The Thing that Impresses Me Most About America...
...is the way parents obey their children. (King Edward VIII)
From a childfree community, regarding Precious Moments figurines:
"Why would someone want kids in wedding atire on their invitations and as the topper on their wedding cakes? Why would I think it's adorable that a couple of five-year-olds are about to get married and fuck? This isn't CALCUTTA!"
...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Tater woke me up this morning with his wailing. He is worse than a baby sometimes. I let him in, put on my "baby sling", stuck his fat catass in it, and he immediately passed out. All that pestering really wore him out, spoiled little shit.
That's right, I practice Catwearing (hey- it's called babywearing, I can call my version whateva-the-fuck-I-want!). I have a sling and I wear my animals around the house in it and they love it and they love me. But everyone loves me. I bet everyone wishes I'd wear them around on my chest.
This Sunday is Easter, the day we celebrate Jesus dying and returning to Earth as a bunny who leaves goodie-filled eggs in our houses. Cadburry Eggs - now filled with the Holy Spirit. Mmmm!
I don't get people who just bite into Cadburry eggs. I suck a hole in the top and suck out all the "yolk" so I can stuff the whole chocolate shell into my face and eat it without anything else in the way. It takes two hours, but it's soooo good.
I may have to show my face at church on Sunday. I don't really mind, though, because - and I'm headed to Hell for this - I have two new dresses I haven't been able to wear anywhere, and this is my big chance. I'm so torn between them! I mean, they're both polka dotted, and both knee length, and I can wear backseam stockings with both of them...but one is navy blue, and one is brown!! CHOICES CHOICES GODDAMN! Ok, the navy blue one has no straps, and no real detail other than the dots, but it looks more sophisticated and cost alot more. The brown one has straps and boobie-area lace and some ribbon thing going on, but I suppose it looks more casual than the blue. *le sigh* Stressing over what to wear on my date with God, what a good time. If anyone wants to come to church with me, you'll be rewarded with some kind of food (either eating out or a huge at-home affair where I'll have no doubt cooked 1/3 of what's available so of course it's get-you-fat delicious) and you get to see me all dressed up. HOW COULD ANYONE SAY NO?!
I had an EMG yesterday, and let me just say...wow, that sucked! First of all, I had no support, no hand to hold and squeeze and break. It was just me and Dr. Hassan Kezzerwani, who wasn't a mean man at all, but didn't have the best bedside manner. I had on pajama shorts, but I think he forgot I wasn't in just panties, because he kept telling me "just a moment!" every time I had to get up and change tables or something so he could get out of the room and it was awkward. The first part of the test wasn't so bad, he just put black-person hair gel on my legs (nooo joke), stuck on some sensors, and hit various spots with a low-volt stun gun. Didn't hurt, but he could've given a better warning so it wasn't so surprising. He told me I was doing really well, and I said it didn't hurt, and that was because...appernetly...I have extensive nerve damage. So it should've hurt, but whateva whateva I feel what I want! I told him, "I though there would be needles!" This is where his bedside manner could use some work, as he told me with a hint of GLEE in his voice, "Oh - yes. There WILL be needles! You though you were going to get away without them, eh?!"
...well, yeah dude, I was hoping that the stun gun fun meant no needles.
So he tells me he'll only be needling one leg, for my sake. OH, THANK YOU SO MUCH MR. MAN!! So, he goes to the needle box and is rummaging around, SINGING the following little tune: "Oh, needles needles, I'm running out of needles! I need more neeeeedles!" WTF?! He found one, opened it up, and came back at me with
THAT is an EMG sensory needle. Yeah, we're not talking an injection syringe, here, kiddos. I wanted to die. The first stick hurt really, really bad - in my shin, about halfway between knee and ankle. He stuck the needle in, then made me push up on his hand with my foot. UGHGHGHGOHHHHHHHAWWWWOUCH. I bled. He stuck it three or four more places in my leg, which all hurt, but not as bad as the first. Then he stuck it in my back. Wow...suckage.
The kicker? Each time he removed the needle from one place and went to jam it into another, he said, " NEEEeeEEEEeeeEEEDLESSSSS!" in this voice, this horror-story-narrator-tinged-with-arabic voice. You've never experienced fear until you've had an EMG a la Hassan Kesserwani. He kept trying to talk to me, too, about being an English major..."Teach me something. Teach me! Who is your favorite poet?"...."Uhhh...*SHOCK* ahh! Charles *SHOCK!* ahh! Simic! *SHOCK!* AHH! Charles Simic! But I'm going to be a librarian! *SHOCK!* FUCK!" ..."Oh, yes, I'm building a library in my home."....
