Okay, I hate to be obsessed, but now Google Photos is making little stories from my pictures. Look at this nice one!
I know. I need to get over it. Every poor sap who comes to my desk has to look at the lastest thing Google is doing to my photos. Does this mean someone at Google has seen my boobs? Because remember when I sent my friend Charlie that boob picture?
In the meantime, what's new with you? I'm waiting to get in the shower till Ned goes, because he will be going on a business trip overnight and please do not murder me while he's gone. First you're gonna have to pry the fangs of Tallulah out you before you get to me.
"You know you're gonna have to clean the litter boxes tomorrow," Ned just said. Like we can't go ONE DAY without cleaning them. Whatever, Ned. I'll just send the dogs in there. Take care of THAT in a hurry. Almond Roca for everyone.
You know, I always assume it's Talu who'd protect me, but several times now, Edsel has kicked the ASS of dogs who charge at us on our walks. And could I once again let you know how much I enjoy you people who let your dogs off leash. "Oh, he's fine." That's great. My dogs will murder your free-range dog in cold blood, and I hope you're happy about it, because WE'RE ON A LEASH LIKE DECENT PEOPLE.
What if Ned's not going on a business trip at all, and he's meeting some floozy at a cheap motel tonight? And I'm over here all, Oh, have a good trip! I'm all slipping love notes in his bag and he's out getting syphilis. Rude.
Oooo, I have an idea. Let's all tell our worst someone-cheated-on-me-and-I-found-out-horrifically stories. Most of mine, no ALL of mine involve my old boyfriend Cardinal from high school. The best one was when he went out of town to work for a few weeks before we started our senior year, and when he came back he brought a girl with him.
"How is your hair on the top of my dresser?" asked Ned just now. He should really just accept that hair's gonna be everywhere. He said he found my hair on him AT THE GYM, which is not really possible but it happened, and at least part of me's at a gym.
"Sometimes when you're gone, I lie my head on your dresser," I called back.
He probably totally thinks I do. And still, he's gonna meet some two-bit blousy trollop for the next 24 hours. In my mind she's wearing huge orange hoop earrings. And spandex capris with heels. What should we name her? We just had a discussion at work the other day, Griff and I did, about what's the cheapest-sounding name. Griff thinks the name Jessica is sexy, and to me, Jessica wears wool sweaters from a fine department store and smells like Ivory soap.
I'd throw out some of my votes for cheapest-sounding name, but then I'll get the angry comments from everyone named Brandi.
I gotta go. I'm very much looking forward to a night alone here, not that I don't like Ned, but novelty. I loved living alone. I mean, as alone as you can be with 47 pets. Let me know your cheatin' heart stories and also your names for Ned's floozy.
I like how I say "floozy" and stampede to a photo of TinaDoris. Look who brought her already-thin self and Borbala Rut to work yesterday! It was bring-your-Borbala-to-work day. Yeah, of course TinaDoris had a cute baby. Have you observed TinaDoris?
Alone again, naturally,