So there I was, perched on the gyno's table, when--
nah. Nothin'.Just sounded like the start to a GOOD story.
Heh.
So apparently there's this guy who does this music show in England, or thereabouts.
I keep wanting to say Jules Verne, but that ain't it.
Then I want to say Gary Jules, but that's not right either.
Late Night with__________.
(I looked it up: Jools Holland. I wasn't even CLOSE. get it? cuz the jools is spelled differently...)
Anyway, his show is now broadcast on one of our HD stations, so I set a timer to record it.
I sat down tonight to mend a hole in my friend's blanket while dinner cooked,
and I turned on the telly-vision
flipped to my recorded shows,
saw this show in the list,
remembered that I had wanted to check it out,
clicked on a random episode out of the several there,
and
it
had Pearl Jam on it!!!
Wooooot!
They were, of course, marvelous.
The interview was, of course, waaaaay
tooooooo
short.
I still want to lick Eddie Vedder's neck, but that's not going to change.
...until I can check it off my list of Life Goals.
(I should really make one of those.)
ANYWAY.
It was awesome.
But an unexpected bonus was that the other bands were all pretty
fucking fantastic, as well.
I didn't listen to all of them because the salmon only needed to roast for 25 minutes, and my doorbell would NOT stop ringing, but I'll get to that in a minute.
Boy Scouts and hot black men from last night's sex dream (that conjunction was only meant to imply that both boy scouts and hot black men did the following action, not that both boy scouts and hot black men were in last night's sex dream; I may have once claimed to like 'em young, but, like...EWWW. Young = under 25, and now that we're on the subject, I am not actually attracted to even That variety of young anymore. Hell, I can barely be arsed to be attracted to ANYONE. Where the FUCK were we????)
...sorry...got carried away on the parenthetical notation...
Ok, so...oh, yes, I was just saying that my little quiet time was interupted by boy scouts and cleaning product salesmen.
So.
Uh...
where the hell was I?
Oh yes.
One of the bands was called The Zutons and they sang a song called "Valerie."
It was KILLER, so I launched myself down the stairs and commenced to download it from Limewire, but.....
It has been a
s
l
o
w
download and all this time I have had a different song in my head.
I bet it's on yours now, too.
That's right.
Steve Winwood, that 80s maniac who should really be back in the hiiiiiiiiiiigh
life
again.
Or something.
BAH.
So now I just hope the fucking song finishes downloading so I can use it to flush out the other, eightieser song by the same name.
For a good time, call--
no, wait.
For a good time, check out the comments I left from my cell phone on the post below this.
I am chuckling.
I had also forgotten how goddamned fast and painless pelvic exams were.
My glorious breasts are officially lump free and to the doc I say, "You're welcome."
(but you have to say it like that guy in that movie. No, I don't have any more information than that, but if you know who I mean, let me know.)
I am pretty sure the incompetant and brain-dead "nurse" (because I'm pretty sure she wasn't a REAL nurse, more like she got some certificate off the internet...) damaged a nerve in my finger while trying and failing to extract blood from one of the veins on the back of my hand.
Christ.
When will I learn????
When will I stop trying to make everyone else's lives easier while making my own HARDER????
It seems like whenever I warn a potential blood taker that I have tricky veins they end up having a harder time than those I don't warn.
FUCKERS.
These two gave up.
The one girl was truly a complete moron.
The other seemed smart enough/normal but she had
never
drawn
blood
before.
UHHHH.....????
I told her not to worry about it, that I was a good person to practice on since I am impervious to pain.
...maybe that's because my veins are impervious to needles!!
Anyway, my fucking finger hurts.
(Not my "fucking finger", my fuckin' FINGER.)
This feels like a post from the good ole days, doesn't it?
That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Or could that be the whiskey?
Ha. No, it couldn't, actually, because I haven't consumed any.
Ah yes, so the door bell.
The first was a salesman, selling that one stuff.
the stuff that is supposed to replace every cleaning product in your home, blah blah blah.
AND THEN.
The bell rang again and there stood a dear little orthodonticized Boy Scout.
They have this deal where for $35 a year they will come and put a flag up in front of your house for each national holiday and remove it the next day, etc.
I meant to do it last year, but I missed them, so I was so excited that they came around.
Then...the darling child (in all the awkward glory of any 13 or 14 year old) launched into his little spiel...with a stutter!!
It was all I could do not to hug the scrawny child.
Instead, I smiled and enthused over the presentation.
And then.
My husband the handsome smart ass who likes to fuck with sales people of all varieties walked up behind me.
Fortunately the kid's troop leader was with him so he didn't have to deal with my husband on his own...
cuz...as much as I love the man, and believe me, I love him a LOT, it makes me positively squirm when he goes all fuck-with-the-sales-guy on me.
He was smiling and friendly, but what you have to understand is that my husband is a tall fella (6'2") and he has more confidence than is allotted to most humans when it comes to business and knowledge in general, so...he can be extremely intimidating in situations like that, even with a smile on his face.
He scares the shit out of me, at least.
heh.
Ok, so anyway, I leapt into the kitchen for my check book and was back in the foyer in a blink, and all was well.
But sheesh.
Poor kid.
I also went a little wacky at the warehouse-membership store which shall remain nameless today.
Books and movies and two-packs of CEREAL!
Dumbass.
But, anyway.
I got a set of Stephen King movies...
two of my all-time favorite movies--
Of all time, you redundant fool!
The Shining and Shawshank, baby!
Can I end another line that way!
...sorry, that last one might not have made sense, but, see...I had to make another line the same length as the prior two, and end it with an exclamation point even though a question mark would have been much more logical. And, as it turns out, the lines are only the same length in my editing window, not on the actual blog post, so it makes even LESS sense. Siiiiigh.
I can't seem to stop writing...
I guess I'm just filling the vacum that has been steadily growing around me...
One of my best friends from high school had her first baby a few days ago.
That boy is gorgeous.
One of my longest-known bloggers had HER first--and hard-won--baby the day before that.
That girl is also (and equally) gorgeous.
The deepest, most thoroughly felt-in-my-heart congratulations to them all!! |
posted by Bored Housewife at
9:14 PM
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