Thursday, June 07, 2007

Another Steaming Pile of Blog...

I feel like my last few posts have really bit the ol' scrote-pouch, but I've just felt kinda frazzled, of late. I'm splitting my time between three to four projects at work, which always fucking blows, 'cuz it's hard to get any momentum on any one thing before I have to do a goddamn 180 and work on something else.

Plus, I've had to take the spawnage to three different doctors' appointments this week, which just rips my fucking anus clean open. Actually, I've taken Mr. Z to the goddamn orthodontist 4 times in the last two weeks 'cuz the piece-o-shit retainer they made for him keeps breaking into smaller and smaller chunks. We go in there, usually at 8 in the morning, they do some fucking half-assed retainer bondo on the thing and say, "There ya go! Good as new!" Then the boy takes a mouthful of applesauce, or a light breeze hits it and the thing shatters again. He thinks he swallowed a hunk the other night while he was eating ice cream. I'm telling ya, if that ortho-shard rips his colon open, some heads are gonna roll.

Today, I had to take Miss O to her eye doctor appointment, which is 45 minutes away, in the middle of the day. It turned out to be a pretty good visit, actually -- she only has to wear the patch on her eye three hours a day now, instead of four -- but it was still a taint-ripper. We made the most of it, though. She got a lollipop and a sticker, and I let her take a whiz in the men's bathroom, so that was a bonus for her. Some dude came in while she was washing her hands and she gave him the old evil-eye until he sheepishly secreted himself in the stall. She was basically telling him, "Don't even think of pissing in that fucking urinal while I'm standing here, home-slice." You had to be there, but it was pretty fucking hilarious.

So, yeah, that's why my recent posts have sucked donkeys.

Oh, here's an exchange Mr. Z and I had at bedtime:

MR. Z: I totally feel bad for this kid Elliot in my class.

ME: Why?

MR. Z: All the girls chase him during recess.

ME: Hm. I don't know if I'd feel bad for him. He might actually enjoy it. How would you feel if the girls wanted to chase you all recess?

MR. Z: I dunno... it might be kinda fun. [pause] Maybe I'll hang out with Elliot tomorrow.

ME: That's my boy.

1 comment:

queen lisa of montreal said...

Ah, fond memories of being chased on the playground, having my hat stolen, snow rubbed in my face, my school bag being played keepaway with and my lunch tampered with. Clearly, I was the hottest thing in grade four, judging by how much I was tortured by the demented little boys in my class! (many of whom asked me out in high school, mystifying me who was trying to make sense of their actions for the seven years prior to that!)Oh, young love...