Oh my good God from Goldsboro, I feel like I have not talked to all 950 million of you in a month. I have so many things to tell you, all of them pertinent, as per usual, but I am pressed for time. Pressed. For time.
We had a snowstorm here on Christmas day,
and a giant LOG fell on our cable thingamajig,
(enclosed please find photo of Edsel eating downed cable thingamajig. ALL OF OUR PETS were bad this Christmas, except Francis.) (I know!) (when all you move in a day is your bowels, it is kind of hard to be bad)
(attached please find photo evidence of Winston sitting on very expensive wreath made of genuine diamonds) (okay but still, this is from, like, Fancy Crate and Overpriced Barrel, and it cost a mint and there he is SITTING on it)
and anyway, once the cable thing fell, we had no PHONE, and no INTERNET, and no TV, and no FURNITURE, and no OXYGEN, and our souls were RIPPED from our very beings, until this afternoon.
And what it was? Boring. What did people DO before they could watch The Kardashians or Google Barry Gibb?
So that is where I have been, in case you didn't read the comment Hulk left you about where I was. I called him on my mobile in desperation.
Also, I am pressed for time because I had to go work at my old workplace today, at the place that dumped me, as they needed a fill-in while the copy editors who retained their gainful employment took Christmas break. I will be there all week, kind of like a comedian. I'll be here all week! Tip your wait staff! Try the copy editing!
Anyway, going back today? It was like when you break up with someone you really like, and then you stupidly try to get back together, knowing you are just in it for the sex (hi, mom) and few days of fun before it all falls apart again. So I caressed the coffee machines and smiled at the mouthwash in the rest room, knowing I could have none of these things again come Friday.
By the way, my childhood picture is still up in the lobby. Sad.
And I am pressed for time as well because now I am home and have to change into my bathing suit. Yes, really. For a party my friend Hammy is having. She is having a July in Christmas party tonight, where we are supposed to wear our summer clothes, which is a clever idea except all the snow and ice is on the ground and it is 87 degrees below zero out and just the thought of putting on skimpy clothes makes me shiver.
So barring any pneumonia I may catch from going outside NAKED just to be sporting about a PARTY THEME, I will return to tell you about (a) our Christmas, (2) the orange frozen kitty who came back, (iii) how Henry broke our spice rack, (%) the bizarre marital aid Marvin got me for Christmas (or maybe I won't tell you about that. Perhaps I could just tell you those KY commercials? Where they are having so much fun with the exploding volcano and guy leaping from a cannon and the fireworks and such? Yeah, no. Not unless you enjoy mating with 1,000 cinnamon toothpicks.) (Hi, mom.), (v) my new year's resolution, and ... oh heck. There is just so much to relay.
It would take a WISE MAN to condense all I have to CATch you up on.
Sigh.
