Early this morning I heard the voice mail thingy on my cell phone start beeping. Knowing that only Mr. G and the offspring have my cell phone number, I leaped out of bed--ok, first I bitched about who would be calling me this late at night when everybody is supposed to be home, THEN I gradually fell out of bed and answered the phone. They left this message, OBVIOUSLY a wrong number: "Jumbo, call me at the hotel as soon as you get this message. I don't care what time it is. I need to talk to you." Now I'm guessing from the sound of this dude's voice, that a drug deal could be in the making if Jumbo is on the ball. Question: how desperate for friends do you have to be that you'd let people call you "Jumbo"? I mean unless your last name IS Jumbo, why let people get away with that? The first person that calls me Jumbo will be the last person that calls me Jumbo. I don't give a crap how nicely they say it. And I can honestly tell you that if I was a black rap singer with a posse, they wouldn't be calling me stupid names like "Fat Joe" or "Biggie D" or "Heft T Bags." My rapper name would definitely have the word "luscious" or "delicious" or "lusciously declicious" in it. There would be NO MENTION of my high percentage of body fat.
I didn't get to watch all of last night's new COPS ep, yet another Ho, Ho, Ho's special.
We were flipping back and forth between it and the
NY Giant's game. Mr. G was praying and sweating it out,
hoping the Giants would win. They did.
I received yet another email from a "friend" of mine who thinks I should focus my "talents" on becoming a scriptwriter. We've
had this conversation about 50 times now and while it's always great when someone has taken the time to
plan your life out for you, I say "GET A JOB ALREADY!" Anywho, this time he encloses a HUGE LIST of movies he wants me to watch so we can discuss them at a later date. Yeah that's happening. Hell, I've never even seen the movie "You've Got Mail," a fact that shocked and astounded him no end.
I don't know what I was thinking yesterday, but I AM working New Year's Eve, it's the 30th that I'm off.
Goddess' Hott Cop O'The Week Award goes to: Sgt. Dan Torok
of the Spokane, Washington Police Department. He's a hottie squared.
Damn it! Yet *another* cops calendar and this one looks super duper good.
There is just no way on God's green earth I can justify buying this one, too. Double damn it!!!
I saw Prancer (for the third time this holiday season) Saturday afternoon. I still cry at the end when the litle girl says,
"I wish I could keep you for my own. I'll always remember you, Prancer. I love you."
Apparently God does not want me to work on New Year's Eve. I agreed to work the 23rd for the overtime hog and she said she'd work New Year's Eve for me. Well, when I heard we were supposed to get an ice storm on the 16th, I asked her to work that Friday instead. Now today she called me and asked me to work the 26th and in exchange she'll work New Year's Eve for me. Evidently I'm not supposed to work that day, so I'll stay home. Hmm, maybe this has to do with my sister's death dream predicition that I'd be dead by the end of the month.
THEN overtime hog said, "And I won't ask you to switch any more this year."
I burst out laughing and said, "There aren't any days left to change in '05!"