it’s ed mcmahon…and i’m on the toilet!
Holy crap! I’ve been unexpectedly plugged. I feel like Ed McMahon just knocked on my door while I’m sitting on the toilet…and I have to answer. the first thing I’m thinking is, “Holy cow! That’s like, MY NAME on someone else’s blog!” And then I passed out.
When I woke up, I realized that in figurative terms, I was laying on the floor, half-in and half-out of the bathroom, with my pants around my ankles, and people still at the door. My first thought was, “Holy crap! I have to put up something funny in case someone stops by!” Kind of like frantically cleaning your house prior to a babysitting gig. *cough* vilate *cough*.
So I couldn’t really think of anything to write. I’m blank. Like, completely uninspired. I wanted to put up some more drunk pictures per Scott’s request, but I find that I’m fresh out. I did, however, put up a bid for a refurbished Kodak 5MP 10x optical zoom digital camera today while at work (what else I should have been doing, I don’t know), and the auction’s over in a couple days. So hopefully I will end up being able to take pics of the home front soon as I have been promising for ages.
I did have something heartbreaking happen today, though. Someone mowed my lawn.
Sadly, this is not a euphemism for someone shaving my woman parts. This means, in fact, that someone dragged their lawn mower over to my house while I was at work and mowed the part of my lawn that is outside my fence. On the surface, not a bad thing. Except that they completely chopped the heads off of all my pretty bluebells which were growing in this area between my driveway and walkway. Their little dead blossoms are scattered across my driveway as if someone came through and slaughtered a bunch of Smurfs and left them there to die. I am absolutely heartbroken. And also irritated: if you’re going to mow my lawn, how about the part that’s so long that the Dog disappears when he lays down? I’m trying to decide if this was spite, like maybe the Dog pooped somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, or perhaps someone just got tired of seeing George of the Jungle swinging through the forest which is my backyard. Or maybe someone was just being nice. But then again I have to circle back…what about the rest?
It’s clear to me. I need to take a walk around the block this week, locate some suitably eye-candy-ish dude mowing his lawn and offer him money (or, you know, whatever) for mowing. The lawn, of course. Only he better have a weedwhacker, ‘cuz when I say I have a forest back there, I’m totally not joking. Seriously.
I posted part five tonight. Evidently drunk pictures are way more entertaining than life stories, because yesterday’s intoximacated blog was #22 in its category. In the parties category! I am amazed. At least I kinda look like Meg Ryan.
Thanks, Rocketman. You’re freaking rad.
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[…] that are just starting to show themselves. You may remember last year when someone cruelly murdered my bluebells, leaving them strewn about the driveway like “a bunch of poor, slaughtered Smurfs”. […]