Thursday, March 3, 2011

Updates on my Glamorous Life

Greetings from the Home of Sickness and Infection.  I have been a bit under the weather.  This week has been a blur of ibuprofin, cough medicine, and some bonus codeine, so I’ve gotten a little behind on the blog.  I feel I owe some updates.

Mr. Mackey from South Park - giant
head & tiny glasses.
Picture him with a mustache, cowboy boots,
and a wallet chained to his jeans
and you'll know what
The Redneck looks like.
  1. I spoke with my brother, the Redneck, who assures me that he is no longer wearing Mr. Potato Head glasses that are too small for his ginormous noggin.  In my last post, I expressed my concern that the rims of his glasses might be hanging on for dear life lest they snap from overextension.  Apparently he is now wearing contacts because his glasses were . . . ahem . . . “getting too tight.” My response, naturally, was “are you sure your head wasn’t getting bigger?” 
  2. Regarding my boyfriend, Frank, the CraigsList scammer . . . I reported him to the Federal Trade Commission and the “authorities” at CraigsList, but unfortunately I had already deposited the rubber check into my bank account.  I called my bank immediately and notified them that I was pretty sure I had deposited a fraudulent check.  Meanwhile, Frank keeps emailing me and asking me, in what I can only refer to as an English Teacher’s Nightmare, “why are you keeping me so late this way? what happen to you? i need to hear from you asap.”  Here’s an idear Frank.  Get yourself a fraudulent check and, quick like cat, find someone to teach you about grammar and mechanics.
  3. If anyone needs a perfectly lovely chandelier, I seem to have some extras

We’ve had a rough winter, considering we’ve had broken bones, allergic reactions, a stomach bug (which was really more like a stomach tornado that ripped through our home, destroyed our dignity, and left in its wake a huge pile o’ laundry that needed to be sterilized and/or burned,) the flu, (even though we ALL had flu shots,) an ear infection, and now bronchitis and strep.  Hubby says I need to stop advertising that our home is a cesspool of germs.  Um, hello, how am I gonna get my well-deserved sympathy and attention if I don’t tell people they should feel sorry for me?  I swear, sometimes it’s like he doesn’t know me at all.

In other news, my SIL, BooBoo, and I are headed to Miami for a girls' weekend.  Coincidentally, South Beach is the chosen locale for the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force Winter Party Festival, AND, if Hubby and his brother are to be believed, a "Midget Convention."  I have doubts about the validity of the latter, (and I'm pretty sure the term is Little People.)  Rest assured, however.  IF we have the pleasure of experiencing both a Gay and Lesbian Dance Party and a Midget Convention, or perhaps even Gay and Lesbian Midgets, I will be sure to write about it here upon my return.  Stay tuned . . . 

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