A random, stream of consciousness post:
My husband thinks I should have my own cooking show on the Food Network where I try to make things without reading the recipe all the way through.
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My cats are assholes. I was tired of the disgusting smells emanating from the litter box, so I got them a new litter as recommended by my friend Deena who has much experience with cats through fostering and owning her own. It's actually horse bedding, pine pellets that absorb all odor and make the basement smell like a hamster cage. They hate it. Hate it. HAAAAAATE it. One of them (or more, as they don't sign their work, it's impossible to know) has pooped beside the litter box on the floor and on the throw rug in the downstairs bathroom. I am shaken but not beaten; eventually, I WILL prevail.
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Speaking of hamsters, I once wrote that I had two dead hamsters in a toilet paper tube in the freezer of my downstairs refrigerator. They were awaiting interment at the lake house (where the ground is sandy and easy to dig in), but we kept forgetting, so there they stayed for, oh, maybe five years. A few weeks ago, the refrigerator died and everything inside the freezer thawed. Everything. The hamsters are no longer awaiting burial and are now entombed at the landfill. Sorry, hamsters, I meant well.
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Anyone know an easy way to make the neighbor's car alarm stop honk, honk, honking the horn ENDLESSLY? Asking for a friend....
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My husband just stood in front of me, looked down at me with my laptop open, my phone, my OLD phone, and my Nook lined up on the arm of the chair, and said, "You've got $1,000 worth of candy crushing machines sitting here in front of you." CANDY CRUSHING IS SERIOUS BUSINESS! WHEN WILL YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?!
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As I was getting gas this afternoon, I took a styrofoam cup out of the car to throw away and dropped the damn thing onto the pavement instead, at which time it promptly rolled under the car. Not barely under the car, either, but smack in the center. Most people would have left it there, but I'm no litterer, so I took the squeegee, got on my hands and knees, and eventually hooked that sonofabitch cup with the end of the squeegee and fished it out while simultaneously flashing my underpants to the folks driving past the gas station when my jeans slid down during my struggle.
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Have you ever been in a waiting room and the nurse comes to the door and calls your first name and you get up and start walking towards her at the same time someone else does the same thing, and come to find out, there are two of you with the same name, but you aren't the one they want, so you have to slink back to your seat with everyone watching? Yeah, me, either....
My husband and I were in the car the other day and passed a dog grooming business called, "Stylin' Doggie." I thought it would have been infinitely more entertaining if the name had been "Doggie Stylin'" instead, and my husband said I probably shouldn't be in the business-naming business.
Random enough fer ya?