Lie-by-pool-at-...friend's-apartment-get-rained-on sex hair. Honestly, my hair is insane. It is certifiably insane. It's over here with a shopping cart, babbling to itself.
Kiss Iris sex hair. Look at her bunny footie.
Do you know why I don't put that many pictures of Iris up? She's really hard to photograph. She doesn't make eye contact with the camera, cause she doesn't have so many eyes, and I guess the best time to get her is when she's sleeping but she doesn't sleep a lot. She just kind of hangs. Blindly.
I've been working on my end-of-my-blog veeedeo, and do you know who never took a bad picture? Seriously. Was Henry.
He was a blogger's dream cat. This photo right above, with his blue kitteny eyes, was the very first picture I ever took of him. AND LOOK AT IT. It was all uphill from there. He is a beautiful kitty. I miss me the Henry.
Thank heavens I talked about that because now I am sad.
Anyway, heyyy! Y'all back at work? How's that feeling? I am not at "work" ("DO NOT EAT") (I air-quoted "work" because hi. Don't really work there.) because I leave for my hometown in a little while. And for everyone FROM my hometown who reads this, I will be there for a funeral and I will be there for 24 hours, so. Don't get all in a wad with yer pantaloons that you don't get a glimpse of the June. The Great and Powerful June. Pay no attention to what's happening behind that curtain of hair.
I did, of course, text Hulk* that I was coming home and he has a DATE tonight! I know! Go Hulkie, it's yer date day. Gonna party like it's yer date day. Drink Bacardi like it's...any old day because you're a big drunk...
The point is, he thinks he'll be able to see me post date, and I sincerely hope he does not have sex hair.
I have not yet packed my bags, although I have IN MY MIND, which means when I do it it'll be fast. I know it makes people nervous that I do not pack till the last minute. Also, I forget something every time. "Oh, I forgot pants. Guess I'll walk around pantsless like Julienne Moore in that movie. Where we saw her goods for like 17 minutes." What movie was that?
Perhaps packing at the last minute and forgetting to pack things ("Oh, I forgot all my meds and makeup." I mean, it's always something major like that) might be related. I am not sure.
The funeral is at Snow Funeral Home, which I'm certain I told you before is where my grandfather was interred. I guess he wasn't literally interred there, but whatever. When we got there--my father, aunt, grandmother and me--Mr. Snow said, "Now, what are we doing with the body?" and at the same time, all four of us thought of my grandfather saying, "When I die, don't make a fuss. Just stick a bone up m'ass and let the dogs drag me away."
I am sorry to tell you this made us all a little giggly.
Then, several days later, my father called Mr. Snow about some technicality, and my aunt and I were there. He must've been doing some word association thing in his head because when Snow Funeral Home answered, he said, "Yes. Is this Jack Frost?"
My aunt and I went into HYSTERICS, falling all over each other and hooting and so on. What I am saying to you is, I think we impressed Mr. Snow quite a bit with our dignity. Looking forward to seeing him again.
Okay, I will get to packin'. If I die in a plane crash, there IS an end-of-my-blog veedeo. Make someone put it up. Oh! Marvin will be here dogsitting. Make him do it.
June, out. Looking forward to posting from mom's Speedy Gonzales computer tomorrow.
*Recent text between Hulk and me:
Hulk: Do you know where I can buy doilies?
June: Well, once you're done washing your vagina, you might try Joann's Fabrics.
