On Saturday we helped my parents decorate their Christmas tree. And my mom made lasagna. And it was so good I cried inside.
It’s just not Christmas unless I am competing with the tree for attention.
The tree looked more handsome, though.
As did the man I married.
We capped it all off with the obligatory “scarring of the retinas,” without which no trip to Burnaby is complete. We think this dress was actually made from recycled margarine tubs.
(title bastardized from a line from “underwhelmed” by sloan, the best rock band in the universe)
This morning I got an email from a mr. magic elf who wanted me to go to his website and order some of his “sluty wives.” He also wished me a Marry Christmas.
Oh, I just got that.
I love Scary Duck. I think I found this site two years ago and then never went back to it. I don’t remember how I got there this time but it sure makes me smile. And not just because of the whole “duck” thing. It’s less of a thing? More of a…relationship.
Ever hear the car commercial on the radio (probably not, as we used to hear it on CISL 650, which is the Old People Station) with the old codger describing a soccer mom in glowing terms; “She picks up the groceries, then picks up the kids from soccer practice. When they get home, she makes them a nice cup of cocoa. She checks their homework and tucks them in at night.” And then the backup singers, who might be left over from Lawrence Welk’s Musical Family,(holy crap that hair) sing the name of the car dealership and the old codger says, “People don’t buy cars, they buy relationships.”
That’s what I’ve got with ducks.
A few minutes ago, a co-worker came to tell me that the tugboats in Burrard Inlet were circling slowly to mourn their murdered colleague. I got up to have a look just as they all sounded their horns. It was the spookiest, most heart-rending sound. The boats were keening. With their slow, silent procession, they were hanging their heads with sadness and respect. It was terribly beautiful.
Three weeks ago I went to a walk-in clinic for my sore throat that never became a cold. The diagnosis took place after a quick flashlight down the throat and an interrogation. The doctor then said, “Looks like tonsillitis. I will give you some antibiotics.†Only after filling the prescription did I remember what I had read about sore throats being due either to viruses or bacteria and how it is impossible to tell the difference between the two unless a test is done. I was a little iffy about taking the antibiotics for what might be a viral and thus incurable infection, especially considering that a lot of the theory behind the Chin Itch points to an overabundance of yeast which can be attributed to the overuse of antibiotics. However, in light of my history with strep throat, I decided to take the drugs and about ten minutes later, the infection went away. I continued taking the drugs because I know how important it is to take antibiotics right to the end. I did not want to tempt a giant super-tonsillitis bacterial invasion of my throat.
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Here’s how it will go:
Me: Hi I’m doing a fundraiser for homeless puppies who lost their parents to simian foamy virus?
Person A: Awwwwww
Person B: SO sad!
Me: Yeah, so would you like to buy a 50/50 ticket? For my fundraiser?
Person A: Sure, I’ll give you some money
Person B: Here is ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!
Me: Right on! The puppies say “woof woof!”
Person A: Awwwwwww
Person B: Poor PUPPIES!
Me: I’ll let you know if you win.
Repeat with random persons until enough money raised to buy
THIS because I need it.
