All I'm Saying Is
If You're Not Going To Wear Pants,
Why Bother Wearing A Jacket And Tie?

Well I don't know about you, but I had the best weekend I've had in years. Or at least since last weekend when I cleaned the litter box and watched 22 consecutive episodes of some TV show, one of those shows with the names. You know, like Felicity or Drew Carey or Oprah or Dr. Phil. Yes, there was definitely a name involved. But enough about that.
My weekend. Was fabulous. Not in the While Out Picking Strawberries In A Field Michael Vartan Asked Me If He Could Be My CIA Handler And Play Hockey With Him When I'm Done Having His French Babies kinda way, but in the Being An Accessory To Grand Theft And Then Going Out For Coffee At 2am, Meeting A Radio DJ Who Gave Me Free Tickets To A Concert Just Because He Thought I Was "one cute costume change after another," Falling Asleep To Porky "Pantless" Pig kinda way.

I think I just threw up a little bit while rereading that. Yeah. Yummy. This is why I don't blog on a more regular basis. I induce vomiting. Well that and the fact that here at Shadybrook we're only allowed a certain amount of time on the computer before the day staff makes us create more paper Mache donkeys.

Someone is going to ask you a question today.
The answer is "Cucumbers and hay."

5 Things You'll Never Hear Me Say,
And Not Just Because I'm A Mime

1. I NEED a bottle of that new J. Lo perfume.
(Who knew they could bottle that I'mASadHookerLookAtMeLookAtMeOkFineLookAtMyAss scent?!)


2. I'm thinking about selling flowers out of a van on the side of the highway.
For like... money. For like... beads. For like... making earrings.


3. It's too bad Bobby Brown turned out to be a coked-out wife beater. He was really going places, you know?


4. No thanks, I'm not really into salad tongs or monkeys.


5. Sure, it's fine; bring the cereal box into the bathroom.
I know how engrossing the boxes can be and I know it seems urgent that you get Fred Flintstone out of that maze he's stuck in on the back of the Fruity Pebbles box, but umm, HE ISN'T REAL and that means he isn't really trapped in a cardboard maze, and
fortheloveofgod, if you feel the need to rescue him anyway, do it in the kitchen. Amen.


Right. Well. I have to go feed my llama.