Enter rambling

You know what I want for Christmas? One of those paper towel holders that you stand up on your counter.

^^^^^AMAZON LINK!^^^^^^

Several months ago, one of you said, Hey, June. Why don’t you become an Amazon Associate to earn more money? And so I did. I put up a permanent link to Amazon on my sidebar (See? See it? Are you looking at my side bar? [slap] Keep your eyes off my side bar. Perv).

And sometimes I’d throw in an Amazon image here in the post that, if you click on it, you get to Amazon, and say Amazon one more time.

And by the way, for some reason I can’t ever put a link to Amazon with words on it. Like, one of these…



THE POINT IS, I am forever forgetting to add links to Amazon in my posts.

  1. So, click these images
  2. You’ll get to Amazon.
  3. If you shop after you’ve clicked over,
  4. I get cash.
  5. Cold cash.
  6. Don’t you have Christmas shopping to do or whatever?

Forgetting to add Amazon links is why I don’t have money. I’m not ambitious enough.

And speaking of numbers, yesterday I was talking to a reader who said, “The number of comments you get don’t represent how many readers you get.”


Of COURSE it doesn’t. Did she really think that 50 people read me a day? That’s so sad. Also, I forget that not everyone works in social media the way I do.

Anyway, I told her how many readers I get normally, and then she looked at how many comments I get normally.

I rarely check how many comments I get. I just get emails from you when you comment and go, “Heh, yeah” or “HAHAHAHAHA” or “Oh, fuck YOU” or whatever. Anyway, she figured out it’s like one comment for every 35 or 52 readers or something.

It was maths. Reader, can you remember the exact ratio? Cause you know how I get with numbers. They come to me on gossamer wings and flitter out my head dusting rose-gold glitter.

IMG_1871.jpgNot-So-Faithful-Reader Ryan and I took a walk yesterday. “You’re too TALL to photograph,” I kvetched, so he came up with this dramatic scenario so I could fit him into the frame…

IMG_1872.jpgBelievable. Do you beLIEVE in life after love {after love after love}

I guess mostly what I did today was enter here rambling, and talking about Amazon and numbers and hooo care, then plunk you into the middle of my yesterday and not be linear at all.

I once took an African literature class, which is something you do in college when you’re all high on the gange, which actually I never was but roll with it, so to speak. Anyway, I read a story where this person wandered a village, and each hut had a number, and he’d visit Hut 4 then Hut 86 then Hut 3, and all the American people were all OH MY GOD VISIT IN ORDER.

Which was a thing we didn’t even NOTICE was bugging us till the professor pointed out we were being, I don’t know, not African or something.

So thank heavens at least 10 of my 50 readers are in Africa.

IMG_1860.jpgAnyway, Nervous Nellie and I visited the vet yesterday, where it turns out that even though I am spending $800 a month on flea meds, the fleas are resisting and now Eds, and most likely his cat backups, are having the fleas. Dammit.

And here’s what happened. Yesterday after said vet appointment, I got on Facebook and I was all Diagnosis: Fleas. And then I said the vet had to prescribe something.

This was followed by 939549323 comments with people telling me what flea medication to get.

“But I–”

“See, I already–”

“Yeah, I got–”

I give up.

I also, on Facebook, asked everyone to not IM me, and one person I don’t actually know in real life wrote, “Oh, but I IM you to show my eternal love” or whatever, and I wrote back and said, “Yeah. that’s great, but an unbalanced person contacted me that way, twice, and now every time my IM thing lights up, I get shaky and sick thinking she’s back.”

I understand, she wrote.

The very next day she sent an IM. No apology, no “I know you don’t want IMs,” nothing. And it was a goddamn animated thing about Christmas. Hey, unfriend.

I mean, I could not have expressed my needs and why I had them more clearly. Jesus.

IMG_1878IMG_1874IMG_1875Also, I stepped on Steely Dan last night. I didn’t MEAN to. I didn’t plan a night of STOMP at my house or anything. He was in the hall, and it was dark in the hall, and he is dark, and I know you have gotten the drift and wish I’d move on already.

I TRIPPED over him with one foot, then STOMPED terrecktly on his tail and oh, did he HISS and run off.

Did you ever chase after a cat you were just accidentally mean to? It’s so fruitless.

