This is possibly the best thing about Christmas I’ve ever read. Certainly it’s the best thing I’ve read today.
So when the modern world promotes the consumerist image of Santa Claus over the image of Christ, it is not so much the wrath of Christ they should fear as it is the wrath of Santa Claus. He may very well climb down the chimney and wup yo ass.
via the Bad Catholic
When Marc turns 21, I’m driving to Stubenville or wherever, just to buy him a beer.
I’ve often wondered where writers get ideas, but I’ve never asked because hearing their smart-ass answers just frustrates me even more. They can be more creative about where ideas come from than I ever thought was possible.
Fortunately, as a mother, I have at least one idea running about in the wild. (Well, he’s sleeping right now, permitting me the leisure to write this.) This keeps me from feeling too inferior, even if it does take up most of my formerly free time.
But today I found out where ideas come from, because I had one. (An actual, intangible idea, not another baby.) I had the most surreal dream possible, that there just must be a short story hidden inside. The question is, what is it?
I’ll give you a hint. It involves a giant green duck. And it is both far less goofy and more vaguely sinister than that description gives it credit. I’ll try to draw up a picture of the Green Duck later today, just for fun.
I feel like I should post something every day, just to get into the habit. Eventually I intend on going chronologically through all the big stuff that happened this summer, but I overslept today, so no time. Instead I shall regale you with a tale of just how nerdy I can be.
So I was vegetating in front of the TV one day this summer (and by vegetating, I mean working on a counted cross stitch pattern while watching – I am incapable of just sitting in front of the TV) and an ad came on for Vagisil Screening Kits – see if you have a bacterial infection in the comfort and privacy of your own home.
I was intrigued. I wanted to know how this worked. So I bought a kit. You know what it is? A piece of damned pH paper on a stick, complete with the little color chart! Fifteen bucks for two tests. For that money, I could buy a lifetime’s supply of pH paper from Fisher Scientific!
I’m really just grumpy because I thought it’d be something more interesting than pH paper.
My mexican husband is really really hot.
This post brought to you by the letter V, the number 3, and Il Grigio Chianti Classico Reserve 2003.