You’d think I’d be happily plugging away on my Super Sabado, safely enfolded within the friendly arms of CyberBrew Coffee, but no, I am unsettled and forlorn, as I’ve lost my pocketbook, the new one I got to replace the one Mojo ate.
Tiger lent me money for coffee, bless his little 15% per annum heart, so that’s one basic need taken care of, but otherwise I’m driver’s licenseless, proof of auto insuranceless, and ATM and credit cardless, among other things.
I’m sure my pocketbook is at home somewhere, but where? Ah, well. Better finish today’s Super Sabado and worry about it after Tiger gets through with swim practice.
Um, anybody care to cover the today’s order of fajitas? You guys know I’m good for it!
I did not mean to stop on this program, as I am philosophically, ideologically, and pathologically opposed to any reality programming that is not also sports. However, Stacy Keibler was dancing some sort of flamenco piece wearing a barely-there feather-type outfit that showed off her amazingly tan and lightly greased physique, and I could not control the remote until the dance was over because my fingers stopped working. It wasn’t my fault.
Gene Doucette of GenePoool Blog, explaining how he lost track of Spike TV and ended up watching Dancing with the Stars instead.
When the amount of sleep is less than your shoe size, strange things can happen.
The dainty-footed Kait of Kait’s Chaos, who forgets that if Bonnie got more sleep than her shoe size, she’d be in a coma.
To the guys who are reading this post I must tell you that my husband decided to read this one too…and he couldn’t put it down. He read it in two sittings (it would have been one but I MADE him go to sleep!) It is THAT good! Even though it is a “Romance Novel”, the story is so good that you will forget you are reading a “chick book!”
Mimi of Mimi’s Pixie Corner, repeating a line Hubby has heard before and flat-out refuses to fall for again.
Early search engines used simple keyword algorithms, ideally suited to small data sets.
Michelle of Justitia, explaining why, um… er… No fair! She promised us there wouldn’t be any math!
Well, I frogged around all night and now it’s 2 AM…at least 24 was good….I’m waiting for Chloe to pick up an assualt rifle and take out some bad guys again…Hail Chloe…love the look in her eyes!
Bonnie of Bonnie Writes, making us wonder what “frogged” means, and also scaring us a little.
And she was letting him. She arched against him, her hands pressing his back, her breasts crushed tight. She made little, catchy sounds against his mouth. He thought he was going to explode.
A cough and a “carry on,” brought him to his senses.
Bloody hell, he thought, shaken, in another minute I’d have had her down on the floor ripping her clothes off. I’d have taken her right here. Bloody, bloody hell, I’d have taken her standing up.
A few lines from Bernita‘s first (semi) sex scene, and… er, sorry! We got a little distracted. Is it warm in here or what?
What do you do … slog or cheat?
Dennie of Dennie’s Thoughts, asking a question we’ve often asked ourselves whilst alternately eyeing the area rug and that pile of bulldog hair we just swept up.
Hey, Dennie! WHILST!
The bottom line is, I have to cut the crap and just do it.
April of Desperate Writer, who slogs.
So she takes my hat… and stuffs it down the back of her pants.
Annie, who cheats. (As reported to us by her boyfriend Chris from My Mean Girl).
Nipples, damn it! Does there have to be another reason?
Douglas of Balls and Walnuts, on, um… we’re not sure, ’cause we got distracted again.
Postscript: I really am proud of myself for not using the word “hate,” especially in a sentence that also contains “Cox Cable.”
Teri of Here’s to Happy Women, being proud of herself too soon.
I was flicking through the music channels, stopped at MTV for a little while before mumbling to myself “Gansta my ass, what a heap of shite” and flicked through to VH1. My head started bouncing to a couple of tracks from the past. Classic stuff, quality stuff … I even hummed a little and the foot started tapping. I was so preoccupied, I didn’t notice the last vestiges of my youth leave by the front door.
And let’s give a hearty welcome to the Old Fogie’s Club to Gary Shewan of Gpshewan.com. And as long as he keeps his Depends clean, he’ll always be welcome here.
The poodle started to howl, and the crowd mimics it. The sNarc covers her ears as Mark’s armor begins to wildly reverberate and create a thunderous sound effect. I amble down into the screaming throngs, completely certain I have first place firmly by the bag. Then that stuck-up showoff, * *** *********, flounces up to the mike and makes rude squelching noises with her armpits.
I end up second place.
E. Ann Bardawill, on how a certain anonymous literary agent pushed her out of first place in JA’s “impromptu rude poetry readings or cheesy sing-a-longs” contest.
Now, as a rule, human, along with pig, lamb, shellfish, horse, dog, cat, monkey and a host of other critters, is not on my menu. But stick me in the frigid north with nothing to eat but my shoe leather and I assure you, “Human, it’s what’s for dinner.”
Pat Kirby of Ramblings from the desert, on the main reason it’s probably best to turn down any invitations to an Alaskan cruise with the Kirbys.
Not for them however the ex-local authority flat in multi-cultural, inner-city Wandsworth. No, they have gone right to the heart of the vibrant West End, in Soho, just a short stroll from Ronnie Scott’s.
Sister Jane asked me to join her for an evening in the area of the proposed purchase to see how safe she would feel at night, check out the noise levels and general street scene. We met in Kettner’s for a pre-prandial glass of champagne and then off to Soho Spice for a Time’s “Eat out for a Tenner” deal where Mary joined us.
Mark McLellan of Gullible’s Travels, who lives a much tastier life than anybody I know.
For those of you who’ve made it through to the very end, here’s something fun to see you off: a live-action version of the opening sequence to The Simpsons.
Have a good weekend, everyone!
LOL…
My feet aren’t that tiny. Bigger now since kidlets.
I’ll snag the fajitas.
What a nice trip around the blogsphere. Amazing, fun and spicy. Had to turn off the heat.
Now my world is shiny. I got my Super S fix.
Now to raid the cupboard for some candy.
Thanks for picking up the tab, Kait!
I found my pocketbook, hooray! After going through our trashcans, I found it stuffed in a canvas bag hanging on a doorknob. Just one of the many ways we clean here in la Casa de Wren: canvas bags hanging on every doorknob, all of them chock full off missing items.
It looks like Teri got rid of the post I linked to, but it’s still showing up in my RSS feed.
Woohoooo! You found it.
Always more than happy to pick up the tab.
Happy Saturday!
I just found my car keys after three days of using my husband’s set–you know, the ones with no house key and no cute toggle-thing shaped like a dog bone to attach them to my pants or bag handle with.
I mean, you KNOW they’re at home, because after all, you drove the car home, but…
Whilst still cracks me up! 🙂
I can’t help myself, i am supposed to be working but instead, i am transfixed blog jumping….evil Super Sabadoo!!
Hope y’all are having a top weekend 🙂
All I can say is “Ribbit!”
Did you look for the new wallet…under Mojo…he may be saving it for a snack for Monday!
Bonnie
Thanks for the mention 🙂
Meant to respond to Monday Morning Mojo No. 22 about pocketbooks but it has been a busy week. It seems US pocketbooks are the same as UK purses, certainly if Mary’s and yours are anything to go by. They both have the same Tardis Circuit fitted which means they are “a lot bigger on the inside than the outside”.
Toodle-pip!