The One Where the Label (and Grammar) Sucks
This is one of those days where I would like people to just leave me the fuck alone. However, since nobody else seemed to have gotten the memo, and keep wandering in asking for food and attention and can I come out of the closet please, it's hot in here I'll be good ... I don't really have a proper end to this statement. Hmmmm.
This has been an interesting week. I lost a chicken (not 'lost' as in: "Well, did you check under the couch cushions?" but 'lost' as in 'Laying eggs is for suckers, I wanna be STEW.') I'm not sure exactly sure how it happened, but I'm relatively sure it went something like this: "Hey, Other Chickens! Wanna see something really cool? I can fit my ENTIRE HEAD between this cinderblock and the underside of the chicken coop, and JUMP OFF!" So, starting the week by burying one of my critters (to which my husband yells: "YOU didn't bury ANYTHING, I DID.") ... fine, METAPHORICALLY burying one of my critters (and when, exactly, did I become Ellie Mae Clampett, and can I be expecting the boobs anytime soon?) just seemed like an icky way, karmically (karma-ically? karmicly?) speaking way to start the week.
Then I get the holy mother of god this fucking HURTS migraine from hell on acid two days later (you know the type, when you have a steel band wrapped around a vise grip that is digging into your brain (and, as a side note? When your significant other is prostrate on the floor, sobbing in agony and describing the pain as above, it's NOT helpful to spout out bits of information like this: "Well, you can't feel ANYthing in your brain, as there are no nerve endings up there." "Oh, yeah? Well, are there nerve endings down HERE?!?" (This last statement was only just now made up, and was never uttered out loud. I'm way too refined and delicate a flower to utter such vulgarities to my dear spouse.) Which brings me to another totally related and not at all bizarre segue; this is just one of the best lines ever: "I'm pleasant. Damn it! I saw Drum Eatenton at the Piggly Wiggly this morning, and I smiled at the son of a bitch 'fore I could help myself." Which also leads to one of the worst lines ever: "Smile! It increases your face value!" Which leads to the question: There was a Steel Magnolias TV show? Who thought this was a good idea? I'll bet it was someone who enjoys that particular line, and has a poster with a kitten hanging from a branch with the caption: Hang in there!
Well, I suppose I'll have to have some sort of moral ending or some shit like that, now, won't I? Let's see ...I know! It could always be worse. See?
Thanks be to Derek for A) having the type of job where he can sit around and record insects instead of WORKING, and B) probably being the only person to read and/or comment on this drivel.