Crapsicle

Iím supposed to be stuffing 401k information into envelopes right now.

Be jealous.

I donít much feel like doing that though, so instead Iím typing this.

I went to Target last night. Why all the prairie skirts? Just why? Do that many women really want to look like Little House on the Freakiní Prairie? I find that hard to believe.

Woof.

And screw you Laura Ingalls.

I still managed to spend $193 there, but under $200, so rock out.

I seem to have an uncontrollable compulsion to buy sweater sets. Maybe too many viewings of the Donna Reed show?

On Saturday, I was able to see some camels. Real ones, not the nicotine-filled type. Camels fascinate me almost, but not quite, as much as hamsters.

Other than that, not too much happened.

Siamese Cat ran out into the front yard, ate a pile of grass, then ran into the house to throw it up, unchewed. The award for Best Use of Lawn Trimmings as a Floor Covering (mixed media) goes to . . . Siamese Cat.

Orange Cat, hmmm. I have a 10 year old girl staying at my house. Orange Cat doesnít deal well with anyone under 5 feet tall, she has no frame of reference for that type of situation. Of course Orange Catís fluffiness enthralls children, so there was much hissing and growling and just some general rage.

Orange Cat can be a real crapsicle sometimes.

Fine, all the time.


2005-12-19 at 10:12 a.m.