Great, dude. Great for you.
From a childfree community, regarding Precious Moments figurines:
"Why would someone want kids in wedding atire on their invitations and as the topper on their wedding cakes? Why would I think it's adorable that a couple of five-year-olds are about to get married and fuck? This isn't CALCUTTA!"
...AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Tater woke me up this morning with his wailing. He is worse than a baby sometimes. I let him in, put on my "baby sling", stuck his fat catass in it, and he immediately passed out. All that pestering really wore him out, spoiled little shit.
That's right, I practice Catwearing (hey- it's called babywearing, I can call my version whateva-the-fuck-I-want!). I have a sling and I wear my animals around the house in it and they love it and they love me. But everyone loves me. I bet everyone wishes I'd wear them around on my chest.
This Sunday is Easter, the day we celebrate Jesus dying and returning to Earth as a bunny who leaves goodie-filled eggs in our houses. Cadburry Eggs - now filled with the Holy Spirit. Mmmm!
I don't get people who just bite into Cadburry eggs. I suck a hole in the top and suck out all the "yolk" so I can stuff the whole chocolate shell into my face and eat it without anything else in the way. It takes two hours, but it's soooo good.
I may have to show my face at church on Sunday. I don't really mind, though, because - and I'm headed to Hell for this - I have two new dresses I haven't been able to wear anywhere, and this is my big chance. I'm so torn between them! I mean, they're both polka dotted, and both knee length, and I can wear backseam stockings with both of them...but one is navy blue, and one is brown!! CHOICES CHOICES GODDAMN! Ok, the navy blue one has no straps, and no real detail other than the dots, but it looks more sophisticated and cost alot more. The brown one has straps and boobie-area lace and some ribbon thing going on, but I suppose it looks more casual than the blue. *le sigh* Stressing over what to wear on my date with God, what a good time. If anyone wants to come to church with me, you'll be rewarded with some kind of food (either eating out or a huge at-home affair where I'll have no doubt cooked 1/3 of what's available so of course it's get-you-fat delicious) and you get to see me all dressed up. HOW COULD ANYONE SAY NO?!
I had an EMG yesterday, and let me just say...wow, that sucked! First of all, I had no support, no hand to hold and squeeze and break. It was just me and Dr. Hassan Kezzerwani, who wasn't a mean man at all, but didn't have the best bedside manner. I had on pajama shorts, but I think he forgot I wasn't in just panties, because he kept telling me "just a moment!" every time I had to get up and change tables or something so he could get out of the room and it was awkward. The first part of the test wasn't so bad, he just put black-person hair gel on my legs (nooo joke), stuck on some sensors, and hit various spots with a low-volt stun gun. Didn't hurt, but he could've given a better warning so it wasn't so surprising. He told me I was doing really well, and I said it didn't hurt, and that was because...appernetly...I have extensive nerve damage. So it should've hurt, but whateva whateva I feel what I want! I told him, "I though there would be needles!" This is where his bedside manner could use some work, as he told me with a hint of GLEE in his voice, "Oh - yes. There WILL be needles! You though you were going to get away without them, eh?!"
...well, yeah dude, I was hoping that the stun gun fun meant no needles.
So he tells me he'll only be needling one leg, for my sake. OH, THANK YOU SO MUCH MR. MAN!! So, he goes to the needle box and is rummaging around, SINGING the following little tune: "Oh, needles needles, I'm running out of needles! I need more neeeeedles!" WTF?! He found one, opened it up, and came back at me with
THAT is an EMG sensory needle. Yeah, we're not talking an injection syringe, here, kiddos. I wanted to die. The first stick hurt really, really bad - in my shin, about halfway between knee and ankle. He stuck the needle in, then made me push up on his hand with my foot. UGHGHGHGOHHHHHHHAWWWWOUCH. I bled. He stuck it three or four more places in my leg, which all hurt, but not as bad as the first. Then he stuck it in my back. Wow...suckage.
The kicker? Each time he removed the needle from one place and went to jam it into another, he said, " NEEEeeEEEEeeeEEEDLESSSSS!" in this voice, this horror-story-narrator-tinged-with-arabic voice. You've never experienced fear until you've had an EMG a la Hassan Kesserwani. He kept trying to talk to me, too, about being an English major..."Teach me something. Teach me! Who is your favorite poet?"...."Uhhh...*SHOCK* ahh! Charles *SHOCK!* ahh! Simic! *SHOCK!* AHH! Charles Simic! But I'm going to be a librarian! *SHOCK!* FUCK!" ..."Oh, yes, I'm building a library in my home."....
Great, dude. Great for you.