Radio Announcer: *breathlessly* Remember, if you start to burn fat TOO quickly while using our product, be sure to reduce the dosage!
Me: And yes, it IS customary for you to include a gratuity with your payment, thank you for asking. Your order, as well as your complimentary bridge, is ON ITS WAY!
Today I found a dead crumpet stuffed into the back of my refrigerator. Fortunately for me, it was just a piece of bread because I am neither British nor a comic book character.
Today I realized that many people’s behavior becomes easily explainable if one presumes that “outrage fetish” is an actual thing . . .
Let me say up front that I happen to like the show Sofia the First, and I’m glad my son watches it on occasion. I particularly get a kick out of the “shared universe” aspect of the show when another Disney character makes an appearance.
But there in lies a bit of problem.
In the back of my mind I keep expecting Little John from Disney’s Robin Hood to pop up and start singing, “Too late to be known as Sofia the first, she’s sure to be known as Sofia the worst . . .”
Unsafe food consumption and peer pressure, an analysis of Green Eggs and Ham.
(This is perilously close to something I actually read the other day . . .)
Today I was presented with the theoretical situation of what would I do if my fifteen-year-old son asked me what I thought of the idea of him getting on a bus to travel hundreds of miles alone so he could meet someone he’d meet online.
It didn’t take me long to come up with my answer.
“What I’d tell him,” I said, “is that if that’s what he really wants to do, what he needs to do is wait for the end of humanity on Earth, give it enough time for the radiation levels to die down and for the cockroaches to achieve sentience, then ask his cockroach father and see what he says.”
“You are a goddess among mortals,” I told Lala yesterday as she handed me a much needed cup of cheer.
Preening, she responded with, “I’ve always known that, but it’s nice to have it acknowledged.”
I looked at her askance. “A goddess of arrogance, it seems,” I sighed.
Me as I’m going though the stack of papers that accumulated while I was on my trip:
Why did I throw this on the pile? Oh, right! It has a coupon for (Loratadine). Normally I don’t fiddle with coupons, but this one is worth its weight in gold to me.
Contemplates for a moment.
I wonder how much stock I’d have to buy to get a bulk discount on this stuff . . .
Yesterday, in response to a stranger’s overly personal question, a friend of mine expressed that she didn’t like “labels,” and this exchange dredged up an old memory of mine from the days when I was being asked overly intrusive questions about my philosophical beliefs.
My usual response to such questions is to explain that I consider those beliefs private, in no small part because they are constantly evolving, but some people simply won’t accept a polite “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours.” So one day when I was being pressed because I “must have some way to describe what you believe,” I decided to be . . . “accommodating.”
“Just consider me a Zen anarchist pirate,” I told them.
“Oh, look!” L’s Mother exclaimed while we were in the car the other day. “Cute puppy!”
Since I was driving, I could only spare a fraction of a second to glance in the direction she was pointing, but as near as I could tell, the puppy was indeed cute. So cute, in fact, that the puppy reminded me of our own puppy, Isa, and the emergency bath I had to give her earlier that day.
“All puppies are cute when you’re not the one getting **** out of their fur,” I chuckled.
