I've Been Busy, and For Nothing. Nothing!
If you're like most people, you're probably wondering what I've done to prepare for the Democratic National Convention. First, I've ordered the help to steam the table linens and reorganize the decorative mallard hunting decoys that line the mantle and fill the basement to knee-level. Second, I've burnt two loaves of bread and set them aside for the poor. Third, I've fired live ammo at the tubercular fellow who repeatedly creeps into my lawn to commit random acts of kindness. Fourth, I've wished evil on at least four people from afar, though I would have done that anyway. Fifth, I've stumbled through the entire internet, only to find that a.) the Convention will be held in Boston, and not at my country estate, as per my agreement with Mrs. Kerry, and b.) dear, sweet Owain may or may not have gone through with his threat to lock himself in a cupboard with his laptop to discover how the self-trepanning procedure affects his blogging. Despite what you may have divined from his writings, he does more than pace the parapet at dusk, chattering in his hooded robe like a mad monk. He also teases chubby children through the megaphone built into his watermelon truck.
2 Comments:
dear esther: i think something is wrong with me. i have adopted another cat. had to save it from a life as a "wild farm cat," or as i prefer to call it, "a cat that will eventually be killed by a farming implement."
is it something genetic? is it my ticking biological clock?
sincerely,
supadupagirl
p.s. does it make you uncomfortable that owain is probably having masturbatory thoughts about you?
Supad, go get your Bratz notebook, because you're going to want to write these down: 1. Nobody farms anymore 2. Everything under the sun is genetic and nobody can be held accountable for anything, except in a court of law, where "experts" and "lawyers" "talk good lies" (because they are genetically inclined to do so.) 3. The ticking you hear is not your b. clock. What you're likely hearing are the bomblets that peta taped to the bottom of your dinner plates 4. Nothing about Owain makes me uncomfortable. When he had long hair, he told me it was a little itchy, and then I was uncomfortable FOR him, because itchy hair is a plague and an abomination.
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