Spare Some Change? (pun intended!)
So what's new! Did everyone do the obligatory Father's Day thing? I don't speak to my Father much, he remembers I'm alive about once every two years and calls when he's got a guilty patch that I'm supposed to heal or something. I imagine he's always sorry that he called, because I'm far from even faking being anyone's conscience for them.
As for my Pop, of.. god he and mom have been together at least 20 years now, his gift from me was Mr. Morgan. I sold my husband to him for 4 hours of golfing.
The Morgan children also gave gifts of golf, courtesy of me doing my non stop scouring for stray coins no matter where I am or who is looking and being inconvenienced. Really, I try to stay out of everyone's way as much as I can - you never know when a stranger is having a shitfuck of a day and you are the final catalyst to send them into frenzy that ends with hospitals and incarceration. BUT by and large my Kitty Pig obsession has always served me well and it paid for "Daddy" to golf this Friday. It was Kylee's idea mostly.
"Whacha doing?" wag wag wag.
"Collecting coins."
"For why?"
"For the Kitty Pig."
"It's no good in that, you should cash it in and get real money for Daddy Day!!!"
"Maybe."
"Mama, I'd do it myself but I don't even have a learners permit yet. You've got to do it."
So I did. My contribution to my husband's bullshit holiday (when he distinctly tells me that I'm off my rocker to think I'm a mother on THAT lame ass day too) was a bottle of Gold Bond. Extra Strength for the extra love!
He exercises and is on the move SO much the man is prone to some crazy thigh chaffing. I've been suggesting talcom powder for months and he finally has relented now that it's in the house.
He found another, sigh, yet another streetside excercise machine that now lives in the aforementioned room of death:
I give that thing two weeks tops before it gasps into oblivion. He has so many now, the garage is no longer an option for storage of the deceased and they are now crawling and limping into the living room. I try to ignore it, but laugh a little thinking about wives I know (Prada) who would be having none of that shit. My selective vision is all I have left on this subject.
#18 - The Sirens - My sister gave me this and I seem to recall she sat and watched the artist pencil it. It's 8x10 and extremely detailed. What looks to be shadow atop the frame is indeed.... dust. But you can call it a shadow or fluke of the camera if you like.
-DM
As for my Pop, of.. god he and mom have been together at least 20 years now, his gift from me was Mr. Morgan. I sold my husband to him for 4 hours of golfing.
The Morgan children also gave gifts of golf, courtesy of me doing my non stop scouring for stray coins no matter where I am or who is looking and being inconvenienced. Really, I try to stay out of everyone's way as much as I can - you never know when a stranger is having a shitfuck of a day and you are the final catalyst to send them into frenzy that ends with hospitals and incarceration. BUT by and large my Kitty Pig obsession has always served me well and it paid for "Daddy" to golf this Friday. It was Kylee's idea mostly.
"Whacha doing?" wag wag wag.
"Collecting coins."
"For why?"
"For the Kitty Pig."
"It's no good in that, you should cash it in and get real money for Daddy Day!!!"
"Maybe."
"Mama, I'd do it myself but I don't even have a learners permit yet. You've got to do it."
So I did. My contribution to my husband's bullshit holiday (when he distinctly tells me that I'm off my rocker to think I'm a mother on THAT lame ass day too) was a bottle of Gold Bond. Extra Strength for the extra love!
He exercises and is on the move SO much the man is prone to some crazy thigh chaffing. I've been suggesting talcom powder for months and he finally has relented now that it's in the house.
He found another, sigh, yet another streetside excercise machine that now lives in the aforementioned room of death:
I give that thing two weeks tops before it gasps into oblivion. He has so many now, the garage is no longer an option for storage of the deceased and they are now crawling and limping into the living room. I try to ignore it, but laugh a little thinking about wives I know (Prada) who would be having none of that shit. My selective vision is all I have left on this subject.#18 - The Sirens - My sister gave me this and I seem to recall she sat and watched the artist pencil it. It's 8x10 and extremely detailed. What looks to be shadow atop the frame is indeed.... dust. But you can call it a shadow or fluke of the camera if you like.
-DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
9:01 PM
2 Comments:
Garage is the only place my hubby gets. Living room is off limits...yup I am a clean freak.
I thought YOU did those raffes. They sure are cuties.
oh Mr. M. I admire his natural ability to find useless shit. He is a fellow thing finder in the words of one Pippi Longstocking.
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