And of Course a Cake, I Guess.

I thought I'd share a few tidbits I found from our local small-town paper. Just so you know, I am not making this up. I really, really wish I was. Everything is exactly as it was printed in the paper - punctuation, or lack of, included.

Tidbit #1 - Bob and Joan Grigg attended a homecoming at Boxley Church Sunday. There was a very good singing and eating. Saturday, they cut wood, so they wouldn't get cold this winter.

Tidbit#2 - Leo and Carolyn Bowen went to Harrison shopping Saturday. They ate breakfast at Shoney's. On Sunday, they helped Bethaney Hawthorn celebrate her 12th birthday with a family dinner and of course a cake I guess.

Tidbit #3 - The Kingston First Responders have had two calls this week. The fire department had one false alarm call.

Well, what can I say? Welcome to 1893, and may the day when I can flee this place come quickly.

Every morning I stop at the same convenience store. There's a chick who works there and I'm guessing she's in her mid to late 20s, and every morning she's wearing a tiara. That's right. A tiara. A sparkly, rhinestone tiara. Now, if she was the type who was fun-loving and happy, and was a general goofball, then I might be able to understand why she's sporting a tiara while turning on gas pumps. However, I've never seen this woman smile. Ever. Not even a slight smile. Not a fake smile. Not even a smirk. I think it's physically impossible for the corners of her mouth to move north. She's not the type to wear a tiara in a jocular manner and pull it off. I've racked my feeble brain trying to figure out why the hell she feels possessed to wear a sparkly, rhinestone tiara, and I can only come to one conclusion.

She's mentally disturbed.

I know what you're thinking. You're wondering why I just don't ask her why she wears it. But, not only does she walk around as though she's awakened every morning by rabid, howler monkeys, she's also twice my size. And, I'm a weenie when it comes to large women hurting me.

Speaking of large women, Thomas has a new cell phone. I'm pretty sure he really, really likes it because tonight he described it as, "that tiny fuckin' piece of fuckin' shit crap". And I think that phrase just screams love. The reason he adores his phone so much is that it's tiny, and his hands aren't. So, he has trouble pushing the buttons. I think it's rather amusing to watch. Sadly, he doesn't share in my amusement. And, in case you're wondering...it is true what they say about men who have large hands. He really does have a hard time finding gloves that fit.

Did you see that, Sweetie? I somewhat alluded to your penis without just coming out and saying, "my husband's penis". And, from what I remember about the penis rules, I am allowed to allude to it, so you shouldn't get all wild-eyed about it. By the way, here is his wild-eyed look

Lest anyone think I really married a psycho, here's a picture when he's not flashing the crazy eyes.

I however, look frightened with a touch of nausea.



Take Care,
The Bablatrice - who hasn't been photogenic since she was 4.