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FUNNYBOOK BABYLON: Manstream!
Aug. 7th, 2007 10:02 pmFunnybook Babylon talks about Manstream! and me v. M1nx.
Love you guys!
See my comments at their blog for clarifications.
Love you guys!
See my comments at their blog for clarifications.
Aug. 7th, 2007
Do Not Call
Aug. 7th, 2007 11:17 pmReaders and lurkers who may be in contact with my family:
If you are asked to or feel the need to contact me on my parents', siblings, or other relatives' behalf, don't.
This does not apply to my husband or children.
This is not a request.
If you are asked to or feel the need to contact me on my parents', siblings, or other relatives' behalf, don't.
This does not apply to my husband or children.
This is not a request.
ATF: BBQ WTF
Aug. 7th, 2007 11:33 pmTonight was Night Out, which means block party barbeque.
I was ready not to go at all, and finally gave in so I could spend time with Summer. Singing with the family I will call the von Trapps was pretty fun, and I fell instantly in love with a visiting bulldog who was just the sweetest slobberpuppy ever.
Then, I found myself getting irritable and feeling antisocial. The eldest von Trapp was singing "Landslide" with her dad on guitar. The drunker people just kept talking like she wasn't there. The one table that'd kept to themselves did the same. And the fucking police manager dude and a female city rep were talking loudest of all. I kind of expect better from people who want to get re-elected. They acted like toads.
I think having someone sing for you is a gift. It's not background sound at a bar, it's not the radio. It's a real live person giving you their time and talent, and my neighbors and city officials were so disrespectful. The beat cops were fantastic and really took time to enjoy the song. I loves me them beat cops.
When she was done, the managers stepped in and talked about our reserve cops, which was good so we could give them a hand, but then they just kept on talking. Dad von Trapp was still strumming lightly, and I would've paid him cash money to hit the chorus and last bars of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" when they stopped talking. Except that every time they stopped they started again, and they'd been talking over our singer the whole time she sang already!
I was already crabby, then eight cop cars came back to present us an award, with all the lights all going. Smoke and burnt wood smell and red and blue lights. It was a bit much to take in when I am a month from hitting the echo of last year's fire.
The smoke smell got me first, and I didn't think about it. But with everything else, well.
I need to say that it is my love for my wee town that makes me so annoyed and disappointed. This is a fantastic place. For people to be so rude is actually an anomaly, but a fecking annoying one, and all the more remarkable for its usual absence.
It was good to come home then drive up the highway and under another for some Sonic iced tea.
ALL PLAY: what makes you feel like you've washed off someone else's mental grunge? A good book? A drive? A kitten?
I was ready not to go at all, and finally gave in so I could spend time with Summer. Singing with the family I will call the von Trapps was pretty fun, and I fell instantly in love with a visiting bulldog who was just the sweetest slobberpuppy ever.
Then, I found myself getting irritable and feeling antisocial. The eldest von Trapp was singing "Landslide" with her dad on guitar. The drunker people just kept talking like she wasn't there. The one table that'd kept to themselves did the same. And the fucking police manager dude and a female city rep were talking loudest of all. I kind of expect better from people who want to get re-elected. They acted like toads.
I think having someone sing for you is a gift. It's not background sound at a bar, it's not the radio. It's a real live person giving you their time and talent, and my neighbors and city officials were so disrespectful. The beat cops were fantastic and really took time to enjoy the song. I loves me them beat cops.
When she was done, the managers stepped in and talked about our reserve cops, which was good so we could give them a hand, but then they just kept on talking. Dad von Trapp was still strumming lightly, and I would've paid him cash money to hit the chorus and last bars of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" when they stopped talking. Except that every time they stopped they started again, and they'd been talking over our singer the whole time she sang already!
I was already crabby, then eight cop cars came back to present us an award, with all the lights all going. Smoke and burnt wood smell and red and blue lights. It was a bit much to take in when I am a month from hitting the echo of last year's fire.
The smoke smell got me first, and I didn't think about it. But with everything else, well.
I need to say that it is my love for my wee town that makes me so annoyed and disappointed. This is a fantastic place. For people to be so rude is actually an anomaly, but a fecking annoying one, and all the more remarkable for its usual absence.
It was good to come home then drive up the highway and under another for some Sonic iced tea.
ALL PLAY: what makes you feel like you've washed off someone else's mental grunge? A good book? A drive? A kitten?