There’s poodles under all that rastafarian fur!
I hope they don’t start getting all snooty and, well, y’know…French.
Those of you who know me well are aware that there is a bit of a “smug alert” going on around me as I attempt to buy my way into heaven by trying to be more socially responsible.
I joined a CSA and buy organics whenever possible. I traded my gas-guzzling Tahoe in on a hybrid. I’ve swapped most of my incandescent bulbs for compact fluorescents. Our recycling bins are now twice as full as our trash cans, and not just with beer cans and wine bottles. I’ve been riding the bus to work a few times per week for about a year and a half, and now I’ve even started riding my bicycle at a high rate of speed through the `hood dodging hookers and junkies on my commute to the office.
Now you can join in, dear readers.
May 16th is officially “Ride Your Bike to Work Day.” Unfortunately for most folks, May 19th is officially “Finally Arrive at Work Day.” Wear a helmet.
If you’re gonna mess up my desk by putting sprinkles on top of your cupcakes, they should at least taste like something. Paper confetti icing. Feh.
And don’t get me started about those people that put mylar confetti balloons and palm trees and 40’s and dollar signs in the envelope with their party invitations to shower your cubicle when you rip it open. Unless you’re coming behind with a Dyson to clean that crap up, don’t even bother!
It brought to mind a happier time in 2002 when the torch passed a block from my house as part of the festivities surrounding the Salt Lake Games.
Look at RUABelle. Doesn’t she look happy and at one with the universe? And with her free Coca-Cola pennant, I feel as if she could break into song at any moment.
“I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony. [Perfect Harmoneeeee]
I’d like to buy the world a Coke, and keep it company. [It’s the real thing.]”
Ahh, can’t we all just get along?
Free Tibetan Refugees? I’ll take two, please.
My online Bank of America tries to automatically categorize my credit card expenses for year-end reporting purposes. I used my Visa to buy tickets to the Kids in the Hall show at the Ryman in May.
They showed up on my statement as “Child/Dependent Expenses.” Heh, I never knew I had five cross-dressing comedian sons.
I love my little cabbage-head, chicken-lady, head-crushing Lopez boys. 29 out of 30 Helens agree.
No matter who wins the NCAA Basketball Championship tonight, it looks like I won two of the four pools I entered brackets in.
The names of the groups that I am the champion of?
“Nashville Geeks” and “Bourbon-Swilling Losers.”
I rule. My mother would be so proud.
After a long winter’s nap, my trusty Murray lawnmower started right up on the first pull of the starter rope.
Damn, there goes that excuse.