Bad Luck Pussy - Shit Happens
Bad Luck Pussy - Sometimes... Shit Happens


Old Turds
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110381217531549900 12/23/2004 06:23:16 AM
My baby boy slept with me last night. He is such a warm solid loaf in the bed, it's like stability and warmth in cat form.

My pasta didn't reheat so well, but no matter, there was so much food no one would have had much of it anyways, even if it had been fabulous. Everyone had a bit, which was nice, nobody wants to be the bringer of the thing that doesn't get touched at a potluck. It's always kind of sad to see that, because invariably they are all fucking excited by their bizarre looking concoction, and the fact that noone is enjoying any is pitiful.

This is my second Christmas where I am not working retail. I can actually breathe and not go bonkers and not feel stressed or worn out or tired of all the hullabaloo. I still think people have lost their minds and are behaving like lunatics, but at least their behaviour is not directed at me for 8 hours a day.

110372655742279661 12/22/2004 06:32:38 AM
We're having a potluck dinner at work today and I made a pulled chicken prima vera. I hope it reheats well and all. I had this dream last night that our outside cats were busting into the house. There are two cats who lurk around our yard that we feed almost daily, there used to be more, but one of them got pregnant and became very territorial, needless to say the number dropped significantly. That made me sad because I miss some of those guys, but seeing as this is probably prime real estate, I understand why she is so posessive over it. But in my dream they were all there, Grey Softie, Sneakers, Tennesee Tuxedo, Chub, Fluffy, Smudge and some new guys I had never seen before, shoving on the door trying to squeeze their way in. My two cats on the other hand were trying to squeeze and worm their way out, and I was fighting determined cats to keep the status quo. At some point a cockatiel got involved in the ambush, the door gave out and creatures started spilling in... it was chaos. I don't think I'll be eating my breakfast... the creme cheese on these bagels tastes beyond funky.

On another note 7 years and I still adore my husband. He is such a sweet little thing. I can't wait to give him his gift, because it is (I think and Hope?) so out there and thoughtful and just for him in every way...

110367794405631467 12/21/2004 04:59:24 PM
Afternooons off on the government's dime are oodles of fun. I went shopping and got a scanner for pappy's Xmas gift. He wanted scans or copies of old timey photos because all of his were destroyed in a flood. It was much cheaper to just buy a scanner, than it would have been to use those Kodak photo copier things they have at Wal-Mart, so we are one piece of crap richer and $113.54 poorer.

We took the little one to see Santa Claus. Luckily for us they always have the same one at our nearest mall. He is wonderful. His hair and beard are real, he is soft spoken and has a belly that rivals the jolliest of men. I am guessing he is on a disability or old timer's pension, because he always came into Shopper's when I worked there, and bought medication and little household items... not much else. Nobody really shopped there for household items unless they lived in the subsidized housing complex next door.

I have a gingerbread house making kit I bought... too lazy to bake the cookie dough and cut out the house shapes, but too excited not to bother... it's going to be so fun! Three more sleeps until Santa comes, have you been good? I haven't... I am such a little buttcrack sometimes. I'll be lucky if I don't get a turd in my stocking!

110363924128460164 12/21/2004 06:24:27 AM
There is something about the silence and blackness and cold of the wee hours of the morning that feels much how I imagine death to be.

110360786759680468 12/20/2004 09:35:27 PM
Anyone looking for my wallpaper and or adoptions they will be back up soon... so expect maybe May? Seriously though, this is barebones for now, because I have serious time limitations. Not I am 14 in highschool and my mom makes me go to violin lessons busy, but really busy. Combine that with inherant laziness and you have a peach of a paradox.

Christmas is soon and the yard is all a glow. Our big plastic nutcracker, snowman and santa claus are drunk most evenings, laying around wallowing in their own degernate stupor. We probably have the most festively ghetto yard on the street, which is an accomplishment considering... I think at this point if we could have the disabled shit box in the back yard up front, maybe on blocks, with some big wood cut out reindeer antlers or half functioning X-Mas lights on the hood, it would be perfection at it's best.

Also, I am sad my cat never made it to be posted on My Cat Hates You, because he so does hate it when I interrupt his teddy bear love sessions.

110360687254911735 12/20/2004 09:24:52 PM
I'm back... you are happy about this. Getting this together has been agony... why is it that every web host feels the need to call their directory path different things? Would /home/public_html/user/ be so hard to use consistently? I would think not.

I am crushed I was unable to find the proper socks to make husband a sock monkey. It's a crying shame, but I refuse to make a sock monkey without a red ass. The red ass is a key component. I remember seeing them at Big R in Indiana, but I guess there aren't enough hillbillies around here to really support the whole worker man sock industry... so selection is limited.

Why oh why must this wretched town be over run with prettyboys?

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