... which is why my feet smell like gum. If you were wondering.
**A warning, added after writing: I'm apparently feeling a bit saltier than normal this evening. Apologies to those readers with delicate sensibilities. You may just want to tune in tomorrow, when I go back to talking about tatting.**
The squirrels are out in full jittery force these days, and that's how I would like you to think of me. I am your blogging squirrel, out in the cold, wet world gathering little nuggets ("nuts," if you will), pausing when I can to bring them to you. And so, sans ado, here are my nuts:
1) Here are two phrases I found for you:
* "banana tycoon"
* "faith-filled intercessory prayer warriors"
2) Here is a quick bunch of stuff about this weekend's road trip:
*The Smokies are beautiful.
*We ran out of gas, right in the middle of a switchback. We were saved from certain death by a grubby, grumpy angel subcontracted by AAA.
*I profess to understand that our dogs are not children, but I really don't mean it.
3) Here is a spontaneous product endorsement:
Vaseline Lip Therapy Cherry Flavor. It is great. I put it on every night before bed, and it's to the point where I can't really be comfortable without it, which I attributed to silly old habit, but after going without it for a whole two nights, it became painfully clear that, no. I need it. It is great.
Addendum:
Burt's Bees lip balm may be nicely packaged and cooling and soothing and all that, but it does not take away chappedness. No sir.
4) Here's a mini-essay about Yahoo! and how Yahoo! can suck my balls. I mean nuts.
This is the message I got upon trying to go to the Yahoo! Mail sign-in page:
Now, you might say that I wasn't in the greatest frame of mind when attempting to collect all my junk mail, but it is accurate to say that even fresh off some highly pleasurable experience this text would rub me the wrong way. I could ignore the "yay yay yay Yahoo! is upgrading!!!" nonsense way back whenever that was, but "Bummer?" What, Yahoo!, are you stoned and just realizing the vending machine in the basement is out of Cool Ranch Doritos? My "hot little hands"? Waiting list??? I didn't want to say this, but Yahoo!...
I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.
God. I just don't care if you're upgrading. Seriously. Please, please stop telling me about it. Or just stick to the slightly annoying proclamations of wonderfulness, that's tolerable. Sure, I get a little jab in the eye every time you ask me if I "wanna share" your trophy. I don't wanna share your trophy. I wanna delete my spam. But I can deal with that. But you put page of "oh boo hoo for you maybe you can be cooler next time with my sweet-ass upgrade" between me and my spam, before my morning organic pop-tart, and that's really awfully infuriating.
I was going to have this whole other point about how I've stopped reading your news articles and almost stopped checking my spam because of those God fucking awful ads with the silhouettes dancing on the rooftops (ooh, mortgage rates, me so horny)... but I feel that I'd laid into you enough with the whole Beta page thing. So.
5) And, finally, my favorite exchange from the weekend:
Me: Fabric shops.
Him: Fudgesicles?
The squirrels are out in full jittery force these days, and that's how I would like you to think of me. I am your blogging squirrel, out in the cold, wet world gathering little nuggets ("nuts," if you will), pausing when I can to bring them to you. And so, sans ado, here are my nuts:
1) Here are two phrases I found for you:
* "banana tycoon"
* "faith-filled intercessory prayer warriors"
2) Here is a quick bunch of stuff about this weekend's road trip:
*The Smokies are beautiful.
*We ran out of gas, right in the middle of a switchback. We were saved from certain death by a grubby, grumpy angel subcontracted by AAA.
*I profess to understand that our dogs are not children, but I really don't mean it.
3) Here is a spontaneous product endorsement:
Vaseline Lip Therapy Cherry Flavor. It is great. I put it on every night before bed, and it's to the point where I can't really be comfortable without it, which I attributed to silly old habit, but after going without it for a whole two nights, it became painfully clear that, no. I need it. It is great.
Addendum:
Burt's Bees lip balm may be nicely packaged and cooling and soothing and all that, but it does not take away chappedness. No sir.
4) Here's a mini-essay about Yahoo! and how Yahoo! can suck my balls. I mean nuts.
This is the message I got upon trying to go to the Yahoo! Mail sign-in page:
Coming soon to a screen near you!
Bummer. It doesn't look like the new Yahoo! Mail Beta
is available for you just yet. It's nothing personal,
we promise -- we're simply rolling it out gradually
for the time being. But rest assured you can get your
hot little hands on it soon.
In the meantime, sign up on the beta waiting list and
we'll keep you posted on release dates.
For now, you can check your email in the original
Yahoo! Mail
Now, you might say that I wasn't in the greatest frame of mind when attempting to collect all my junk mail, but it is accurate to say that even fresh off some highly pleasurable experience this text would rub me the wrong way. I could ignore the "yay yay yay Yahoo! is upgrading!!!" nonsense way back whenever that was, but "Bummer?" What, Yahoo!, are you stoned and just realizing the vending machine in the basement is out of Cool Ranch Doritos? My "hot little hands"? Waiting list??? I didn't want to say this, but Yahoo!...
I DON'T GIVE A FUCK.
God. I just don't care if you're upgrading. Seriously. Please, please stop telling me about it. Or just stick to the slightly annoying proclamations of wonderfulness, that's tolerable. Sure, I get a little jab in the eye every time you ask me if I "wanna share" your trophy. I don't wanna share your trophy. I wanna delete my spam. But I can deal with that. But you put page of "oh boo hoo for you maybe you can be cooler next time with my sweet-ass upgrade" between me and my spam, before my morning organic pop-tart, and that's really awfully infuriating.
I was going to have this whole other point about how I've stopped reading your news articles and almost stopped checking my spam because of those God fucking awful ads with the silhouettes dancing on the rooftops (ooh, mortgage rates, me so horny)... but I feel that I'd laid into you enough with the whole Beta page thing. So.
5) And, finally, my favorite exchange from the weekend:
Me: Fabric shops.
Him: Fudgesicles?
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