Someday, Maybe... with dedication start.
Saying I'm going to blog soon, while actually blogging is a retarded gesture that smacks of excuses no one cares about, but I'm doing it anyway.
I have moved. I have pictures! I have holiday gossip, stories and more shit talking to usher us into 2010 than anyone could hope for!
I also have black bags under my eyes, a weary directory of work clothing that is doing nothing to help me look anything less than second hand and sloppy, and finally a very shitty schedule which requires me to daily concentrate on when I need to get up and start kicking my day around as opposed to the monkey motion of setting the same alarm for the same time every morning. Same coffee, same dogs who need to go potty as a result of drinking every last drop of water from their bowl as the Discovery Channel channel programming have informed them the water supply on Earth is low. Or poisoned. Or poisonously fucking low. Whatever it is, Kylee translates to the Russian and both get nervous, fill their bladders and become MORE nervous they have no where to empty it and begin blaming each other for jumping the gun on the water shortage scare. This means more black eye baggage and bladder catering, ultimately being a facet of my fuck it lazy attitude to post a decent update and instead belly up a promise it's coming. With fireworks and dancing girls.
Yeah, I just blamed being tardy mostly on dogs who constantly need to piss. Sue me, it's totally true, but moving was horrendous, gross, exhausting, all during the holidays where I was slotted to go from house scrub to clean fingernails in an hour every day for the last couple of weeks. I was, am?, ready to pull my finger nails out just to sleep that extra five minutes and not wonder what I got into and why it's that color around my cuticles.
Cheers, tell me about your holiday, favorite gift? A story perhaps? I'll be next doing either a photo entry of the house and it's oddities, one of my gossip column o' observations, and a dedication one since it's the new year and overdue. All in time, meanwhile, ration your water, filling up to point of bloat is not the magic key to the doom upon our doorstep. I can't say that whilst annoyingly inconvenient, there is something about the expression on the face of a dog with a pending bladder explosion that doesn't give me a smiling pause. The panic look although quickly turns to "bitch I will piss right here if we can't reach an agreement." Fair enough.
For now, I will kick off one dedication early, for BLD:
My Burning Girl will get it. Only line I don't imply is the one about "him" being untrue, but I suppose that could be interpretive, untrue could be anything from addictions to habits to just being unable to not be a fuck up. Sometimes picking a vice isn't necessarily picking. You have a good thing, or fuck if I know - maybe a comfortable thing, and patience longer than a scain of yarn. As dysfunctional as anyone else, you bet your ass.... so remember walking in that Playa "sand" and smile on the good ok. People get misguided, they change, but vintage is vintage baby and letting go is over-rated and easily recommended too often. Your DM loves you many!
- DM
I have moved. I have pictures! I have holiday gossip, stories and more shit talking to usher us into 2010 than anyone could hope for!
I also have black bags under my eyes, a weary directory of work clothing that is doing nothing to help me look anything less than second hand and sloppy, and finally a very shitty schedule which requires me to daily concentrate on when I need to get up and start kicking my day around as opposed to the monkey motion of setting the same alarm for the same time every morning. Same coffee, same dogs who need to go potty as a result of drinking every last drop of water from their bowl as the Discovery Channel channel programming have informed them the water supply on Earth is low. Or poisoned. Or poisonously fucking low. Whatever it is, Kylee translates to the Russian and both get nervous, fill their bladders and become MORE nervous they have no where to empty it and begin blaming each other for jumping the gun on the water shortage scare. This means more black eye baggage and bladder catering, ultimately being a facet of my fuck it lazy attitude to post a decent update and instead belly up a promise it's coming. With fireworks and dancing girls.
Yeah, I just blamed being tardy mostly on dogs who constantly need to piss. Sue me, it's totally true, but moving was horrendous, gross, exhausting, all during the holidays where I was slotted to go from house scrub to clean fingernails in an hour every day for the last couple of weeks. I was, am?, ready to pull my finger nails out just to sleep that extra five minutes and not wonder what I got into and why it's that color around my cuticles.
Cheers, tell me about your holiday, favorite gift? A story perhaps? I'll be next doing either a photo entry of the house and it's oddities, one of my gossip column o' observations, and a dedication one since it's the new year and overdue. All in time, meanwhile, ration your water, filling up to point of bloat is not the magic key to the doom upon our doorstep. I can't say that whilst annoyingly inconvenient, there is something about the expression on the face of a dog with a pending bladder explosion that doesn't give me a smiling pause. The panic look although quickly turns to "bitch I will piss right here if we can't reach an agreement." Fair enough.
For now, I will kick off one dedication early, for BLD:
My Burning Girl will get it. Only line I don't imply is the one about "him" being untrue, but I suppose that could be interpretive, untrue could be anything from addictions to habits to just being unable to not be a fuck up. Sometimes picking a vice isn't necessarily picking. You have a good thing, or fuck if I know - maybe a comfortable thing, and patience longer than a scain of yarn. As dysfunctional as anyone else, you bet your ass.... so remember walking in that Playa "sand" and smile on the good ok. People get misguided, they change, but vintage is vintage baby and letting go is over-rated and easily recommended too often. Your DM loves you many!
- DM
posted by DMorgan's Zoo at
7:02 PM
4 Comments:
Ohhhhhhh, I'd LOVE to have my toes in some playa sand right now.
Like you, it's been crazy (see, only just reading this on like the 9th or something. I feel like i was supposed to hit the ground running, but am in fact in a stumble heading for the fall. LOL. We'll see.
But to be able to move while adjusting to a new job with a funky schedule - well you've got to know that's amazing. You are excused from all craziness.
I can't wait to see your house!
Yes please, I still have your xmas gift for fucks sake, taaaar-day!
I'm still not 100 percent on the move and no where near 100 percent on the job. I totally dreamed last night that I was back working for Bosslady, as pity part time work. Does that qualify as a nightmare or just my subconscious wanting to go to a comfortable place? Or both? Or fuck it, neither? Odd.
Speaking of tardy! I'm just catching up with all of your new changes. Congrats on the new house and new job. They both sound wonderfully exhausting. I love your ear adornments. Are they working? One of my co-workers sees an acupuncturist (?) in C.C. Wouldn't it be strange if it were your place? Best of luck on both!
You have moved huh?
I wonder if you got my Christmas card then?
Ive been sucking badly about keeping up with anyone's blog, my own included.
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