“I’M SORRY STEELY DAN! I LOVE YOU HONEY. MAMA’s SO SORRY!” He did not give one shit. It was not possible for him to have put his ears back any more fiercely.

As you can see, above, he forgave me enough to lurk on the fridge for breakfast. So. We’re working past it, with time and counseling.

How many photos of cats in that window ARE there, do you think?


Oh my god, Francis was SUCH a dick.


Anyway, I know I had other things to tell you, but I am Africa today, so I’m all over the place.  I have GOT to get my freelance work done this weekend, and I have a hundred pages to go, followed by spellchecking it and looking for consistencies throughout, which means I only have about 86 hours to go.

And no, I’m NOT being paid by the hour. I got a flat fee. This whole book was so stressful that instead of using the money I earn for something practical, I’m getting a kilo of weed, a willing lawn boy and Boston Market delivered to my door.

Can you even buy weed by the “kilo”? I should probably get into drugs briefly so these references remotely ring true.

IMG_1873.jpgI leave you with the following Gladys Kravitz news: My youngster neighbor is moving. Or else he’s a lesbian on his third date.

Not that I’m glued to my window like a shut-in or anything, but I noted his girlfriend left awhile back, and maybe he’s going wherever she went.

That’s the house where the lady would come home from third-shift nursing in the morning, with a paper bag of fast food, and I wanted to run over and tell her, “You’re moving more and more slowly, and it’s this fast food that’s killing you,” because as we all know, my food pyramid is banging.

Turns out, she was dying. She got diagnosed on Halloween, was dead by New Year’s day. She no longer felt hale and Hardee’s.

This is why I have bad luck.

So then this whippersnapper moved in a few years back, and I guess he’ll be selling the house, or god forbid renting it to his delinquent friends. But whatever happens, I hope that nice couch stays on the curb just forever. Total Joey and Chandler couch.

Okay, talk at you. I’ll try to write this weekend, as I will be isolating to get my work done and if I don’t somehow contact the outside world, I will get weird. Which you can see I’m far from.



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At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

75 thoughts on “Enter rambling”

  1. Oh yeah, no sense in chasing a cat after you’ve stomped on them. I yell an apology to the retreating blur and feed them treats later, when they finally come back out from hiding. I step on at least one of them every day, because they like to run in front of me while I’m walking and then stop dead. When they do that, they’re just asking for it!

    I’m glad that you figured out what’s “bugging” Edz (I am a delight!), and hopefully the new meds will work and kill them so he’s not so itchy. That sucks that the flea treatment you already paid a bizillion dollars for, doesn’t work on him.


  2. June!
    I read a post from October 2008. You were talking about how Marvin doesn’t want you to be warm, and you described how cold your house was. “Somebody just came by looking for their base camp.”
    Can’t stop giggling!! I’m totally stealing that line.


  3. I was confused for a moment, wondering how SD and Roger could be in the same photo. Then I remembered Anderson. And tiny Henry! I love all your pets, past and present.

    Does SD jump to the top of the refrigerator from the floor or from the counter? And does he knock magnets and photos off the door? Sassy used to knock magnets off the refrigerator door just to let me know it was time to be fed. She never did it when I wasn’t in the room. Smart cat.


  4. I stepped on my cat Maizie’s tail recently and she yowled and chomped down on my toe. I spent a small fortune at the clinic with x-rays and antibiotics and a special boot to wear as my foot swole up and turned red OVERNIGHT! It was horrific. Maizie was fine, she is just loud about everything that happens to her.

    Another time i was in my recliner chair and had a cat on my lap and was trying to get up and pushing the button to sit back upright in the chair and the cat started carrying on and I realized I had shut his tail into the closed footrest of the chair. It took another few minutes to open it back up again to get him free so that I could get up, for God’s sake. Damn cats get so huffy over every little thing.

    That hale and Hardee’s comment was pure genius, June!! Good job, Coot.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. There is so much to love about today’s post I can’t focus on any one thing. I do think a Christmas card with you and your animal family would be fantastic.

    Also too, we have empty houses on our street. One is behind us and the other is beside us. I cringe when I think of all the horrible neighbors this could entail.


