We are lying in bed last night. Hubby is reading. I am watching television. I'd mention what I was watching but I don't want to get all politicky on you. Suffice to say, I am oddly fascinated at the icky little horror show playing out on screen.
Me: Does she look drugged to you?
Hubby, continuing to read: Mm...
Me: She's a little slurry. Like maybe she popped a few muscle relaxers. Can't say I'd blame her, talking in front of such a huge crowd. Look! Look at her eyes. It's like she had one too many Mojitos...
Hubby, continuing to read: Mm.
Later in the evening...
Me: This is icky. Look at this... Look at these people...
Hubby: Mm.
Me: Let's not wait. We should move to Cozumel now. Think we could move in, say, the next two years?
Hubby, looking up, considering: Sure. We'd have to eat cat food.
Me: Can we get the Seafood Medley?
Hubby goes back to reading.
Fine. More for me.
Factoid: Fancy Feast Elegant Medleys line of cat food includes a single flavor labeled "Seafood and Egg Souffle with Pacific Shrimp and Garden Greens."
Now, doesn't that sound yummy?
05 September 2008
It doesn't sound so bad
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6 comments:
I am thinking about Canada - the Carribean is too hot for year round living for me.
I thinking more of lasagna. Yeah, a special kind of lasagna. Go see my post 530 for the recipe.
I'm thinking Argentina. I figure I can live off my savings for the next three years and/or get loads of plastic surgery, marry a gaucho and learn to tango.
RestaurantRefugee: Actually, the breeze picks up nicely when the hurricanes blow.
Mike: Ew.
Kristin: I won't cry for you, Argentina.
I've always loved the word "hubby" - so sweet.
Please don't move to Mexico. Please don't eat cat food. Stay here. We need you. Please! The election isn't for 8 more weeks. There will be debates in which She Who Must Not Be Named will have to think for herself.
We're a numb and stupid country, but we could wake up. We could. Really. Do you believe me??
I'll be here to cast my vote. I do so want to believe you!
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