Today is my last day working at that freelance job.
And since 94956739 people in my real life asked me, I will tell you. The reason my last day is a Monday is because the other editor went on vacation and she'll be back tomorrow. I guess we can always hope she has such a good time on her vacation that she never comes back, like Shirley Valentine.
June. Referencing little-seen movies from 1990 that will resonate with .02 people. Since 2012.
Don't you love my Talu's face? With her pitty bull jawline and how you can tell her every thought? She gets a lot of expressions, my Lu. My Luis. My Louis Farrakhan.
Have we created teams for the new cats? I really can't remember. Let's do it today, cause I got nothing to tell you other than I have no job. Oh, and that ...friend dragged me to YET ANOTHER depressing movie. In this case I had to leave the effing theater. It was called The Sound of My Voice. If you are just dying for a 15-minute vomit scene, stampede to the theater now.
Are you Team Iris?
Or (and, really?) Team Edsel?
Let me know. This is all quite crucial and needs to be addressed forthwith. Your prompt attention to this matter is appreciated.
Oh, and could everyone tell me what I owe them? Do I still need to send Furry a DESPAIR! pennant? Who have I not awarded stuff to who has won coveted gifts on this blog? Is anyone Team June? "I'm Team June. She has contests, tells people the inflatable toast is on its way, then never sends it. GO JUNE!"