Welp, we survived the dangerous thunderstorms, with rotation and all, despite the freaking out of the local weather man. Seriously dude, calm down, you’re going to have yourself a coronary.
Remember the days, when you could have yourself a good storm, without a “full feature weatherman showcase” on tv, of where the storm is now? And don’t get me started on the storm-chaser van. Who doesn’t love the ‘broken-up-coverage’ of a guy driving down the road in a heavy storm, while broadcasting pictures of his windshield? Hey buddy, we can’t see squat, your windshield is covered with pouring rain. But thanks for the heads up. Now, can we get back to regular tv? Oh wait, it’s just about time for the weather. Crap!
We are now the proud owners of a brand new SUV. …Which we currently can’t drive because their bank is taking it’s sweet ass time getting proof of payment to our establishment, which we need to take to the DMV so we can get new plates. And if they don’t hurry, we will have to wait till Tuesday because, you know, long Memorial Day weekend, and God, don’t they know how many years we’ve been driving this crusty old mini-van?!
I really want to open the pool. Last year the pool was open in April. (Best. April. Ever.) ‘Last Year’ was my friend. ‘This Year’ is a liar, and a tease. ‘This Year’ keeps taunting us with 75, and then we get rain and cold weather. And ‘The Weatherman’ is no better. He doesn’t know what’s going on, yet he still keeps throwing out 70’s and sunny forecasts like they’re coupons for free candy, to a fat kid. I’m really starting to hate ‘This Year’ and ‘The Weatherman’. I long for ‘Last Year’ and the sunny passionate days we spent together. But, alas, ‘Last Year’ is gone forever. So now I plead with ‘This Year’ to change it’s ways… and do it soon! Cause if the world ends this Saturday, I’m gonna be pissed if I have to go without a suntan.
"I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell".
When the heat is on, we can’t go above 68 degrees but when the air conditioner is on we can’t go below 75. This is my thermometer hell. Anyways, totally wearing a jacket… and yes, I did just turn it up to 70, but you didn’t see me do it. Right?
Mourning doves mourn loudest in the morning, so they should be called morning mourning doves.
There’s a mosquito in my kitchen.
Even when you eat right, you can wake up with a headache… which is really a forehead ache, so why try to involve the rest of the head?
Our neighbor always has a large U-haul truck parked in front of his house. Exactly what kind of cargo are you shipping there buddy? In my mind, he works for the drug cartel, although he looks like a minister. Maybe he is shipping Bibles. Mass quantities of Bibles. Yeah, that must be it. If you need a Bible, hit me up, I think I know where I can find one for you cheap.
And finally, tree frogs are never in trees and Thursdays are weird… and noisy, and soggy, and achy, and possibly cheap. Will somebody come kill this mosquito?!
We went to a softball game. It was a beautiful evening. We won the first game, by the mercy rule. We were well into the second game, when along came the lightning. The ref, who looked like a man but was really a woman, (we will call her Pat) saw the lightning and stopped the game. We were down by 1 run, with one inning to play. And then the rain began. And so ‘Pat’ called the game, and we lost by forfeit. We lost to the Bat Rats. I don’t even know what to say next. The End.
The maple tree used to be my most favorite of all the trees. It’s big, huge, majestic, leaves… what’s not to love? Right Canada? And then I grew up and became a homeowner.
Now, with every passing year, I discover that the maple tree is not my friend. In fact, she’s kind of a bitch. Her spreading those little seeds all over my yard, propagating new seedlings in the midst of my beautiful, pristine grass. They’re everywhere! (More seedlings than John and Kate Gosselin could muster up after taking a double dose of fertility drugs.) And that would be great if we really needed all those damn little baby tree seedlings. Yes, that was fine in the era of Johnny Appleseed, when the planting of trees was dependent on Johnny ‘A’. and Mother Nature was needed to help. But NOW? Now we have stores thatsell us trees. We have Home Depots and Menards and…these fabulous things called nurseries where we can buy our trees like black market babies. So bug off, maple tree. And take your little seedlings with you.
If you need me I will be outside killing baby trees. See what you’ve done to me, maple tree? See what you’ve done?
The Boy has been home 2 1/2 days and, although I am SO happy to have him here, I am exhausted. I’ve been non-stop picking up after him. I’m cutting him some slack, because he lived with a couple of slobs, back at school, and he was the only one who ever did any of the cleaning. …But today that gravy train ends. Maid service coupon: “expired”.