Confession: I'm a bad blogger.
Someone should spank me . . . no, really, please . . . I'm in to that kind of thing. It's OK, though because my therapist doesn't think I'm much the worse for it so it's game on with a paddle.
I've been neglecting my blog and my blog pals for a month and I am truly sorry. Things have been busy: work, family, illness, not necessarily in that order. The other night I got fitfully crocked and hammered out some writing that I wanted to post, but I haven't had the guts to open it up and take a look at what sort of crazy talk I was spewing into the computer in the middle of the night, while soaked in red wine. I'll take a look and fix some typos and try to get it up soon so the blog goon squad carrying torches and pitch forks doesn't hunt me down to hurt me bad in a not so fun way.
Happy New Year, y'all!
Showing posts with label Crocked. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crocked. Show all posts
January 6, 2008
November 14, 2007
Slipping Into Madness. . .
This has been one of those days when I just want to quit. Freaking everything. I'm already fantasizing about the beautiful sleep I'll be getting on my Simmons Beautyrest Enchantment Plush Pillow Top. It is my new bed, it is my new buoy.
A bunch of stuff I set up at the office to get done so that everything would be on track upon my return were supremely fucked up by:
a) my analytical lab
b) FedEx
c) one of my drilling subcontractors
d) a property owner of a site I manage
e) the demanding God damned nature of my boss (Umm, Fresh, that project I gave you the middle of last week is not progressing as quickly as I'd like it to . . . Umm, I was out of town since then, Fucker!) . Lovely to have that off my chest.
As promised, a collection from the Great Tejas Adventure of November 2007.
Speaking of chest, remember how Miss M mentioned that hers was HUGE? Here's proof:
Sista is busty!
And as I'm sure you were all waiting to see . . . I'm coming out to you, my loves. I sang at the top of my lungs, and this is what it looked like:
I couldn't tell if the red-eye reducer made me more scary looking than the red eyes were to begin with.
And singing from the bottom of my lungs:
Yeah, Texas gives good sky.
A bunch of stuff I set up at the office to get done so that everything would be on track upon my return were supremely fucked up by:
a) my analytical lab
b) FedEx
c) one of my drilling subcontractors
d) a property owner of a site I manage
e) the demanding God damned nature of my boss (Umm, Fresh, that project I gave you the middle of last week is not progressing as quickly as I'd like it to . . . Umm, I was out of town since then, Fucker!) . Lovely to have that off my chest.
As promised, a collection from the Great Tejas Adventure of November 2007.
Speaking of chest, remember how Miss M mentioned that hers was HUGE? Here's proof:
Sista is busty!
And as I'm sure you were all waiting to see . . . I'm coming out to you, my loves. I sang at the top of my lungs, and this is what it looked like:
I couldn't tell if the red-eye reducer made me more scary looking than the red eyes were to begin with.
And singing from the bottom of my lungs:
The next day wasn't nearly as pretty. I'm sure you're surprised.
This guy was crocked too, and a totally fantastic dancer with an exceptional sense of style.
He also was on the barfing merry-go-round come morning. It was funny to watch. Especially since I wasn't the morning after barfing girl.
I'll finish with a little of what we gazed at on the drive home:
Yeah, Texas gives good sky.
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