Sail and I are in complete agreement.
Spike's Bitches 25 to Life
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I would definitely complain, Jess. There can't have been that many women manning the phone in the pharmacy at the time you called, and you have to go over there anyway.
I'm much better at making complaints over the phone than in person.
ION, I'm debating whether or not to go up to the OfficeMax at Atlantic Center and get velcro tape (for my Alton-Brown-esque Wall o'Spices), or just order it over Amazon. On the plus side, I'd have it today. On the down side, this blister on the bottom of my foot hurts like a motherfucker, and I probably shouldn't walk on it.
(Also, I'd have to shower and put on clothes, which would severly compromise my standings in the World's Laziest Human Being championship, which I am currently winning hands-down.)
Ugh. People like that are the reason I don't like using the phone. I'm always terrified that I'll get one.
I have decided that I love chubby baby arms and thighs more than toes. I know, I'm weird.
I love their noses. Wee little squishable noses!
The baby arms are so weird, because the hand looks like a separate piece of human that's merely attached to the limb.
We've had a brain leap in the last few days. Increased focus, intentional manipulation of hanging objects, blah blah blah. Scary fast, this cog-knit-if development.
whiiiiiiiiiiiiiine
I should spend my day working on clearing out the storage room, especially since I didn't do it yesterday due to cramps, tiredness, and general crankypants-ness. I don' wanna. I want to Go Somewhere and Do Something. I don't know what, exactly, but I want to Leave The House.
The problem with this? Pete is under a very tight deadline, so he can't go anywhere. Everyone else I would run around with has other plans. I *could* go wander about on my own, but that will involve taking the (hot, meandering) bus somewhere, which is not thrilling at the best of times and really, really un-fun during blazingly sunny days.
sigh
I guess I will be a grown-up about this, and spend my day cleaning the storage room. 'Be a grown-up' as in, being responsible, because I will probably be cranky and grumpy about the whole thing.
Bah. Bah, I say.
(Also, I'd have to shower and put on clothes, which would severly compromise my standings in the World's Laziest Human Being championship, which I am currently winning hands-down.
Oh, don't get too cocky there missy. Did you miss my zombie comment?
If you have put on pants today, then I'm winning. So there.
Like I said, don't get too cocky there, missy.
Scary fast, this cog-knit-if development.
Emeline has taken (for some months now) to staring intently at everything, as if to say "Okay, I'm watching. Do your thing, whatever it is.... Come on now.... DANCE, MONKEY, DANCE!"
Her focus is scary. I'm starting to see a similar look in Lily's eyes in those pictures.
I went back to bed at 10:30 and slept until 2:30. I feel much better now.
I'm voting with all those people who said to report the woman for rudeness, Jessica. You could just call. I bet there are only a couple of women in the pharmacy today, at most, and probably the troublemaker already has a reputation.
Sail, thank you for that recipe! I'd been looking for it but didn't know what to call it. It needs to go in the buffista cookbook.
Jilli, you need full-time minions. I wouldn't want to be grown up about that either.