I'm not quoting Ms. Parker on behalf of myself today. Nope, things are pretty darned good in my little world. Very good, indeed. I just like the quote; always have. I utter it a lot, in fact, in various and sundry situations. But not today. Although ... it is still early and I'm dealing with a difficult and impatient client. Between her and me and all the barely cooperative (clearly hormonal) people with whom I've had to coordinate her newest motions, it was like Estrogen City here for a little while. It's a good thing none of us had swords. Things are calm again now, knock on wood.
I do realize that the second I admit to having an excellent day (and no homicidal thoughts), the gods could throw a sucker punch my way for their amusement.
So, there was this guy in Lynchburg doing some yard work the other day when he got spooked by a snake. I don't even know what kind of snake it was. It was just ... a snake. Chances are it was a harmless garden snake or black snake; i.e., it probably wasn't a cobra. Anyhow -- Boo! It scared him. I wouldn't be at all surprised to hear that he squealed like a little girl. At any rate, he got his knickers in a bunch and ran and grabbed the gas can from the garage.
Not satisfied with nearly drowning the hapless reptile in gasoline, this Mensa candidate lit a match. Snake must have said "Boo!" again, because the whiz kid freaked again and dropped the match. The poor snake, of course, pretty well immediately fried. But the story doesn't end there. Ohhhhh, no. This is super evolved intelligence we're talking about here.
Smoldering Mr. Snake ignited the porch, which burned to the ground and set the rest of the house on fire. Our hero proceeded to grab the garden hose and douse the flames. He "thought" he'd gotten the job done, but nooooot quite. He kind of missed the hot embers down inside the walls. By the time the fire department arrived on the scene to do the job properly, half the house had burned down. How many of you think dude would have been much better off to have simply altered his course a little, given Mr. Snake his space, and gone on along with his own business? And how many of you blame me for laughing my ass off at this little gem of at least quasi poetic justice?
antholody - "Anthology, the Musical."
perfudy - Extra-bad stuff that Elmer Fudd does.
weather you do or don't - Proof that you really can't control the climate.
You want a prolem? I'll give you a prolem! What's worse than a FEMA worker showing up on your doorstep? TWO FEMA workers! I'm calling right now.
And I'll have you know my maiden aunt and my awkward cousin twice removed saw my book, too. Ha! Put that in your crack pipe and smoke it.
Dear Ss or whatever,
Candyass? Ohh, thanks for the new name! I'll bet Uncle Billie is really going to like that one!
FEMA workers are so lame, we have no fear of them and in fact, welcome the chance to resonate with them. Could you please hasten them along to us?
I'm tired of your whining now and it's time for Billie's knob to be polished.
Then I take it back! I'd rather cut off my 2 typing fingers than do anything that pleases your nasty ol' Uncle Billie.
If you don't fear FEMA, then it's only because you're too stupid to come in out of the rain. You wait 'til they swarm all over your townhouse and tell you it's totaled and you have to move out, to a government issue trailer, in the hot sun, with no water, and no grocery voucher. Ha-ha-ha! We'll see who gets the last laugh.
I'll decide when I'm done whining, thank you very much. Lord, Lord, I cannot believe you are admitting in public that doing wicked things with your dirty old uncle is part of your job description. I'm calling the EEOC and Erin Brockovich on you both.
Now, then -- what are you going to do about my book cover?
Undeserving of Brown Paper Wrappers
Boy, did you get that one right! LOLOL!
I was speaking of dear Uncle Willie's bald head. It has to be polished every day to give it just the right sheen. What did YOU think I was talking about?
Book cover smuck cover. You aren't getting a new one. Read your contract, dummy. Your book got the cover and the chance it deserved, just like they all do.
And don't get all offended and send me tone -- suckers are candy.
Listen, if I were you, I'd still be looking for another job because, honey, a knob is a knob is a knob. A knob by any other name... Well, you get my drift. You shouldn't ought to have to be putting your hands anywhere on Uncle Billie's person as part of your job. Comprende?
Yo, who you calling dummy? I read my contract. Twenty-seven other people read my contract. Nobody could make heads nor tails out of the gobbledygook you call a contract. So don't tell me to go read my contract. Just fix the damn cover. I know one thing my contract does state in black and white and English: that my book will have an attractive cover! You tell me what's attractive about plain brown paper! You don't fix it, I'm going to take the next chance I can get to give you the ass-kicking you deserve. Your hurt will resonate from sea to shining sea and your humiliation at getting whupped by a girl will fit you like a glove. Tone that cover up NOW, you TWIT!
Wunderkind in Combat Boots
|You Should Get An Asian Inspired Tattoo|
Mysterious and expressive
You like to show off, but you also like to keep some allure