    1. Right now, next door is empty (Peg’s), across the street is about to be (whippersnapper), kitty-corner is empty (dead Pollyanna). All that’s left is my neighbor Paul and the Republican across from Peg, fmr.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Paul? I thought he died. Or am I confused. Also, too. Is that the same Ryan that just passed you by when you were in a pool of blood in that horrible accident?


        1. There was an old man named Paul who lived a block or two down; he died at age 99. My next-door neighbor Paul is my age. And single. And I am 100% not interested. Which I guess is good, cause that woulda been a fun breakup.

          Liked by 1 person

  6. I feel like a bad reader here, but I can’t for the life of me remember who the cats are in the first window picture. Roger? Anderson Cooper? maybe? I immediately knew Winston, Henry and Francis, and Edsel, the non-cat, so if this were a graded test, I’d probably pass.
    Have a lovely weekend proofreading, June. You’re so pretty. (I commented to a friend on fb the other day that she was so pretty, and now I wonder if she thinks I’m some kind of perv.)


    1. The photo with the cattens are Roger Sterling and Anderson Cooper. I think that’s the first one of those photos! God forbid I go look.


  7. Jooon’s notblog: Come for the cat pictures, stay for the “hale and Hardee’s” comments.
    I found that WAY too funny.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Mutual hate society for the IM here. Today in my Facebook memories was a post I made several years ago kvetching about IM. I truly hate it, especially when people use it for groups and invites to parties. I have at various times just removed it from my phone.

    I think commenting can be awkward because:

    1. Sometimes the typed word doesn’t quite come across as you mean it to, therefore inviting others to attack or think you’re weird, or whatever.
    Z. Sometimes. I already see a comment stating what I would have commented so I just don’t comment again.
    14. The other clever commenters can make it seem like my own comment will be trivial.


    1. #1 is the main problem with comments because it’s difficult to add the intended inflection. I’ve seen other readers take offence to a comment someone posted that I took as completely innocuous. So I can understand the concern.


    2. Yeah, totally, that’s how I used to be and am sometimes. Most days someone has already said what I wanted to say, especially when referencing one of Joob’s zinger lines that makes you spit coffee on the unfortunate cat lounging on the keyboard . Some days when I’m busy I just tell Joob her coot is lovely, I mean she’s so pretty, I wouldn’t know about her coot, I mean cooch, other than what she shares here, which come to think of it, is quite a bit. No comment is trivial though. When I first started commenting I pooped my pants each time I clicked submit and I am not a good proofer so I always knew I had spelling and punctuation issues but no one ever called me on them. Am still in therapy though, when June told me I am not allowed to say Cincy for Cincinnati on here. And commenter Peter was called a fucktard or something like that from June one time. If you’ve been ribbed on here by Jooooooooon or other commenters, that’s a good thing. I think.


  9. The one picture looks like SD is banging his head on the pot and Iris is laughing at him.

    Ryan’s balance kills me. Once upon a time when I was younger, I also had good balance. Now, I’d be all, “June, quick take the picture before my leg wobbles!” Maybe I should practice my balance or not.

    Amish, why so shy? You really ought to comment every now and then.


  10. I work in IT. We have two levels of support. They are to handle all incoming requests/issues and if it can’t be solved by them then it branches out to the different departments (networking, client services, infrastructure, etc.) based on the issue. And all of our end users are supposed to either email or call support, so it starts with level one. I cannot tell you how many times I get a phone call or email saying “I know I’m supposed to go to support, but I thought I’d just ask you directly…” and oh my god I get enraged. They don’t realize they aren’t an exception, and that they aren’t the only one doing this and I can’t do my fekking job if everybody is just coming directly to me with everything.

    Which is why I would never IM you.


    1. Its like when you had high school parties and you block off the upstairs and you find people up there and they are like, I know you don’t want people up here, but I’m your friend. Hello, I don’t want anyone up there!

      Liked by 1 person

  11. I can so relate to the feeling of guilt after accidentally hurting a furry friend. (Note that I did not say furbaby!). Once I was working at my craft desk whilst sitting on a chair with rollers and started to roll backwards. There was a horrible screech and my cat, Larri, flew out of the room. I had no idea of what had happened but I tried to catch her and failed. She was *gone*. It was several hours before she, with great caution, allowed me to see her and later to touch her. The next day, when I went back to my craft desk, I saw on the floor by my chair, the one on casters, a wad of cat hair. Folks, I had rolled over the edge of her tail while she was snuggled by me to keep me company! The chair pulled out a clump of hair! No wonder she wailed! And yes, I found the corresponding bare spot on her tail. I felt so guilty. Maybe some day I’ll tell you how she got that name. Love the family photos on the ledge…especially the one of Edz.


