Walk a mile in these eschews.
My daughter insists upon spending a statistically significant portion of her day lounging around the entry to the catbox. She cannot be deterred; it's starting to worry me.
I'm betting the reason she loiters there is because my computer desk is right next to the 'kitty potty' and the reason for that is--well, I live in half a shoebox.
My husband's in the military, and contrary to popular belief he is incredibly underpaid for a mindblowingly stressful and lifethreatening job. Personally, I am of the opinion that someone who takes a hit for the country should get a little more than a purple dangly to pin on their chests--what say how about a million bucks? Even a ten dollar "I'm sorry for the shrapnel" gift would have been appreciated. In reality, however, we're living in half of a duplex in Texas, where everything is bigger including your electric bill. I thought I'd seen it bad in Arizona during the summer or the couple winters we lived in Colorado, but I was wrong. Over the summer we shared a modest house with some friends and our half of the electric bill was more than I ever paid living in a pretty big house in Arizona. Phooey. When we left that living situation, we found a tiny duplex in a tiny suburb-of-a-suburb and tried to think cool thoughts all through September. We were unsuccessful.
I'm considering eschewing all this blogospheric effort in favor of making one of those beg-a-thon websites, like the one that lady made where she snookered everyone else into paying off her credit card debt. Mine would be called IAMPATHETIC.COM and I would plaster it with .jpgs of those big-eyed children from the seventies. I would use covert guilt-mongering tactics to summon money from people's checking accounts, and then maybe I could afford to rent a whole shoebox...
...or maybe even a pair of Manolos.
I'm betting the reason she loiters there is because my computer desk is right next to the 'kitty potty' and the reason for that is--well, I live in half a shoebox.
My husband's in the military, and contrary to popular belief he is incredibly underpaid for a mindblowingly stressful and lifethreatening job. Personally, I am of the opinion that someone who takes a hit for the country should get a little more than a purple dangly to pin on their chests--what say how about a million bucks? Even a ten dollar "I'm sorry for the shrapnel" gift would have been appreciated. In reality, however, we're living in half of a duplex in Texas, where everything is bigger including your electric bill. I thought I'd seen it bad in Arizona during the summer or the couple winters we lived in Colorado, but I was wrong. Over the summer we shared a modest house with some friends and our half of the electric bill was more than I ever paid living in a pretty big house in Arizona. Phooey. When we left that living situation, we found a tiny duplex in a tiny suburb-of-a-suburb and tried to think cool thoughts all through September. We were unsuccessful.
I'm considering eschewing all this blogospheric effort in favor of making one of those beg-a-thon websites, like the one that lady made where she snookered everyone else into paying off her credit card debt. Mine would be called IAMPATHETIC.COM and I would plaster it with .jpgs of those big-eyed children from the seventies. I would use covert guilt-mongering tactics to summon money from people's checking accounts, and then maybe I could afford to rent a whole shoebox...
...or maybe even a pair of Manolos.
posted by weaktoast at 8:58 AM
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