I am Afraid. Very Afraid.
TODAY’S DATE: June 10, 2008. I’d be very worried if I was the person who owned this lock. Like, I’d be missing my gym clothes BADLY.
GrandPa’s Bus Company
I guess it depends how old Grandpa is, but I’d really feel much better with Wontrestmyeyesatredlights Bus Company driving a hoard of school kids around Manhattan than GRANDPA.
With My Heart In My Mouth
Saturday, the end of a long friggin’ nightmarish week…you can tell from my LAST POST that, well, things could be a little easier on the home front. Teenagers have a way of wishing you could take every lie back you told your mother, (like that one about sleeping over Debbie Zinder’s house when you were really going out with Alex,) so that the god’s would reward your good behavior and anoint you with the perfect child who doesn’t make you go gray and gain ten pounds and become addicted to chocolate and wine. But I …
The Lybrel Difference
So this ad really cracks me up:
“Many health care professionals agree that there is no need to have a period while taking the pill”. (Why not add: There’s no need to shit, fart, pee, burp, sleep, laugh, cry, live, screw, or eat when on the pill either?)
Is that because many thousands more health care professionals are making gazillions of dollars from those women who took the pill for so many years, that their ovaries need a huge mega dose of hormones to jumpstart their engines? And why do so many women feel …
Your Lousy Life
So many of you have been asking me when they’ll be able to comment, and respond to my posts. SOON… my developer tells me. Whatever THAT means. In the meantime, if you want to send me your own lousy life, with your own lousy pictures, you can. I succombed to an email account: laradeans@aol.com. So send them now, and see them Monday. Maybe. If they are lousy enough.
Check back later to see why his little life is lousy :(
You Call This Art? (Paid for by my taxes)
This I can call art.
This I can Kinda call art.
This? This I call a giant dog turd made from metal in a park where lots of dogs poop, paid for by my ridiculously high New York City taxes. (At least they seem ridiculously high as April 15th approaches.)
Unless this was paid for by a donation and even then I would have rather’d that donation have been used …
The Kiss Part V: Epilogue, at Least I Hope for Now
SETTING: Dinnertime, a week after the big event (Me finding Bella with a boy in her Bedroom).
ME: So what happened?
BELLA: Well, I tried to call him on the phone but he didn’t pick up. So I texted him and told him I was not ready for a relationship
ME: And????
BELLA: He said, “OK.” Why was he so easily convinced?
ME: I don’t know. (cause you gave the milk away for FREE!)
BELLA: Probably because he got what he wanted. Boys are DOGS.
ME: Yes they are. (Men are dogs).
BELLA: I can’t even look at a boy any more without thinking YUCK.
ME: GOOD.
BELLA: Except for …