If I'm lost I might be buried under zucchini: Random Tuesday Thoughts

randomtuesday

You might be new here. Are you new here? If so, we do this thing on Tuesdays where we all get together and have a few drinks and then we all start spitting out what's on our mind as randomly as possible. It's fun, and it only came to blows that one time. Want to play? Grab a button and get random!

Why the fuck do I plant zucchini? It's really only good for ONE thing - chocolate cake.

(Well, and maybe some questionable pervy uses.)

I planted two this year and they're making the most of life. I have...a LOT of zucchini. There's no way I can make or eat that much cake. I ended up giving a bunch to the octogenarian next door.

(No word on which of those two uses she wanted them for.)


I'm moving the blog some time this week. You shouldn't notice, unless of course you actually VISIT the site instead of reading it in a reader. Then it might look different. Also, there's actually a lot of potential for me fucking it up, so if you haven't heard from me by next Tuesday, send out the St. Bernards with casks of booze around their necks, okay?

Actually, just do that anyway. That would be hilarious. And might make my dog step up her game a little.

Yes, I will also re-design the fugly RTT button while I'm at it. Gawd, stop nagging me.

(It'll still be fugly. It's kind of my thing.)


I was downtown the other day and I came across this psychic who claimed to have a camera that takes pictures of the future. I was kind of skeptical, but then she showed me a photo of myself at 85.

The camera does not lie.
(from poorlydressed.com)

Do you ever see the mailman coming up your walk, and you get all excited because he's got a whole fistful of mail and some packages, and then when you rush out to check the mailbox you realize that only ONE envelope was for you? And it's a bill?

I fucking hate that.


I spent a lot of time this weekend dicking around with my blog when I should have been applying for jobs. You're allowed to smack me in the ear if I bitch about work this week.

(I'm still allowed to bitch about my dog, the weather, infertility, and the government. NOW GET OFF MY LAWN.)