The universe just shifted everything into alignment, or maybe it's the wine: Random Tuesday Thoughts

randomtuesday

Oh, it's Tuesday (yeah!), it's Tuesday (yeah yeah!), it's Tuesday baybeeeeeee!

(Trust me, it's AWESOME if you can hear the music)

Anyway, it IS Tuesday and you know what that means...time for Random Tuesday Thoughts! So grab the button, puke all your random brain bits into a post, and link up!

Notice how I bolded link up? That's because a couple of you (cough cough) haven't been, and then I don't know that you've done an RTT post until I get around to going through my reader like, FIVE DAYS LATER, and then I feel like an asshole for not stopping by earlier. You don't want me to feel like an asshole, do you?

You do?

Jerks. Well, just link up anyway. I'm going to continue to put it in bold until you remember. Link up, dammit.

Ahem.

I just went out to turn the sprinkler off and noticed that the neighbours have oh-so-subtly placed a large bucket of pinecones right next to our door. That makes no sense whatsoever, until you know that a) there is about an 8-foot gap between the houses, which is covered in rocks and is home to several pine trees, b) technically I'm responsible for said tract of land, because the property line is basically right smack up against the side of their house, c) obviously picking up pine cones is fairly far down on my list of priorities and d) they're in their 80s and their list looks a little different.

So, being that technically the local bylaws require structures to be at least 3 feet away from a property line, and that technically they're not in compliance, would it be awfully passive-aggressive of me to get hold of that information and leave a photocopy in their mailbox? With a pinecone? Sort of a not-very-subtle "I'll pick up my pine cones when you move your fucking house over 3 feet"?

Yeah, I thought so.

I can't find my glasses due to the Toddler Relocation Program, so I'm wearing my old ones. Which is saying something, since the ones I normally wear are 10 years old themselves. So I'm thinking, as I sit here contemplatively, with the wire from a missing nose pad stabbing me in the face,

For chrissakes, woman, go get some new fucking glasses already!

Why are there no men pimping their nudie webcams on Twitter? Is there an assumption at large that women don't like the pr0n?

I mean, not that I would follow them. Ahem.


Someone forwarded me an email with a recipe for a "five-minute chocolate cake" that you make in the microwave. How dangerous is that? Chocolate cake at your fingertips in five minutes flat? And they, personally, tried it and said it was amazing.

I now have an overwhelming urge to go buy a microwave.

That's right, I don't own a microwave. Our last one put on a spectacular light show before it died, but seeing as I didn't use it for much more than that, I didn't replace it. Real estate on the countertop is valuable in my house, people!


Our new bed arrived on schedule, in all it's memory foam goodness. Hubby texted me when it arrived. "Yay!" I replied, "Is it set up?" To which he texted, "Yes. If we fall out of it, we will die."

It's um, rather a lot taller than our old one. On the upside, nobody's fallen out of it yet.


FoN headed off today to spend two weeks at the cabin that she exploited her family to rent. I guess she gets cel service there, because she's sent a few texts. Mostly of the "It's beeeyoooootiful here, the lake is GORGEOUS, there are NO BUGS, did I mention it's beeeeyoooootiful?" variety.

Except the last one, which was "There's mice! Mice!!! Oh my god mice!".

Heh.


And on THAT fun note, time to join in the fun! Do your thing, people, make me (and Mr. Linky) proud!