small and silly

Can I first just say that I love the spam comments that are caught up in my filter here?  Because ” largest plump tail german adulteresses” and  ” giant swedish senioritas with bums” are both pretty freaking hilarious.

Secondly, I have drunk a whole 6-pack and it’s not even 9:00, and I feel sort of decadent and yet shameful, like I should have curlers in my hair and a half-ash cigarette hanging out of my mouth and be swatting my kid (who is at my mother’s having a sleepover part-ay, hence the beers) with a wooden spoon.  But I also feel sort of woozy and wobbly and realize this is why I tend to nurse my beers.  This, and New Year’s when, in my vodka haze (when I discovered that, yes, Victoria, there is a good vodka if you pay more than $10 for a bottle!) I was sure the fireworks somebody was setting off were thunder and got all confused.  Ahem.  This here is why we do not post tipsy, people.   LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU.  I know I had Wisdom To Impart, but this is not it.   Really, I did, I had a post and it got lost in that last sip as I pondered Go Fug Yourself and the pants that god should never have allowed to exist.  Seriously, click that link.  You, too, will forget what you were just doing and have to drown the sorrow of those pants in beers.  Though, damn, I wish I had those thighs.  Damn!