I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too
Ok, I'm back on the stick, on the grid, on the wagon, in the saddle...Here's a recap of the last week and a half. In no particular order.
1. I signed a lease for an apartment. A cute little one bedroom in The Gayborhood with hardwood floors, recessed lighting and a deck. A ten minute walk to The Circus. And I love it.
2. The Canary now has an awning!
3. I passed out at Monday night's Eagles game. I'M FINE. Really. (SFG, thanks for taking care of me. You're a Rock Star.) So things appear to be going well with SFG considering my Damsel-in-Distressedness! (Am I right, SFG? What do you think? In fact, dare I say you found it slightly charming, right? Right?)
4. I have a new suitor at The Circus. I will call him SETI. His cat sends me Myspace messages from her daddy. He made me a work of art with his own hand: a wedding topper with the groom's head cut off and at the bride's feet; the couple is covered by a shot glass. It's magnificent. Yet is frightens me slightly.
5. The Canary has a new product: an eight ounce cupcake. The original name for such a thing as obscene as this was The Phatty (as in 'fat' + 'Philadelphia'), but we felt that it might make some people feel too self conscious and dropped it. Now it's called The 747.
OK, that's it. The Office is on. I'm out. But only 'til next time...real soon next time.
posted by Oy Vey at 8:17 PM
3 Comments:
damn the Benny Hill music - it leaped out at me when I least expected it.
Oh you are BACK...sort of.
That's too bad about the 747...I would have ordered my Phatty with pride. But I went to Rutgers U. undergrad - home of the Fat Sandwich. Where you will hear, "One Fat Bitch with a diet Pepsi, please." with great regularity.
Yay! You're back! I MUST HAVE a phatty. MUST.
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