Right now we’re arguing about what to do for Katie’s birthday. Do we want to see a movie? Eat slabs of dead cow? The horror, the horror. And I already got her a camera months ago so she’s not getting a Big Ticket Item. Hm. I didn’t get MY big ticket item for my birthday. Screw it, I’m buying an MP3 player. No, I should buy “durable kitchen ware”. Cleaning solution? Buckets of smack? I can’t even talk about what happened to me at the border coming back from Arlington because a) no one would believe me and b) I’d lose my job if they did. (2019 says I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION WHATSOEVER OF THIS EVENT) Life goes on in endless song above earth’s lamentation. Or some such. Hints at loose association for sure. This morning I decided to read a meditation to Paul about breathing. It freaked him out. (You imagine breathing in and out tiny lions and firecrackers, among other things.) It’s out of a book called “Conceptual Blockbusters” which I highly recommend if you’re stuck anyplace (except in your car, although you could put the book under your back tire for traction, or better yet shred it) in your life. There are many fine suggestions and illustrations. Some of it is quite funny. Humor, as we all know (properly spelled humour) (as we all know) is key to problem solving. Although laughing at the guy with a gun in his hand is probably not a good idea. Has anyone else seen the picture of Bush and Clinton getting close while going through a door at the Clinton Library opening? I’m glad he’s taking the job of making fun of him onto himself, it’s easier that way. I’d post it but anybody can see it on Wonkette and I’m too lazy to post the attribution.
Deep breath. So my youngest child is 16 tomorrow. I could go at great length about how my little girl is all growed up etc etc but I will just breathe a thankful sigh that we’re all still alive after the crazyassed year we’ve been through. Off to the Parole officer today. Katie wrote a stupendous essay about why whacking people is a bad idea (whack as in ‘strike’ not as in ‘eliminate with a revolver’) and what she plans to do in future when people are talking like idiots in her vicinity. I was very pleased and I hope Natalie the Parole officer is happy with it too. Katie likes her.
If I won a lottery I’d pay off my mortgage, buy Beacon a building and go travelling to Bruges, land of beer and chocolate. I’d probably croak with a big dark beer in my hand and melted chocolate on my hands and mouth, but I’d be happy. Put my kids into university? Why, don’t they have to GRADUATE first?
My coworker in the States showed me a can of stuff that’s supposed to be for arthritis called “JOINT JUICE”, begging the question, “What the farce is in it?”
I have all kinds of plans of what I want to do today and of course Paul is making life difficult for me. He wants me to do this thing called work. This is my day off and if I want to sit at the computer all day it’s my right. Okay okay, I’m out of here. This line deleted because it’s verbally abusive. This one too. Okay, I’m cutting this line. Out with this line, obviously we’re raising the ante here. Bye all.