  12. That stare SD is giving from on top of the fridge! Sometimes I really wonder what the animalses want to say. And how much profanity would be in what they ….want to say.


  13. June, clearly you didn’t mean ME when you asked people to NOT IM you!

    Also, I didn’t read your blog for a week so can you please just tell me what I’ve missed?

    And how does the Curly Girl method work?

    I bless the rains down in Africa!

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Those “cat window” photos ate adorable. Of course SD creates a new trendy “cat space on top of the nearest cliff/refrigerator.


  15. You know, it has never occurred to me to IM you since I don’t know you in real life. That seems kind of invasive to me. If for some reason I needed to contact you outside of your not-blog I would email you, I think. I feel like that would be the proper thing to do.


      1. I have email PTSD, after one too many passive aggressive emails from neighbors about earthshaking issues such as someone parking in their spot while they are away in Florida, so I actually prefer IM. Sometimes someone will say to me, “But I sent you an email! Didn’t you see it?” and I say, “I don’t read email” and enjoy the shocked look on their faces. I’m serious, I can’t handle email anymore. I literally have an ulcer from these people.

        I do mean literally, June! Great for weight loss, though, I must say…

        Liked by 1 person

  16. OH! I know what I meant to say! I was talking to a friend about my asshole neighbor and after about 11 examples of his assholery she said “you know, if you’d stop watching the guy out your window you’d be a lot less bugged”.

    So-called friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. I’m so glad I sent you that photo of Frida via e-mail, though I’m sure that’s a whole ‘nother ding. Look at me, NOT on your shit list. Yet.

    I love all the animalses in the window. Can’t somebody Photoshop the dead ones in with the live ones and THERE’s your Christmas card. With antlers. Or halos.

    The beauty of your posts is the wonderful randomness. My brain works the same way.

    And did y’all see the Jeopardy category last night? “Love Songs, Nothing But 80s Love Songs”. You had to name the artist. I sucked, but I thought that Joon would know them all!

    Lovely post, Flea Circus Wrangler


  18. So I basically took your average hits (unique visitors, whatevah) and divided by the average comment count.

    On a regular day, the ratio is 31:1. For every 1 commenter, there are 31 lurkers/non-commenters.

    On a dra8/*999999999999999999<<<<<<<<<<okay my cat just did that, let me start again… On a day that something dramatic happens when the comment count stays about the same but your hits double, that ratio bumps up to 62:1…62 lurkers/non-commenters for every 1 commenter, because people still don't comment on certain drama days but they tell other people to read.

    On a day that something dramatic happens when readers/lurkers who do not comment or do not comment much actually REALLY do comment, that ratio drops to 28:1.

    In a nutshell, on average, there are 40 readers to every one commenter. Which makes me curious CAUSE IT WOULD BE SO COOL TO HEAR FROM MORE FOLKS IN THE COMMENTS!! Heck, it took me a year to get up the courage to comment and now years later, you can't shut me up.

    This very scientific analysis was done by your pal, AA who is not a mathematician but plays one in the comments of Joob's blog. I work with cars not numbers, so we'll leave a teensy weensy tiny little bit of room for error here.

    Also, OF COURSE I know more people read you than comment!!! I was just kind of shocked at the hits vs. who we hear from.

    Be like AA, get up the nerve to comment once, just once, see that nobody says anything and it's all cool and then get up the nerve to comment again the next day and then don't ever shut up. Well, you know what I mean.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. I’ve never known why people are scared to comment. I mean, what do they think is gonna happen? Except for that one time my mother got on and yelled at that one woman. Or that other time when someone commented for the first time and I stampeded to a joke about her having sex with her grandmother.

      Okay, maybe it’s becoming clearer to me why people don’t comment.

      But the whole “everyone else is so clever” thing. Hooo care? Besides, not everyone is clever. Look at Anita.

      Oh my god, I just embraced myself over that.

