(no subject)
I think bex77 was right about the wheelchair. Every time I've walked past the spot, it's been the same white car or the wheelchair.
Would anyone now care to make sense of the small plastic gorilla that Sarah discovered outside our apartment the other day? We're working on the Lost & Found notice for the poor guy, but until we get that up, he's just hanging out with our monthly chickens waiting to be explained. Anyone? Bueller?
Work has been causing me great stress lately, even going so far as to interfere with my Sunday afternoon and evening, but I am looking forward to being mildly social this weekend. Beyond that there's not much to report. I've been collecting tidbits of amusement, so the rest of this post is just going to be that detritus.
First, a slightly amusing anecdote from, oh, October. When Sarah and I were in DC we went to see Bodies: The Exhibition with my family. Afterwards we went out for dinner. I ordered a dish that I don't eat very often. However, for some odd reason, I had developed a craving. They were among the best barbecue ribs I've ever eaten.
Yeah, I'm not sure why she stays married to me either. But we did have fun trying to name all ten three-lettered parts in the human body. Can you come up with them all?
Also, can you find the intended bingo in this daily Scrabblegram? I got the link from a Washington Post online chat and it's been cracking me up for days. Because I'm twelve. Someone at Hasbro (not to mention the editors of whatever publication companies distributed this) has either a ginormous blind spot or an amazingly devious sense of humor.
Less hilarious, but still amusing, at least to me:
Mother of toddler at the grocery store: No. You do not need Cinderella Barbie Princess. You need...well, you need to be a strong woman and rescue yourself.
Teenage boy on train: A girl who doesn't know how to braid is like a boy who doesn't know how to play sports.
Friend of teenage boy: That ain't right, man. You mean a black girl who don't know how to braid.
Teenage boy: No, I mean all girls.
All righty then.
I leave you with this parting thought, which popped into my head as I was walking home from work recently: There are few things so undignified as a small, prissy-looking dog adorned with ribbons and ponytails, pooping.
Have a great weekend, everyone!
Would anyone now care to make sense of the small plastic gorilla that Sarah discovered outside our apartment the other day? We're working on the Lost & Found notice for the poor guy, but until we get that up, he's just hanging out with our monthly chickens waiting to be explained. Anyone? Bueller?
Work has been causing me great stress lately, even going so far as to interfere with my Sunday afternoon and evening, but I am looking forward to being mildly social this weekend. Beyond that there's not much to report. I've been collecting tidbits of amusement, so the rest of this post is just going to be that detritus.
First, a slightly amusing anecdote from, oh, October. When Sarah and I were in DC we went to see Bodies: The Exhibition with my family. Afterwards we went out for dinner. I ordered a dish that I don't eat very often. However, for some odd reason, I had developed a craving. They were among the best barbecue ribs I've ever eaten.
Yeah, I'm not sure why she stays married to me either. But we did have fun trying to name all ten three-lettered parts in the human body. Can you come up with them all?
Also, can you find the intended bingo in this daily Scrabblegram? I got the link from a Washington Post online chat and it's been cracking me up for days. Because I'm twelve. Someone at Hasbro (not to mention the editors of whatever publication companies distributed this) has either a ginormous blind spot or an amazingly devious sense of humor.
Less hilarious, but still amusing, at least to me:
Mother of toddler at the grocery store: No. You do not need Cinderella Barbie Princess. You need...well, you need to be a strong woman and rescue yourself.
Teenage boy on train: A girl who doesn't know how to braid is like a boy who doesn't know how to play sports.
Friend of teenage boy: That ain't right, man. You mean a black girl who don't know how to braid.
Teenage boy: No, I mean all girls.
All righty then.
I leave you with this parting thought, which popped into my head as I was walking home from work recently: There are few things so undignified as a small, prissy-looking dog adorned with ribbons and ponytails, pooping.
Have a great weekend, everyone!