I finally used that Black Magic car wax that I bought weeks ago cuz it was
in a shiny red bottle, remember? Good stuff. It didn't even leave dust all over the car
like a lot of the waxes do. And it even had a slight cherry scent to it. It dawned on me that
that is the perfect way for the auto industry to get women more
interested in car care. Add fragrances to their car supplies.
Apple cinammon car wash and blueberry chrome cleaner.
Trust me, we'd sucker for it.
I'm busy packing for my upcoming road trip. Yep, that's right kids, I'm going to
'Allanna' to do South's updates once again.
I shall be arriving at South's dump--I mean "luxious accommodations"--on Thursday.
And while he's whooping it up in Tampa, I'll be working my fingers to the bone....going through all his stuff.
As usual, Mr. G was very upset when he found out I was leaving.
Mr. G: "Who's going to cook for me?"
Me: "Oh, Sweetie. I don't cook for you now. Now I have to go out for a few minutes."
Mr. G: "Where are you going?"
Me: "Uma fixin' to are up."
Mr. G: "What?!"
Me; "Sorry, honey. Every time I even think about going back to Jawja I start talking funny."
I bought myself one of those five inch thick Day Planners and I carry it with
me EVERYWHERE now.
(Like I need to PLAN watching COPS, eating in bed and reading romance novels.)
Don't have a damn thing written in it, but I carry it everywhere.
But today I took it on my walk with Hurricane Holly. I thought I might be inspired by the beautiful Pennsylvania day. Holly likes to walk, then lay down in the front yard awhile (her run is in the back yard) and we sit with her.
This is what I've written so far, "Damn it's hot out here in the sun. I wish I was inside where it's cool."
I received a letter today from the Edward and Rose Berman Hillel Jewish University Center in Pittsburgh informing me that they now have a Chicken Soup Hotline and if Female Offspring #1 is sick, they'll deliver her some hot chicken soup. I was going to sign her up immediately and tell her to make sure she had her old ratty robe and Vicks VapoRub on hand when they deliver. Not because she's sick, but because it would be a way for her to get homemade chicken soup delivered hot. Then I realized they charged $180 for this service.
Screw it. For that price she could buy over a 180 cans of generic noodle soup.
I know the secret ingredient in homemade soup is love, but not $180 worth of love, damn it.
[For a guy, that's the equivalent of about 9 blow jobs sans love. So not worth it.]
They also said they'd give her a Passover Survival Kit and a free Nice Jewish Girl t shirt,
something every blue eyed, blonde Catholic gurl needs.
(Ya know I'd like to poke fun at what could be in that
Passover Survival kit, but not being a Jew, I have no clue.)