Well, that was fun... really.

I got up around 4am, or so.
This cold is now migrating to my chest/lungs.
But, it also still has a hold on my nose, so right now breathing is kinda dicey.

I come down here after George has gotten up and he's watching, of all things... The Birdcage.

I looked appropriately stunned and gestured from him to the TV a coupla times and he said he just turned on what was already in there.

I didn't put it in.
Sr. didn't either.
So, that must mean that Jr. did it.
Jr. likes my movies.
Wow.

Pretty cool.

(Now for the fun part...)
When Sr. came in for breakfast... I actually made him breakfast.

Bacon, eggs and toast, a cuppa hot coffee...

Usually he just has oatmeal or whatever he has time for.

Today, I went all Donna Reed on his ass, just because I could.

Well... Donna Reed dressed like a biker's old lady, maybe...
Ain't no dress or pearls to be found here, thanks.

I don't know what I feel like doing... except kicking whomever's ass gave Jr. this cold to once AGAIN pass on to me.
This makes two colds from him in about three months.
That boy needs to quit breathin' on me.

Hope this one doesn't hang on (and on and on) like the last one did.
Good Gawd.

Think I'll just straighten up the house and see if I do my nails today.

Meanwhile...

Queen Elizabeth is a total bitch.

I've just re-read (again) the book, "The Day Diana Died" and the Queen does NOT come out looking too good.
In fact, she comes off looking like a stupid, jealous, heartless, senseless cuntbag, the way she acted after Diana died.
Whatta fuckin' jerk.

And, I used to really like Charles.
Til he married that ugly yeti, Camilla.

I still do like Fergie and I'd kidnap Prince Andrew, he's so gorgeous, if I could.

I don't know what I'd do if I ever was in a position to meet these people, though.

I sure as FUCK wouldn't be all grovelling and curtsey-ing and differential to 'em, I know that much.
The only two I resepct enough to even do that are Fergie and Andrew and they're the two least likely to even want that and the Queen?
I'd spit at her, she's such a bitch.
And, Charles, I'd tell him to try a Western saddle someday and maybe he'd quit falling off horses so often and I'd have to ask what Camilla had on him that he married her Fido-lookin' ass, I swear.

Anyway...
I oughta go do something useful.
But, I've already done Gut Rumbles and everything else pales by comparison...
(as does my enthusiasm for the other tasks, whatever they may be).

Endless housework or tedious nailwork.

What a choice...
*laff*

I'll be back later.

Y'all take care.

Peace

Posted by: Stevie at 10:06 AM

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