I like him, but...

Does anyone else think James Blunt kind of blew his wad with the first album?

I'm almost out of ice cream.

Skool.

My son came home with a book report that started:

Toy Story 2 is about toys that cum to life.

Smell it?

I went down to the corner store (market, if you prefer) today during my lunch. I walked in and vaguely noticed a smell, a chemical-ish smell, but didn't pay much attention to it. After I grabbed a box of just one calorie Tic-Tacs, I went to the counter. There I was assaulted, yes, assaulted, by the smell. It immediately entered my nose and mouth. I saw a Windex bottle tipped on it's side on the counter. (but even then, I knew somewhere in my head that it was all wrong for Windex) I made a noise that was a cross between "blech" and "yuck", which I'm sure you'll agree is impossible to type. Then an "ew" sound, which was one of those very annoyed "ew"s, not a cutesy, uptalk "ew". You know. With the extended "w" part. The Red Bull girl started laughing and I turned to her and said "I think I can taste it!" and she agreed. Of course, it was half a second after that exchange that I realized the smell was not the Windex at all, but the woman standing three feet from me. Which sucked, because I don't like to insult people. To their face. I much prefer doing it behind their back.

(if you're giggling, you're childish. yes, I said "doing it")

But half an hour later when I could still smell and taste the perfume, I didn't feel quite as bad. Because I'm sure every person she came into contact with thought the same thing as me, but I was the only one who voiced it. I sure hope she learned a lesson today. Inflicting asthma upon countless innocent souls with your excessive perfume usage is a bad way to get into heaven.

Animal Cruelty.

All day my cat has been crying for food. I keep feeding her, she keeps crying for more. She's been crying for food when there's still food in her bowl.

She just wants the attention, I think. Because she's dying of kidney disease, you know.

Despite the whole dying thing, I get a little crazy after four hours of meow-meow. I finally snapped and yelled "Fatty, if you don't shut up I'm going to kick you and throw you outside!"

And I hear my son from the other room yell "Mom, let ME kick her! Can I kick her?"

Which scares me and makes me laugh really hard at the same time.

I like to read a murder mystery. I like to know the killer isn't me.

When was the last time you had a random Erasure song stuck in your head?

It's physics.

I hate bitches with super long, French manicured nails in maroon Mitsubishis who think that if I'm not tailgating the car in front of me that I'm not going as fast as they are.

Bitch, back off.

Your insurance is way more expensive than mine.

Reading.

I am thoroughly addicted to Augusten Burroughs. I can't stop reading his book, even though a part of me wants to read slowly so it will last longer.

I read Running With Scissors and Dry. I'm almost through with Magical Thinking. I just ordered Sellevision and his latest book, Possible Side Effects. I highly recommend getting at least Running With Scissors. But you may as well get Dry while you're at it. Trust me.

Is it irony to be addicted to an alcoholic?