Just now, when I let Edsel out for his morning constitutional (weee the edzuls of united states, in ordur to form more purfect onion...wut you mean it not onion?), when I opened the door, an enormous bird of prey was flying through my back yard, really low. I don't mean he was depressed, how could you be when you have the wing span of Oregon.
The point is, it was super cool and now I wonder if I have some sort of bird of prey convention going on near me. Maybe they're meeting to discuss whether it's okay to prey in schools.
You're welcome. Come back anytime.
I've been considering getting a bat house, or even a bathhouse because I need more gay men. The gaybors have never taken me up on my invitation to drink on my deck, by the way, and they can suck my deck. I'm on fire today. Anyway, bat houses attract bats, who then eat your mosquitoes, plus also bats are cool.
Alternatively, I have a sexy girl-bat costume I could put on occasionally to attract bats. Hang in the yard seductively.
Seriously. El fuego.
I wonder what makes a boy bat all, heyyyyyyy, good lookin' over a girl bat. Like, does she have really attractive fangs or does she wear teensy stilettos or is it all, Check out the sonar on THAT chick. Bat. Whatever.
Last night I took one of those hard-hitting personality tests on Facebook, this one being one of those Myers-Briggs "You're an EQYF" or whatever. I'm sorry to tell you that on OK Cupid, sometimes in their profiles, men will tell you what personality type they are, and right then I know. Whatever personalty Myers-Briggs think you have, I think you fall under the category of "annoying."
I'm getting bitter about the online dating. Ned and I broke up seven months ago, and I started going on dates at the beginning of this year, and so far I've had, what, dates with seven different people? As opposed to seven of the same people. And so far I've dated men with homosexual tendencies, men with admitted mental disorders, a few who were into polyamory and a few who seemed perfectly normal but I just wasn't feeling it.
There was one guy I was excited to meet, and then after two weeks of emailing he told me he met someone else. There's another guy that whenever we DO talk we chatter like howler monkeys, but if I don't initiate conversation he never talks to me. So suck my deck, bub.
Oh, and also, you see men on there who seem okay, and then you look at their age range that they're seeking. Just today I saw someone who was 52, and he was seeking women 21-45. I sent him a choice message. I CAN'T HELP IT. Twenty-one. You're 52, bub. There's not a 21-year-old in the world who won't find that creepy. Jesus.
Anyway. Discouraged. Starting to think I might stop looking. Become a handsome woman who gardens. I keep saying that and then as soon as I see a bug in the dirt I squeal and go inside.
Maybe I'll be a handsome woman who drinks.
This morning, when I woke up, I noticed I was spooning Edsel, which is all well and good, and when I went to pet him I hit cat dirt, as it were, because Edsel was in turn spooning Iris. I wonder if Lily saw us and thought we were cute and took a picture and put it on her blog. What would Lily's blog be? Bye Bye, Outside. Or maybe Hello, Lap.
OH MY GOD, my point was, the personality test on Facebook said my personality goes off on tangents, and I get 50 subjects going in one discussion, and then weave it all back together like a spiderweb. I am not even kidding, that is what I was going to tell you 29 paragraphs ago and I got distracted.
Anyway. I gotta go. I have to get ready for work, because everybody's workin' for the weekend. After, I'll pull on my red leather pants. Or my sexy bat costume.
Linearly,
June
