"There's nothing quite like getting up and being confronted with the sight of one's enormous fluffy white cat wearing one's panties on one ear like some kind of Victoria's Secret eyepatch. It's like being smacked in the face with a universe-destroying rip in reality, where underwear, pirates, and Keith Richard's influence on Jack Sparrow meet in the form of a fluffball who apparently is possessed by the spirit of a late Sixties repressed British politician." [...]
Ya know, some mornings shit just gets weirder.
I was running a bit later than ususal so instead of obeying the posted 15 mph speed limit on our one-lane road, I went a bit faster, think 20 mph. There is no way I could beat Mr. MiniVan who drops down our road like a bowling ball down a well. No sir. He's the one married to Deer Lake Barbie in case you were wondering. She who must accesorize down to matching the color of the strings on her licensed Keds to her earrings, bangles and eye shadow. I shit you not.
This morning Mr. MiniVan didn't take the kidlets to the bus, Deer Lake Barbie did the honors. She tends to drive with the same reckless abandon but with sporadic applications of the brake. She also seems unaware of how to deal with an approaching vehicle on a one-lane road. All I could think of was the old SNL skit with Mr. Bill as her panic-striken, LiLo sunglassed face flashed into the ditch. I shook my head and kept on going.
At the bus stop the snarky teenaged male and I discussed just why Deer Lake Barbie was boomeranging back home as the bus hadn't gone when she pulled back in behind us. The bus pulled up, the bipedal midgets boarded and off I went. At the traffic circle, Deer Lake Barbie cut me off. Sort of stunned and not a bit amused, I watched as her perfectly coifed and made-up botoxed, spray-on tanned face and lipo'd ass slid out of her shiny new SUV (green of course to match hubby's van). She was wearing Birkenstocks, strategically worn jeans that probably cost more than my whole wardrobe and a faux chic shirt that read, "No one puts Baby in a corner." Angrily, she flung her tortoise shell sunglasses off of her face in a dramatic flourish to make even the Brit swoon in envy and upbraided my non-existant driving skills - leading with, "How dare you drive so fast and endanger my children!"
Which of course opened the door for my rapier wit. "Oh and you have room to talk? She who is married to the monumental asshat who catches fucking passing gear as he drives past my house every morning? Don't make me get out of this truck and shove your head back up your ass, Barbie." I did it, I snapped and called her Barbie to her face.
She looked confused and replied with voracious wit, "But my name is Laura..." I couldn't help it, I lost it. Laughing, I put my truck in reverse then drove around her stupid SUV. Pulling into the drive way my first thought was "She is such a blonde." The second was I need a Baby shirt. Only mine would have Baby Firefly lending more strength to that vapid saying.
Context melts in the sun. (f'locked QWP)
The bad news is, I take one day away from fandom and everything explodes.
God, I can't take you kids anywhere.
...Not that I believe anyone under 18 is reading this. Oh god. Please don't suspend me next.
Anyway, I don't think LJ is wrong in what they're doing; they have a legal responsibility that they're living up to, and there's no reason fandom shouldn't be included in that. But I also have to say, the way that fandom is pulling together right now? Makes me feel warm and squishy and part of a community I would like to hug.
...A community of consenting, unrelated people, above the age of majority in their respective territories.
Adam's ER Adventure, or: I Fought the Cat, and the Cat Won
So, anyway, last night. First of all, yes, we're all fine, as are our earthly belongings, but there is indeed a tale. Let me begin by saying that when the story of the aftermath begins after midnight and there is neither alcohol nor clubhopping involved, you know that no good will come of it. Click to read further...
Context is read for his close up, Mr. Romero.
DAD: Are they a couple now too? He bakes!
Then at the end when Sharpay runs back and jumps into Zeke's arms, the following exchange took place.
ME: He looks a little scared.
DAD: Well, his boyfriend's sister is jumping on him.
Sometimes my dad is sort of awesome.