      Liked by 1 person

  19. For some unknown reason when I read your posts on my phone the photos don’t appear, so I have to crank up the ole laptop to see all the photos. The one of Edz in the window cracked me up! I love all the photos of your cats and cats, fmr. I had to go back and look a second time for the sofa, it just seemed to blend in with the landscape. This was a very funny post.


    1. Tee, when I read it from my email the pictures don’t show, but if I go to Facebook, then everything is there. Don’t ask me why.


  20. I don’t even know how to begin. So much going on here.

    I got a weird IM on the Face right after you posted that “don’t IM me on the Face” command and I was like “OH GREAT. Now they’re all going to IM me instead!” The message was “what street do you live on so I can approve you for our HooDeeHoo Neighborhood Facebook page”. I was like “woman. I don’t even know who you are, but if you’re planning to tell me my husband wants to date you, back right off”. She said “oh I’m sorry – you were recommended for our page by blahblah”. Ooooohhhhh… right. That’s my brother. haha! So sorry!

    I have that same paper towel holder! It is one of My Favorite Things. Because I’m like Oprah and everyone cares.

    Lovely post lovely Coot!


    1. I should totally do a June’s Favorite Things post for Christmas. Because everyone similarly cares. Of course, we all know it will just be “willing lawn boys and Boston Market,” so.


    2. Cheryl! They have click towel holders?!? I am so guilty of grabbing the end towel and RIPPING it…..and ending up with 50 towels.

      You don’t even know how happy that news made me. I have a boring life.


  21. I got my paper towel dispenser from IKEA and it is great! Make sure you get one that clicks (I guess it is some kind of controlled release mechanism) so a bazillion paper towels don’t come off each time you grab them.The couch reminds me of the chair Penny got from the curb on Big Bang Theory with the creature inside. Fun post for a Friday!


  22. Annnnd I have that exact paper towel holder. The picture of Edsel in the window made me laugh out loud, or lol. He looks terrified, though. Have a lovely day, lovely Joon.


  23. I didn’t have paper towels until I got married. Husband grew up using them for everything (microwave protectors!). I grew up with ten gazillion pets (regular producers of vomit and other biohazards) and no paper towels. I had no idea man.

    All those years trying to save the environment one vomit encrusted cloth towel at a time….

    We still use mostly cloth towels (cause when Asheville is beach front property I want to be able to say “I told you so!”) but when the hnnnug hnnnug sound starts, I love me my stand-up hands-free paper towel dispenser with paper towels.

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Nervous Nelly! Snort. Poor SD, next thing you know DFCS will be knocking at your door, because he told the other family you were abusive.


  25. I have a similar erect (tee hee, I’m twelve) paper towel holder and I love it. I can carry it with me TO the spill / bio hazard / drip / etc. HIGHLY RECOMMEND.


  26. Eds on the windowsill! I howled! I kravitz out my kitchen window all the time. I was watching the lighthouse lights out of my best friend’s bedroom window in Cape May. She said, “You do that a lot, don’t you?” I asked, “Why?” She said, “You look way too comfortable”. She is trying to drag my way too comfy kravitzing fat ass back in to the real world.


          1. Slang for all of the animals in the window…being Edsel is gay and the rest might be obvious. How you send photo Christmas cards of all of your family.
            The Gardens family wishes you a wonderful Holiday season and they are all in the same place.


            1. I have, in fact, always dearly wanted an Xmas card with all the animals and me in one place. Maybe I could mount and stuff all the dead ones, and do it that way.

              Liked by 1 person

    1. Lovely post, Joooon! Just for future reference, weed is sold by the gram, 1/8 oz, 1/4 oz, 1/2 oz, etc. Or so I’ve heard. I just want your posts about weed to sound authentic. So.


      1. Back in high school, you’d buy a nickel or dime bag of weed. No, I don’t know what the actual weights of those were/are. Coke was by the 1/4 gram, 1/2 gram, full gram or if you were really flush with the funds, you’d buy an 8-ball and PAR-TAY and everyone wanted to be your friend and it would take a few days to recover from the coke hangover.

        Or so I’ve heard.


    2. Hey guys, Don’t forget when Christmas shopping on Amazon to go through June’s link so we can make her a bazillionaire or at least more wealthy.


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