Monday Morning Blog OR Randomtivity Happens

What can I say?

Recent happenings:

-  I have been sick.  Very sick.  Pneumonia type sick and stuff has not been done.  In fact, I feel like I have been put through a wringer and then kicked off a cliff and then told I'm fired.  Or something like that.  This is the third time in my life I've had it and I don't know if it's because I'm older or fatter or because Obama was reelected, it just seemed worse.  (Damn.  That was a good one.  Democrats everywhere are shuddering.)  (I'll try to equal out the balance by slamming a Republican later in the blog.)

- We recently went to a movie.  We saw Skyfall.  I could say something about the movie.  I didn't think it was as good as say, Casino Royale, although it was much better than Quantum of Solace, which had a weird name as well as minimal plot.  Several other things I could mention happened in the movie but I don't want to spoil it.  (Someone dies.  Someone important dies.  I mustn't say more.)  Bond gets shot in the beginning by a very cute girl who I recognized as being one of the survivors in 28 Days Later.  (Good role for her.  Zombies to Bond.  Nice.  And she's buff.  But then so is Bond.)  (And can I say that while I like Daniel Craig, he is the ugliest Bond ever.  He's like super craggy face.  I like his Bond.  He can act.  He can wear a tailored suit, but he's definitely the ugliest Bond.  Sorry.)  We were the only ones in the theater.  (Early matinee because Fat Woman needs an afternoon nap these days.)  So maybe I was a little vociferous.  Hey, I didn't even turn off my cell phone.  In fact, when we left there was a single employee there to clean up the theater and I told him, "Don't worry, we didn't mess it up."  He didn't believe me and went in to check.  And I was all like, "Is it me, or have plots got incredibly predictable?"  I could have written this James Bond movie.  I knew what they were going to say before they said it.  (Javior Bardem was a baddass Bond villain but I didn't get the need for him to be blond.  However, his opening lines were really good when he told the story about how his grandmother taught him how to kill rats.  You have to see it to appreciate it.  I didn't predict that part, so kudos to the writers for getting that part right.)  Anyway, my sister said to me, upon my complaint about the predictability of the movie, "You want another The Usual Suspects."  She's totally right.  I want to watch the damn movie.  Then go back to the beginning and say, "I have to watch that again to figure it out because Keyser Soze effed with my mind."

Anyway, I told that whole story because when we got out to the car HIM looked at the tickets and said, "The kid charged us a senior citizen rate."

That's how sick I've been I guess.  I look like a senior citizen and I'm not even 50.  Irony has been bitch-slapping me around.

- Our daughter's 3rd grade science project is now in the works.  (Either we will blow up the house or get it finished by the 23rd of January.  Either one.)  She shall determine whether or not frozen candles burn slower than unfrozen candles.  Here's a suggestion for everyone.  Have a fire extinguisher ready for this one.  No, she didn't light the house on fire.  But be ready.  No, she didn't light the cat's tail on fire.  Just be ready.  In my house, the person who isn't ready is the one who ends up with Sharpie comments written on the crotch of his jeans.  (It was a smiley face.  Totally innocuous.  I should have taken a picture but it wasn't like he was asleep or anything unconscious-like.)  (What does that have to do with a 3rd grade science project?  I don't know but I segwayed (segued) into it.  Now I have to go see how to spell segwayed properly.  (Segued.  A Segway is something completely different.)  I should have been prepared.  I should have had a fire extinguisher AND a dictionary.  What was I thinking?)

- My birthday is coming up.  I suspect I won't get anything exciting.  I think HIM and my daughter are afraid I'll have a heart attack or something if they get me something exciting.  I want a stripper.  I want a man dressed in a gorilla suit who strips off the clothing over the gorilla suit and then has neon-target lighted underwear.  Wait, I'll try to find a photograph.  No, wait.  I don't really want a stripper dressed as a gorilla, but that would have been funny.  Once HIM sent a clown to my work.  The clown kissed me on the lips with greasy paint makeup that would not come off no matter what.  (Where was my stripper then?  No friggin' clown strippers, either.)  (I've decided I want a Segway for my birthday.)

Okay.  I admit this blog is strange.  It's especially strange since I couldn't put any images in it.  Blame Blogger.  Their shizz was broke.  It wouldn't let me do anything including insert weird photos of bunnies and kittens riding on a scooter together.  (My right hand to God, there is such a picture.)  Wait, I'll post the link.  See here.  Kitties and bunnies.

I'll stop before it's too late.