That should be a Schoolhouse Rock title, but instead, it’s my life. I have been putting off running errands and packing, and we’re leaving for Georgia tomorrow. I finally got up off my ass and picked up my dry-cleaning, which has been sitting there for, like, a week. My only impetus was the fact that Kamel and GMan were on their way to my house, and I wanted to get errands done before they got here (mission accomplished). Still, though, I haven’t packed a thing, and it’s so not in my nature to leave it till the last minute. I think it’s safe to say that I’ll be running around like a crazy lady tonight. In the meantime, however, General Hospital is on, and let’s face it: the goings-on in Port Charles are a tad bit more important than throwing crap in a suitcase.
CNN is reporting that the DNA found on JonBenet Ramsey’s body does not match that of John Mark Karr. Sure, he’s a psycho-crazy pedophile, but let’s face it: we all kinda knew he wasn’t the killer. Now if we could only get OJ on the case….
Without the internet, I would have to buy a plane ticket and fly to San Francisco. Fortunately for me, I am able to order the most delicious treat in the world with just a click. That’s right, I’m talking about fudge. The best fudge in the whole wide world. Fudge that is even better than mine (and that’s saying something). For those of you who are fortunate enough to live in the Bay area, I hate you. You can have yummy fudge any time you want (not to mention the fact that you have easy access to all the tasty North Beach restaurants). For the rest of us, Z cioccolato offers online ordering. Try the Tiger Butter. It’s better than sex (at least, it’s better than average sex. You know, the kind you had when you were a teen-ager). Just don’t blame me when you become an addict.
Everything you thought you knew is wrong. Case in point? Pluto is no longer a planet. No word on how Disney plans to respond.
What a good day. Tom Cruise has been sacked by Paramount. Ever since the whole “jumping up and down on Oprah’s couch” thing, I just can’t stomach him. Plus, it’s kinda creepy that he’s kept his Robo-Wife and baby under wraps for so long. And Scientology? Please. Nobody needs that much niacin. And the Thetans aren’t really in control. And any “religion” that has it’s very own (cultish) “Celebrity Centre” has got to be bogus.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be over here playing with my spiffy new Mark Super VII electropsychometer.
Dear Geckos that live in my kitchen,
I realize that you find my kitchen to be the perfect summer home, and I realize that the back door has a little space at the bottom that you can squeeze through, but we have dogs. And pesticide around the floor boards. So far, I have managed to save 5 or 6 of you, but if this continues, I can’t guarantee additional protection. You may think that this is some kind of karmic retribution, but believe me when I say that I didn’t mean to set that lizard on fire that one time (plus, it was a really long time ago, and there is no way I could have known it was in the firewood before I lit the fire, and I cried for a really long time. I’m still scarred.).
Sure, I love the Geico lizard, and I love Burt Bacharach, but you really have to stop making my kitchen your new home. You’re cute, but looks will only get you so far. For your own good, please consider relocating to the garden.
Thank you for your time,
The Nice (Not Lizard Killing) Lady That Owns the Kitchen
I babysit a set of 4 year-old twins every once in a while, and let me tell you: they are exhausting. They also happen to be super-cute, which makes up for the exhaustion factor. Today, they decided to nap a little early, because, in their words, “If we rest now, we’ll have more time to play later”. These kids are smart.
So, today we watched Lazy Town, colored, and made our own play doh. And this was all before nap time. They’re down for an hour now, so at least I have a little time to figure out what our next activity will be.
Hey. It’s good practice.
Wow. He must be a busy, busy boy.
truck rig is in the shop, so he had to drive my car today. This would not normally be a bad thing for him, since, although it’s not nearly as manly as his F-150, it’s certainly not as bad as driving a mini-van.
Except for one itty-bitty, teensie-weensie thing. Many of you know of my quest to find a Hello Kitty window cling. This search lasted for years, and finally, just to shut me up, Kevin had one specially made for me. And I, who firmly believe in NEVER putting stickers on your vehicle—ever—now have the little kitty proudly displayed on my back window. Also? I drive a black SUV. It’s Texas. It’s August. That means it’s about 200 degrees outside, so it’s imperative that you use a sunshade in your front window. Mine? A pink Hello Kitty sunshade, of course!
Yep. Pretty emasculating. He may never recover. I, on the other hand, think it’s hilarious.
It’s 10:08 at night, and it’s still 99 degrees outside. IT’S NEVER GOING TO END!!!!!
I’m just sayin’.
So. Who’s planning on going to see Snakes on a Plane? Just curious.
Yeah, I know. I have way too much time on my hands. The thing is, I’ve taken to spending a little time on Google Video and YouTube (mostly because it’s fun to see people make complete asshats of themselves). And then there’s this guy. He’s a 79 year-old British widower, and he kicks major ass. So, if you’ve got a little free time (or a lot, like me), go check him out. I know, I know….he’s getting plenty of press already, but still.
Even more disturbing than the fat guy singing “Hips Don’t Lie” is the fact that Jerry Springer has signed on for next season’s “Dancing With the Stars”. It’s hideous, and yet I cannot look away.
In other news, my intervention for my reality TV addicton is set for later this week. Hope you can make it!
Yes, “Hips Don’t Lie” is the ringtone assigned to Kevin on my cell phone. However, after watching this, I may just have to change that.
First, the bad news: I HATE, yes, HATE the Lowe’s in Flower Mound. The employees that “work” there are a prime example of the worst of the worst in retail. If they worked for me, I’d fire them. Remember: I worked retail for years, mostly as a General Manager. The service consitently sucks, so much so that we are more than willing to drive 5 miles out of our way to go to the next closest one, where, incidentally, the service is quite good. (BTW, Home Depot in Flower Mound is actually worse, so there is really no other alternative). And yes, I’ve complained.
Now, for the good news: I love my local Kroger (located in Highland Village. If you live up this way, drive the extra time to get to this particular store—trust me, it’s worth it). Seriously. I would marry it if I could. The service is always fantastic, and today, I cleaned them out of flat-iron steaks (which you can’t find at any other local grocery, and it’s way more expensive to get them at the local butcher). I love that they even carry flat-iron steaks. I love that they carry really fresh lump crab meat. I love that they have really good prices. I love that they always, and I mean always, say “Thank You” like they mean it. They’ve never once failed to offer to help me to my car. Every employee in the store greets you when you walk by. They ALWAYS call for assistance at the deli and butcher counters when there is more than one person standing there. And yes, I’ve written a letter to the GM to let him know how great is staff is.
Sure, it sounds inconsequential to most, but I have a really big thing about customer service. If you can’t deliver, get out of the business. And if you can, then you deserve a big, fat raise. If you as the consumer notices really good service, please, on behalf of retail workers everywhere, let the GM know, It really makes their day, and it does have a positive effect on the employees.