Thursday, September 20, 2007

Thursday

RAINDROPS ON ROSES AND WHISKERS ON KITTENS....

In case anyone thinks that I don't like anything because I'm always picking on stupid people and writing about things that annoy me, it's not true. But how dull would it be if I just wrote about sweetness and light all the time? I'm sorry, but I find it much more entertaining to criticize morons. But, there are some things that I like:

  • Rachael Ray. Love her. One of the good things about being unemployed is getting to watch RR every morning. I don't often make her recipes, but she's so entertaining. I would like to sit down and talk to her.
  • Thunderstorms. We don't get them often here, but I love to watch a good lightening show.
  • Good movies. A well made movie in almost any genre will make me happy. I watched Breach last night. A good movie. Not the best, but it was good and worth the price of the rental.
  • Beer. When I was a (LARGE) baby the doctor told my mother that I was too big and she would never be able to nurse me. Well, being the stubborn bitch that she is, my mother was determined to prove him wrong. (My mother hates men, I have no idea why she ever got married because she hated her husband too.) Anyway, someone told her that drinking beer would make more milk, so she drank beer. I think that's why I like it.
  • Dogs. I love dogs. Except for mean ones. But, I don't like mean people either. Or stupid people. I'll bet you figured that out already though. I like cats too, but I don't have any. See below for the reason...
  • Dishes. I love dishes. When I was young we would often stop at the Pottery Shack in Laguna Beach, which apparently doesn't exist any longer, on our way to visit my grandparents. There was no Interstate 5 yet, the only way to get from San Diego to Los Angeles was up Highway 101. We were usually allowed to pick something to buy. I should specify that it had to be cheap, because my mother-besides being a stubborn bitch-was selfish and didn't believe in "spoiling" her children. She didn't believe in being nice to them either. Anyway, I remember one time picking out a really pretty bowl. My mother (have I mentioned that she's a bitch?) snarled "What are you going to do with THAT?", and made me pick out a ceramic animal. I hate ceramic animals, I wanted a pretty bowl to put in my room. So, now that I'm a grown-up I have dishes. Lots of dishes. More dishes than I will ever use. Mostly vintage Franciscan ware. Which is why I don't have cats. Dogs chase cats. Cats jump on shelves to escape dogs. I have dishes on shelves. I like cats, but I love my dishes. This is only one small part of my dish collection:The yellow pitcher on the left side of the top shelf is called a ball jug. On the Franciscan collectors email list we abbreviate things: EHP is "embossed hand painted", EP is "El Patio". Ball jugs are not abbreviated.
  • Raindrops on roses. Because in order to have those you have to have rain. We usually need rain in Southern California, except in the rare El Nino years when we're about to wash away. Right now we need it.

TODAY'S ADVICE TO MORONS

If you have your business name plastered all over your vehicle, don't drive like an asshole.

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