somebody fire me
This morning we were watching last night's Daily Show, which we love, and the guest was Donald Trump. In the course of interviewing him, Jon Stewart mentioned that he [Jon] had been fired over 25 times, which made me jealous because I'm 36 and have never been fired even once. So what I think I'm going to do is, when we finally move back to WA state, right away I'm going to get a job I don't want, and then I'm going to get fired from it, on purpose. I figure if I get and lose the job within a month or so of relocating, I can leave it off my resume without a suspicious time gap, because sometimes it takes several months to find a job when you move somewhere. I'll make sure the person I work for is a total asshole so I won't feel guilty about implementing my plan, though it is clearly evil and wrong on many levels. But I just want to be fired once; is that so much to ask?
Last night Francisco and I were laying in bed, pre-sleep, and he said he wanted to write a book called "Why Your Pastor is Wrong". I said he should do it, or instead we could put out tracts on the subject. And then a freight train of an idea roared into my brain station, the idea being that we should make up tracts that look almost exactly like Chick Tracts, and then leave them in restaurant bathrooms and etc. They could be about anything, as long as they looked like Chick Tracts--they could be an onion soup recipe, or political in nature so that we could have Dubya looking like a Chick Tract devil (red-faced, with horns and a tail). I truly have no intention of following through on this idea, because to make them look like Chick Tracts they'd need to be professionally printed, the cost of which cannot be justified at this time, but if I were rich, I'd be on the phone right now, hiring an illustrator. I can't draw, see, but I Can write up an onion soup recipe.
We watched the Little Stevie show last night, from Monday night, and holy crap that fake family is funny! I had to pause the show and laugh when the "mom" said she'd breast fed Steve until he was 5; that was brilliant. And when the dad took his suit off in the jacuzzi, and the sister said a lot of whales commit suicide--oh man. We're loving the show, except Francisco has to watch it through his fingers, for protection against the embarrassment the actors Should feel if they weren't acting. I told him if he watched it through his fingers, he was still watching it, and he said no, it's different. He is a strange and wonderful man.
Our cats went a little 'Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?' last night. I think what started it was, we needed to give Esther a pill before we went to sleep, but she ran upstairs and wouldn't come down. We got in bed with Lucy and told her, loudly, what a good cat she was, and how pretty, and smart, and sweet. A couple minutes later, there's Esther coming in to see why Lucy's getting love, and there's the pill in Esther's mouth and down her throat. But see, Esther is a jealous, jealous little person, and the fact that Lucy got attention (albeit semi-fake attention) apparently set her feet firmly on the path of revenge. For the next couple of hours I kept hearing them growling and hissing and stampeding around the house until I sat up (after Esther had harrassed Lucy into running away, aGAIN) and told Esther to knock it the fuck off already. I think she sensed I was about to snap and go completely apeshit, so she stopped, but she started back up this morning around 8, at which point I told her what a rotten mammal she is and that nobody likes her. And poor Lucy! She probably can't even enjoy the attention we give her, because she knows she'll pay for it later, and god forbid she should drop the soap in the shower. They better be mellow tonight when I want to sleep, because I can't take anymore cats fighting when I'm already not sleeping that great. I'll issue them a threatening proclamation.
I had a meatloaf sandwich for lunch and it was perfect. Francisco took me out to lunch to our favorite diner, and we had a good conversation and tried to plan a road trip, but we couldn't decide where to go. We were thinking maybe Savannah or up to Virginia someplace, but nothing with the word "Historic" in front of it. Can I tell you something? The Civil War, to me, is the most boring thing ever. I Know it's historically very important, but it puts me into a coma and I develop sudden and extreme ADD when faced with anything Civil War-related. Perhaps this is indicative of a shallow personality, but damn; I have really Had it with the Civil War.
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