Gaaarrrghaghaghagh!

Ow. I have cramps. Owwwwww. It's that time of the month when my uterus
starts doing somersaults and cartwheels so enthusiastically that I
wouldn't be surprised if it burst out of my body and started dancing
across the floor, singing 'Hello, My Baby' like Michigan J. Frog. Or
was that Spaceballs? Gah. Anyway, I'm in pain. A lot. Right now I'm
lying on the sofa debating getting up. 'No' is winning. Bleurgh.

Fetch the Bucket!

This is pretty cool...one of my primo sources for forwarded emails sent this to me, and the funny thing is, it was weirdly correct.  Coo.

 

Food for thought...
This is a unique personality test. There are only 4 questions but the results are very interesting. I was kind of shocked by what some of my answers meant. Be honest and honor what pops into your mind when the questions present themselves. Just click on the following:
 
 
http://memoriter.net/flash/test.html

I started out being unintentionally not-honest (as in not truly reflective) on the first question, then I changed it and thought a long time about it (before I moved to Question 2), and the answer was SO correct for me, that I couldn't have done it any other way. 

 

Anyway...I would go into the drama-shit that is my life, but...I would rather just ignore it.  :-)  But I *will* say that the person at Eviljob about whom I complained the other day actually GAVE ME THE SILENT TREATMENT!  Whaaa-0HAAAAA!  I must admit, I've not been given The Silent Treatment since like...ohhh...lessee...my BFF Renee in GRADE FOUR???  Clearly, I'm sorely over-due, cos I am an obnoxious bint and all.  Sigh.  Whatever.  Do yer worst.  Fookin' pansyass.

 

Butsoanyway.

 

One of the drawbacks of having a teacher-mommy is that the bitch is trying to teach you something, anything, constantly, from the moment you're out the womb, cos she is compelled to and can't stop.  My Mommy even tried to teach her cat, Arby, to talk.  Seriously.  Taught her words like 'teeth', 'pants', 'squeakymouse', and so on.  The down side to this is that Arby now actually thinks she *can* talk. But that's another story; my point was that Mummers taught me to read and write before I ever hit school.  She also let me learn to write left-handedly, cos I did it naturally, and so I spent much of my early school years trying to un-learn being left handed, cos the less-understanding teachers in the school district I attended (not my Mommy's commie liberal school district) said that I would be 'happier' as a Righty.  And as my lugubrious wallowings here clearly demonstrate, they sure did know what they were talking about, hmmm?

 

  I *could* tell you that she had me reading by two, which is true, but it's not like I'm bringing Mom onto my blog to prove it should there be a disbeliever, so feh -- suffice it to say I was reading and writing before I ever went to school.  Therefore, reading is SO deeply ingrained a habit, and so totally reflexive, that by now I read things without meaning to read them...I cannot help it.  And I whole-word read (I forget the alternate term), which I never knew people don't usually do until about five years ago or so. 

 

Why do I mention this?  Because knowing that I do that, and use my peripheral vision constantly, you don't want to ever leave email and crap sitting out where I can read them, even if you think I am looking at something on the other side of your L-shaped desk.  Srsly.  But that's not actually why I mention it.  I mention it because when I read something all at once, sometimes my brain just picks out salient words and moves on to the next topic -- I 'get' the meaning, but the actual words hanging out in my brain are often not the same thing as the actual meaning, which is how I came to make myself sick at work today laughing over my mis-reading of this:

 

Chococat Throw Up Storage Bag

 

I swear, that Sanrio thinks of fricking *everything*!  All the cool bulimics in Japan have one.  Rilly. 

 

.

Now It Can Be Told

I love butterscotch. Like a LOT. I am sitting at Eviljob with a
butterscotch pop. Yay. And i was called over the weekend about a found
kitten whose eyes weren't even open yet, and i saw it today, and it's
adorable -- maybe a week old. We got it with a nice lady who is able
to take it all day with her in a teensy cat carrier with KMR and
bottles. So cute! Life is sorta good.

Customer Suggestion

Dear Pest Control Company,

Why don't you tell your idiot, clearly-male webmaster to quit f-ing
around posting the kind of pictures you have on your website and
putting up all that crap about what phylum and genus bugs are, and
instead be USEFUL and post pictures of spiders that have been SQUASHED
or BUG-SPRAYED TO DEATH, so that I can decide if I need to phone you
in the morning or not. I don't care what it ate when it was alive. I
don't care how many babies it has at one time (ICK!!!). And I
**REALLY** don't care how many eyes it used to have before I smashed
it into Oblivion. No one cares but you; everyone dutifully taking
their meds just wants the damned things out of their house. Post
pictures we can USE.

Thank you.

Still Awake

Argh. But the good news is that I am almost done.