes tonight, we had a minor lull in conversation, and she said, “okay, bye.” and i said, “okay, bye” and hung up, thinking, wow! what a good friend to not drag out the conversation now that we have nothing to say!

she called right back, and i immediately cracked up and asked, “what? did i hang up on you?” “yes, that wasn’t my real ‘bye’! i was making fun of you!” oops, my bad.

bye.

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Sandy Sandy Sandy!!!! you know those pre-made tollhouse cookies we get, the chocolate chip walnut ones that are so good that they almost never make it to the oven? i got the chocolate almond fudge ones, and they’re even better straight out of the package than the other ones. stinkin’ good after they’re baked too. yuuuuummmmm.

email funnies

my aunt wanda forwarded me this… hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. i don’t know where it originated.

Dear Abby,

I am a crack dealer in Beaumont, Texas who has recently been diagnosed as a carrier of HIV virus. My parents live in Fort Worth and one of my sisters, who lives in Pflugerville, is married to a transvestite. My father and mother have recently been arrested for growing and selling marijuana. They are financially dependent on my other two sisters, who are [p]r0stitutes in Dallas. I have two brothers, one is currently serving a non-parole life sentence at Huntsville for the murder of a teenage boy in 1994. My other
brother is currently in jail awaiting charges of [grexual] misconduct [...]. I have recently become engaged to marry a former [p]r0stitute who lives in Longview. She is a part time “working girl”. All things considered, my problem is this. I love my fiancée and look forward to bringing her into the family. I certainly want to be totally open and honest with her.

Should I tell her about my cousin who supports John Kerry for President?

Signed,
Worried About My Reputation