The definition of the word "smarmy" = D.P. I don't want to say his name in this blog, but it's the husband of Stacey P., that missing woman in Illinois. That. Man. Is. SO. Not. Right. His laywer needs to nail-gun that dude's lips shut.
Kiefer Sutherland is in jail washing his own laundry. And other inmates' laundry :shudder:--am I supposed to care?
They let him finish filming "24" before they made him begin serving his sentence. I'm sure if *I* were arrested and convicted on a (multiple) DUI, they'd let me finish out the pay period at work, um, NOT.
Speaking of work, I survived my first week in the psych ward and have started week # 2. By noon today I had a massive headache (new job, new hours, new coworkers, no sleep...why not?) which I foolishly tried to relieve by driving to--of all places--Wal-Mart after work so Beth and I could be trounced and jostled by the Christmas mob. Not a smart move. Headache finally relieved by A. meds, and B. A double jalapeno bacon burger from Wendy's.
Best X-mas purchase so far: A furry white mechanical cat that looks exactly like Sheba, Grandma's long-gone kitty. It moves and meows. It meows a lot. It meowed at us all the way through the store, the whole (looooooong) time we stood in line, across the parking lot, and all the way home in the car. I nearly euthanised it by tossing it out the window but, well, it IS pretty cute in a disturbingly taxidermilogical kind of way--
Grandma will love it. Or else it'll send her over the edge.
Tomorrow is Nate's birthday! He hates having his pic taken, but since he never reads this blog (or so he says, right, Nate?) this is a pic I **sneakily** snapped of him last summer:
Now I've been up for 18 hours, so...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
No comments:
Post a Comment