Friday, I was logging into my IM and saw a headline in the news portal that I misread as, “President Bush talks to his Genitals about Iraq.”
Heh. Heh. Heh. (and then Ewwwww…and then more Heh. Heh. Heh.)
I was in the middle of emailing my very own Aunty M when I read it, so I shared. She responded by telling me about a Real Sex episode on HBO about a talking penis. And her email has the distinction of being the first not-actually-spam email to be blocked by our new office filter.
I think she should win a prize. Perhaps a genitalia inspired finger puppet would be apropos? I’ll have to get shopping.
Hmmm…oddly enough, a quick Google for “Penis Finger Puppet” did not return any merchandise. And I thought you could find everything on the Interweb.
Ok. So, when you need a cosmic sign, where do you turn? I asked for one about a week ago, and have received several mini signs in the form of anecdotal encouragement from some smart wimmins/dear friends. And then I got this by way of my husband’s horoscope (he needed the sign too):
"When you get to the end of all the light you know and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: either you will be given something solid to stand on, or you will be taught how to fly."
~ Edward Teller
Thank you Rob Brezny. May light and fluffy blessings fall upon your head. MWAH.
This weekend we were parking lot camping/tailgating with some friends of ours. (GO VANDALS!) Sweetpea was having a ball discovering the joys of motor home life, but she failed to take into account the spatial issues that occur when your kitchen is also your living room is also your bedroom. (She walked into a table.) So she has a bruise that could maybe be categorized as a black eye. That girl was so TOUGH about the whole thing though. I mean, she yowled for about a minute, but then she was fine. Wouldn’t even let me put ice on it. And I was kinda proud of her for shaking it off – because I’m a huge wuss and I would still be crying about it today. Anyhoo…when we got to school this morning I was all, “Tell Miss Justine what happened,” so as to illustrate her tough girl-ness. And in typical Monday-morning-pretend-to-be-shy mode she said, “I went bonk on a table!” And then buried her head in my shoulder. At which point I realized that it sounded like I’d been having her rehearse that line. So I am fully anticipating the Child Protective Services people to be there when I pick her up in 15 minutes.
So if you don’t hear from me for a while…
P.S. If you know anyone looking for a wickedly funny and perhaps a little bit naughty Halloween T-shirt, you simply must send them to the Muffintucker site.