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In case you missed it, you can find my snarky Memorial Day post over at Craftastrophe. Here, however, I’m going to skip the snark today and share a photo of one of my favorite veterans of all time, my grandpa. Grandpa Lonon Thanks Grandpa (and Mom, and Dad, and Uncle Johnny, and cousin Aaron, and…) for your [...] I love you Manhattan and I'm really glad we're spending the day together. But damn, baby – you stink. Woof. # I’ve spent the last five hours trying to convince myself I don’t need this. So far, it’s not working. My only hope is that something pinker and hairier will come along quickly and capture my increasingly fleeting attention span. (As per usual, that sounded way dirtier than I intended.) It’s all Gwen’s fault, of course. I was [...] So first things first, I suppose. I’m all clean! Well, my CT scan is all clean. I’m still a filthy minded, hygienically challenged miscreant, but you people seem to go for that sort of thing. Who Needs Wheaties? It took all mother fucking day. I had my breakfast of champions at around 10am. But I didn’t leave [...] In honor of Sunday’s run in with Mrs. Gloria Gaynor and because I will doubtlessly be singing this song over and over in my head while popping Lorazapam and drinking radioactive smoothies today, I present you with a couple versions of “I Will Survive” gone horribly [...] Operation Keep Elly Distracted seems to be in full effect. I can’t count the number of amusing emails people have sent over the past couple of days with the subject of “made me think of you.” It’s some weird shit. My reply? I think that if that made you think of me then clearly you think I’m [...] If the leg warmers had been part of the package, I'd be wearing this bad boy right now. Or not. http://bit.ly/c1kXwS @craftastrophe # This morning I awoke to the sweet dulcet tones of Mildred wailing as she tried to claw her way out of the water bowl she’d somehow fallen into around 6am. Seriously. I’m starting to wonder if managed to find a kitten even dumber than Lucy. Thanks for all the sweet comments and notes yesterday, Interwebz. I didn’t [...] Just call me Grumpelstiltskin. I’m crabbier than Lindsay Lohan’s couch cushions and I can’t seem to break out of my funkagawea. Even reading a slew of vagina-related comments this morning on yesterday’s post didn’t pull me out of my funk. Well, that’s not exactly true. Apparently I’m just not in a vagina mood. When Britt introduced the [...] |
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