I'm better now. The bad moon is gone -- or at least moving along -- and I am once again in possession of my faculties. Somewhat. Between bad moon rays and thunderstorms, it was like hell's a-poppin' around here last night. Moon's on the wane now, along with the extreme heat of the past few days, and the air feels much more breathable. My head is clearer, I'm no longer jumping out of my skin (much) and it's looking very much like I just might live after all. Who knows, perhaps I'll be completely over it just in time for TWO full moons next month. Oh, what bounty. Ain't life grand? I'd pack my bags, change my identity, and try to outrun it but...
Nowhere to run, baby, nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide
~ (Martha & the Vandellas, "Nowhere to Run")
I spent about 30 seconds this morning staring at my wrist, trying to see what time it was, before it dawned on me that, duh, I didn't have my watch on. I could be senile by the time of the next full moon, in which case I won't know what it is and won't have to worry about it.
I don't even mind that it's dark and rainy today. It somehow seems appropriate.
You just kinda wasted my precious time
But don't think twice, it's all right
(~ Bob Dylan, "Don't Think Twice")
Today's Charm Pointer
Q. As you know, Charm Lady, the Queen is in America. What should I wear when I meet her?
A. I recommend a burlap sack. You can't go wrong there. #1, you'll look dowdier than the Queen. She'll like that. #2, if you dribble your food at dinner, nobody will notice. #3, if you fall flat on your face while curtsying, somebody can grab your drawstring and yank you back up. And #4, the guards like the sacks because it makes it harder to run if they have to shoot you.
manscript - The lines some unimaginative Lotharios read to the ladies.
10 dollors - How much more than $2.00 a dolled-up hooker can get.
porcelin - Toilets for the porcine set.
There was a recent attempt to hack into my website. That wouldn't have been you, would it?
Pissed And Sassy Site Owner -- the one and only
Dear PatentlyAsinineSilly Girl,
How dare you accuse of us such a dastardly act! Why, the sting of your blow is resonating all over my office and smacking me in the head like an ill fitting glove. I will expect your prompt apology for this childish outburst, and then you're going to go and see Uncle Bill. Trust me, he will put the fear in you.
Just between you and me, I heard there could have been a donkey involved in your attack. All I know is that we didn't do it. It makes us really angry that you would suspect us. I'm so upset that I think I'm going to start revising the "Tone" dropdown menu and, ahem, get us some new IP numbers while I'm at it. I'm also so upset that I'm not even going to give you any Tone until I come up with something new.
Even though you didn't sign the non-disparage agreement, we will be expecting your check in the amount of $5,000 for scaring us so badly. Like we don't have enough heat to worry about. I am so tired of all you drama queens out there. Why the hell didn't you query Random House?
Not a bit sincerely,
This question is for your Zobmi Girl. I hear tell she has an assassination with Bill ever Wednesday afternoon at the Motel Hell. Is that true? If it is what do they do their? Are they thinking up knew skemes? Correlaborating the offshore bank account numbers? Getting there papers in order? I know it can't be sex stuff. Ewwww. I mean who would do that? I don't think even that poor incontinent author woman in the rubber room at the home would touch that. Well I think there is laws against that and they won't let her cop no please neither. Tell her the peeons is wise to her and to cut it out. Thank you very much.
Madly, Gladly Not Yours,
|Your Androgynous Name Is:|