On Dreaming In English
I've been having this urge the last couple days to use the word pisser, as in, "He's such a pisser." It's probably the Hugh Grant dreams I've been having where he walks around with his hands in his pockets, very Cary Grantish, and says things like, "He's such a pisser." Maybe. But I haven't said it because with my luck it's one of those really bad English swear words that sound funny but aren't* and I'd probably blurt it out at the park and there'd be a huge convention for English Nannies of Highly Impressionable English Children. Because they have those. A lot. Like all the time.
* You know, like bloody and cheerio.
On Gardening Ethics
I was grumpily watering the flowers, trees, shrubs and stuff outside because it was going to be a really hot day-like 88 (quit snickering desert people) and I realized I only watered the plants I liked. Hydrangea? Nice long drink. Stupid poky Ponderosa wanna be shrub? Barely a sprinkle. Then I remembered the very LOUD newborn baby pooping that woke me up at 5:30 and the whining three year old that followed at 7 when I headed downstairs and I smiled as I giddily played with the thought of applying my gardening ethics to parenting.**
**It's called dark humor people. You know, like this:
On Aliens Taking Over The World
I found a death threat from aliens posted at the coffee shop. Thank goodness they want chai and not coffee! Otherwise I'd have to learn how to play a video game like Space Invaders or Tetris to defend my coffee-I MEAN WORLD! No country! Um, fellow man...? Ah, crapazoidal. We all know I mean my coffee. My gorgeous, dark, highly caffeinated, keeps me awake in the middle of the day and all the hours on either side, creamy, delicious coffee.... (sigh)
I think there were more comments stashed somewhere in my head, but I can't find them because I've run out of coffee and the buzz is wearing off from my cappuccino flavored plumping lip gloss.