Our air-conditioner 'sploded. It was nice of it to wait until it was 94 goddamn degrees so my Balzac can hang down around my knees like some sort of fucking scrote-skirt.
It's the damn kitchen, I tell ya. The minute we decided to pump all this money into fixing up the kitchen, everything else instantly goes to shit. There's a leak in the family room ceiling, we need a new air-conditioner, Mr. Z has to get "Phase I" of his braces already (?!) -- I'm just waiting for the cars to catch on fire, the basement to flood and the roof to blow off in a twister.
And to top it off, I have yet to win the lotto. I mean, how many times do I have to buy a ticket?! I've bought, like, 12 in my lifetime -- you think I'd have won at least once by now. I don't think I've gotten more than one number that matches. I'm starting to think that game is fixed or something. Fucking lotto.
On the bright side, that garden I planted (see June 12th post for the before pic) is now out of control:
The shit's growing like loco weed (which, now that I think of it, is what I should've planted in the first place). In about two weeks I'm gonna have tomatoes coming out of my ass.
Whew, glad I didn't plant pumpkins.
3 comments:
Our A/C went kaput during the last 90+ degree hot spell. We came home after a long, sweaty car trip in a non-air conditioned vehicle at 11 PM to a 89 degree house.
I feel your pain and hotness.
(Sorry if that sounded kinda dirrrty.)
None taken, Kim.
It was 96 today. We're all sleeping in the basement tonight. If that's not blog fodder, I don't know what is.
When you start a band with Mr. Z and Ms. O, that's the name you should go with--BLOG FODDER.
Good luck with the basement tapes tonight.
Post a Comment