Jennifer was Right About the Pot Smoking Mr. Rogers Goodwill

Geez, I hate it when she's right; it just makes her bossier next time. I gave the Edmonds Goodwill a thorough going over, and it definitely did not make my list of favorites. I would go there if I lived nearby but even Captain Kangaroo on LSD wouldn't make it worth the long trip. See the pants? I rest my case. Also, it was pretty small. One thing I did like was that the dressing room doors are unlocked so you don't have to get someone to let you in. I despise that about most Goodwills and have never understood why they are so concerned about shoplifting. It's not like they're going to go broke and have to report a loss to the shareholders if someone steals a $6.99 sweater. Or maybe they're concerned about Mr. Rogers toking up in there? I dunno, but it annoys the hell out of me.

They had a good selection of reading glasses, so I snapped up a couple of pairs. I go through those things pretty quickly and recently lost my last pair. They must be somewhere in my office, but I cleaned it up last week and didn't see them. I don't actually NEED reading glasses, you know, but I think they make me look smart. Well, okay, that's a lie. But I do find them to be multi-purpose, and pretty handy for meetings when I am trying to pretend I'm paying attention but am instead exchanging snarky messages with my equally inattentive friends.

And as if that's not enough excitement for one weekend, check out what my dad gave me in the most recent batch of junk he's cleaning out of his house:

I regret to report that my graduating class was quite large, and that the vote was nearly unanimous. My parents were as pleased and proud as you might imagine, though I note they DID save the thing.

That's the Sunday report, friends, I hope you all have a wonderful President's Day and a good week!

So Not Kidding

I came home from work and Lloyd met me in the driveway with his keys in one hand and his ginormous bag of pilot crap in the other hand. He hopped in the car as fast as he could, calling over his shoulder, 'Don't be mad when you go in the house; I was really busy today and didn't have time to do anything and I won't be home until te......' And boy, he was SO NOT KIDDING. I would post pictures but I am genuinely afraid of CPS on this one. Here is a partial list of the carnage:

-huge half-gnawed hunks of cheese in multiple locations

-raw egg wrapped in dirty socks inside a graham cracker box stashed behind the recycling bin

-dirty breakfast and lunch dishes on the table

-at LEAST eight pairs of shoes and boots strewn around the living room plus a few singletons

-rat in the compost (outside; it wasn't quite THAT bad)

-two sets of pajamas, soccer clothes and wet, muddy pants on the couch

-box of raisins smashed into the carpet

-twin peaks of laundry blocking the hall, Mt. Dirty and Mt. Clean

I worked for a solid 2.5 hours, which is pretty much unprecedented, and there were still bits of string and chopped up bits of paper on the living room floor, a container of snails on the counter with the lids off and the snails among the missing, school books and supplies covering the dining room table and floor, and rubber bands shaped like fairies and numbers spread up and down the hall. Oh, and a puddle of pee on the back porch.

I don't care what time he gets home, I am meeting him in the driveway with a taser in one hand and a giant beer in the other, and I am so not kidding.

Things that annoy me

You know what annoys me? When people put up long detailed rants about what annoys them on their blogs: BORING. The only thing more dreary is listening to someone else's long detailed description of a dream. My dreams, of course, are another story entirely. I just had a really fascinating one about my sister's purse, for example. It must have been defective, though, because there was no dead cat in there.

But I find myself in a decidedly cross sort of place right now, what with not knowing what we're going to be doing about, ummm, anything, and I find myself VERY crochety with a sudden urge to catalog my vexations. And since this is my blog and I can bore you if I want to, here are two from today:

1. The local school district. You may know that I have no intention of sending my kids to school. I have always thought that I am more than capable of screwing them up adequately without any government interference, and so I intend to do exactly that. But my sister doesn't have as much confidence in herself and plans to send one of her kids to kindergarten this fall. So, fine. Except that the school district offers only all day kindergarten at their local elementary, but only has the budget for half-day classes. Their solution to this problem is to CHARGE TUITION to the tune of hundreds of dollars per month. HELLO! How can they even do that?!?!?!?

2. Department of Revenue, State of Louisiana. I am not a fan of Louisiana. This is probably not much of a secret. Every year I have to fill out a Louisiana tax return because unfortunately, we still have a house there and have some paltry rental income with a Louisiana source. You might not know that because Louisiana, unlike the rest of the country, has a bunch of weird laws based on the Napoleanic Code, rendering tax software or other do-it-yourself legal software impossible to use there. As a result I have to fill out there stupid six page form by hand and then re-copy it so it's neat. What am I? In third grade? Or in 1976? Anyway, I got a letter from those clowns that says I miscalculated and that they have corrected our return and surprise! I owe them more money. Their new calculations reduced our net Louisiana income by one dollar. Somehow, in Cajunomics, this translates to an increased tax in the amount of eight dollars. HELLO! How can they even do that?!?!?!?

Wankers! They are all wankers! But now I feel a little better, so ta-ta for now.