stuck in my head. for days.

Dollhouses and all those miniature things? They creep me out. A lot.

Ah yes. I have just remembered why I don’t eat kiwifruit.

A duet, I suppose. Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart or something. Love is a serious business.

Um. It’s not my error.

Neeeeeed.

Argh. I’m so itchy.

Interesting

No, I don’t think Miss W’s troop should sell cookies solely so that I can stock up on Thin Mints. I have no idea what you’re talking about.

And those people are wrong.

Evidently I should move to Cardiff. I’d be OK with that if British food wasn’t awful and their health care system worse.

Why does my sweater smell weird? I hate it when I don’t smell like me.

This is beautiful.

Yes it is 11 degrees. Yes it does feel like -10. Yes I did send you on errands in this cold. You’ll survive.

Dear God. How can you eat food that smells like that??

I have to say that I don’t have a problem with funeral selfies. I’ve already said I want to bring back the memento mori and expand it to include full photographic service for funerals. It’s all about context. I’m happy I came across this post because I had just been thinking about context in relation to my own photos that I post online. I posted one recently of Miss W and me where we look like we’re having a grand time. In fact, for most of the day and immediately after that photo, she’d been in a fairly grumptastic mood. But you don’t know that when all I post is one happy photo. Without context, it’s ridiculously easy to create your own narrative.

I’m sorry I dumped out your coffee, lady. I truly am. It was an honest mistake. You can stop trying to make me feel bad about it now.

Just because the door didn’t say “keep out” doesn’t mean that common sense shouldn’t tell you that you do not belong here.

Hey guess what? It’s Michigan! It’s supposed to be snowing!

Everything just smells musty to me. I have no idea why. Maybe I have a fungus in my brain.

Oh for the love of – look. Die or find a new job. Either way I’ll be happy.

This is so cool!

Oh that’s where my Santa hat went.

Today just sucks. I need to just start over.

Oh wow. Yeah. That is just not what I am looking for right now.

This book is just not what I want to be reading right now. Ugh.

Why yes, I do know the difference between Castle Doctrine, Stand Your Ground, and Self Defense.

I still hate Seinfeld.

This is beautiful too.

Um. Now this is just a suggestion. But. The weather being what it is, and the road conditions being what they are … perhaps you should not be taking photos of the road and the weather and posting them to Facebook while YOU ARE DRIVING. Just puttin’ that out there for ya.

I hate it when the forecast says “frigid.”

Ack! It’s suddenly entirely too sunny!

I can’t slouch, dammit!

OK. Need a new one. That’s it. So half assed I can’t see spending my money there any longer.

Ah there. The sun is gone and the snow is falling again.

from a million miles away

It’s just not right.

Student artwork $20.00! I think I’ll pass, thanks.

“Tables and chair sets all marked down from $30.00 to $70.00” I’m not sure you really understand what the phrase “marked down” means.

Oh, Daniel Craig! Cut your hair!

I’m not bringing wine. Just so you know.

Damn. Boots are in order.

I need to get a wolf dog.

I need this too, right?

I tried to be a Girl in his tour of Spectral Motion. ~JenniferBot

I never win the boots.

I do not approve of dog earing pages in books.

I am very very cold right now. COld. ColD. CoLd. coLd. COLD!

That elf is creepy. Little Justin Timberlake is awesome.

I don’t think I could do that.

Radio maybe. Yeah. Radio. radio radio

listen to the voice of reason

No no no. It would be Scottish Whisky. Not Whiskey.

Russel Brand gives me the serious creeps. Which doesn’t have that much to do with this article. But maybe a little.

Connection lost. Connection lost. Connection lost. Connection lost. All. Damn. Day.

lolly lolly lolly get yer

I’m reading this now. This is not what I was reading earlier.

Can’t post if I can’t connect, WordPress. Get with the program. We have fans. Or something akin to fans. Admirers? Well. People who don’t think we suck.