1. It is Monday.
2. Today is the day I start back on my eat healthy and go to the gym goals.
3. There was a cockroach toes-up in the middle of my kitchen this morning (hey, it's the south). I assumed Sekhmet had killed it. When I went to pick it up to put it in the trash, THE MOTHERFUCKER JUMPED ON ME.
4. It is 7:45 AM and some asshole fuckwit moron is out there running an air hammer. The Goob isn't awake yet, and when she's awakened (instead of being allowed to wake up naturally) she is really cranky. I'm about to go out there and stuff that fucking air hammer up their nose and push Play.
And that photo yesterday is the cast-on to the half-hex spider shawl in Victorian Lace Today. Bells, you're still a boogerhead. My in-laws are going to kidnap your brother and feed him German food. Let that be a lesson to you.
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6 comments:
I'm sorry to laugh, but boowahahaha about the cockroach. Maybe Skhemet trained it to play dead.
I hope the hammer man allows Goob to sleep. I think he should have to take care of her if she's crabby.
Trish
Boogerhead? What a superb invective!
Seems like it's a good idea to squish even dead-looking roaches. I'd have peed myself.
I'll hold the hammerman so you can jam the hammer, etc. Let sleeping babes lie!
Okay--the cockroach thing was fucking funny--but really--damned cat. If she can't kill a cockroach, she loses her right to jump on your head when you're not paying attention.
And the air-jackhammer should be shoved up his nose until it comes out his ass. For real.
*sigh* I had cats who killed palmetto bugs (the REALLY big "roaches") when we lived in Tuscaloosa, AL. We'd find little roach legs scattered around, along with headless, dismembered roach carcasses. DH and I both think the cats ripped off half the legs to watch the roach run in circles, then administered the coup de grace. Somewhere in that rental house is a teeny tiny little trophy room of roach heads...
After 4 years of stepping on little crunchy roach legs, I think I'd rather have one faking death on me.
My tom passed away, but my little female is now 15 and very frail. At night when she stares off into the distance and her eyes glow blue, I wonder if she is reliving some of the hunts....
X-p
In the "yerg" vein, I found the remains of a hawk kill (feathers, beak and feet!) out in my yard t'other day.
At least they couldn't jump on me!
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