My Wiener Has a First Name
It’s O. S. C. A. R.
"When I do not want to say things in real life I often say them here." — Mimi Smartypants
It’s O. S. C. A. R.
Yesterday, on a gray and chilly afternoon on a neighbor’s patio, we chaired the HOA’s annual general meeting. We were hoping we’d be fired, but no such luck.
“Hey,” I said to her as I walked out, “that was kind of fun.”
We’re all assholes in real life. Thank goodness some of us are capable of producing great art in spite of it.
The library sent an email to remind us a book Donna borrowed is coming due. I told her I’d take it back when she’s done. I must have uttered the L-word, because Mister B jumped down from the couch and ran to the back door, which leads to the garage, wherein waits the truck and […]
There’s no way I’d eat at a buffet or salad and soup bar now, commercial or homegrown. And I seriously doubt I’ll ever be able to bring myself to do so again even if there’s a vaccine (especially with the number of people who swear they won’t take it), which basically means never again.
I’m on my own but there are leftovers in the fridge and I shan’t want for entertainment.
Got up at 5 AM to spray a wasp nest under the eaves over our breezeway, something you definitely don’t want to do when they’re awake and alert.