I just feel so boring here lately. So whiny. So over-and-over-again-you've heard-it-all.
I should talk about politics. Let's see...
Herman Cain.
Are you kidding me?
Every other Republican supposedly running for president.
Are you kidding me?
I could discuss popular culture.
But I am still unsure of who the Kardashians are although I am fairly sure that one of them just demonstrated quite vividly why marriage between a man and a woman is sacred.
For a few weeks.
I could discuss (going back to Herman Cain) how every freaking manager I ever had while working in restaurants sexually harassed me except for the gay guy who only harassed the guy servers.
I could discuss my agoraphobia but we've certainly all heard about that before.
I could discuss how completely unsexy/unpretty/unattractive I feel lately but we've heard that before too. Really though, I've reached a new low.
I could discuss the thing I was thinking about last night which is the family-famous story of how when I was a little girl I stole something from a grocery store (I was so young I don't even remember what OR the incident) and my mother made me take it back in, whatever it was, and apologize to the manager and I wonder now if if that has anything to do with my agoraphobia but it probably doesn't. It's probably just why I've never shoplifted anything in my life.
I could talk about how relieved/guilty I feel when I see Christmas commercials on the TV or see Christmas decorations in the stores because I am NOT DOING CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR. Okay. A little guilty, mostly relieved, and then I feel guilty because I don't feel guilty as much as I feel relieved.
I could point out that the furniture polish and a rag have been sitting on the piano for two days now. Gathering dust.
I would like to point out that two years ago today this boy was born:
Waylon Grady Lunsford. And that on that day he and Owen were this tiny:
And that now they are BIG boys and I am wishing the happiest of happy birthdays to Waylon and to his mama and daddy who are my beloved Shayla and Billy.Two years, y'all.
Can you believe it? Can you especially believe, Shayla, that Waylon ever had trouble nursing? HahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaHA!
I could tell you that the new library is opening today but NOT UNTIL FOUR O'CLOCK THIS AFTERNOON AND WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT?
I could tell you that the train has gone by about fourteen times while I've been writing this.
I could tell you that Mr. Moon is going to be out of town for a few days to go pick up a car in South Florida and that I am going to be a wild, wild woman while he is gone. Wild as in Owen will be here most of today and tomorrow and so yes, I will be wildly trying to keep things out of his nose.
Oh, I could tell you all of these things and discuss every one of them but with the exception of it being Waylon's birthday, who would care?
Oh wait- here's some news: Ms. Mabel has feathers appearing again on her back. Moulting season is coming to an end and growing-in season is happening. Now if Elvis will just leave her alone she might look like a real chicken again.
And I do have other news but I am not at liberty to discuss it yet. Stayed tuned to his channel.
This news has nothing to do with Herman Cain OR sexual harassment. I promise you.
Okay. This wild woman needs to go get something done before she picks up Owen including going to the Costco where she hopes they are sampling salmon but probably will not be but will probably be sampling those nasty little frozen smoothie things instead. Or some sort of food-substitute nutritional bars. She needs to take a walk. She needs to wash her hair. She needs to shave her legs but she probably won't. Wild women don't need to shave their legs.
If their husbands are out of town.
Costco is like the Honey Badger. It don't give a shit. If you have a card.
Remember Honey Badger? Of course you do. He's nasty-ass. And if you haven't seen him, here he is. Yes, I've posted this before. So what? It's my blog?
I do not give a shit.
Better Honey Badger than Herman Cain.
In fact, that may be my new motto, my slogan.
BETTER HONEY BADGER THAN HERMAN CAIN!!!
Love...Ms. Moon
