Random Monday Morning
I'm going to make observations. First, let's look out the window on the north side of the house. Better yet, let's go out on the porch and see.
The neighbors are preparing to paint their house. I always wonder if those who own a large home realize how much square footage they have to cover. I've done it. I know. Our neighbor, a svelte short haired woman, married, with two teenage daughters, stands on her porch, talking to the paint scraping guys. Scraping paint sucks. I've done that too, and if you want to farm out part of the paint job, the scraping would be my choice. She's worried about lead based paint (Insert dramatic crescendo here), so tarps and other protective sheets, tied to stakes, shield the earth from those devilish paint flakes.
Wifey-Do suddenly realized she has an assignment due today. She's supposed to record herself having a therapeutic session with someone who exhibits risky behavior. I've been volunteered as the subject. I'm supposed to pretend. The flavors? Drugs and promiscuity. I prefer to pick my own.
I noticed that Amber's latest video got only one comment (so far). Mine. She stands up and lets the viewer see her T-shirt ( 0_0 ) and she gets one comment. WTF, did everybody leave the planet? I know it's spring break, but that's no excuse. Oh well, I'll back her up. I'm reminded of something from long ago, so I'll post about it tomorrow and link to her video.
I watched again and saw her orange cat walk by. It has a ringed tail like a raccoon. That reminds me, I haven't seen my orange cat in weeks. Ah, there he is.
13 comments:
The scrapers are wearing bunny suits and resperatiors. What is that house covered with? Chernobyl latex? I guess LBPs are serious business.
(I'm talking to myself, if you haven't figured that out)
How about that Q and A the wife wants to do? When will that get done?
Tendencies. Hmm.
I'll take anger and suicide for $1000, Alex.
Did I spell Cherrynoboyle right?
I misspelled respirator.
Goddammit. We're pissed. We can't spell. They'll know. They'll see and they'll know. And the blogs stats are shit. We're all alone! We're alone and we can't spell.
How does that make you feel?
Like an imposter. But we're not! We're valid! We have something to say. You know what it is? They don't give you shit until after you're dead. That's what it is. They look at you and say, wow, that was a pretty sharp fucker. Too bad he's dead. You know what we're going to do? We're going to march over to the neighbor and eat the paint right off the side of that fuckin' house!
I'll bring some wiskey to wash it down. Too bad the color is so drab. I would rather die over a butter yellow or mauve than taupe.
Where's the wife at? She had better get her academic ass over here. We can't keep this up forever, you know.
Any viewers? Eh? Jump in.
I'm going to take a nap.
Re: We can't spell. They'll know. They'll see and they'll know. And the blogs stats are shit. We're all alone! We're alone and we can't spell.
That is my story, too.
At least your hits aren't all 0 seconds. I don't know what they're looking for (because I can't use the script that tracks that on my LJ) but whatever it is, I don't got it.
These comment exchanges remind me of when I used to do this with my self. If I wasn't such a wussy, I'd do it again. I seem to be skipping the commentary part and heading straight for the naps.
Oh no, we get a lot of 0 second looks. We see the referring site, a search for bike parts, or the blogger main page. Sometimes we don't know where they came from either.
i don't get the info about what they're searching for - i wish i did - would be interesting. they used to offer it without the javascript - that, or LJ used to allow a certain level of it. either way, I have no clue what people are looking for unless they linger awhile and click onto other pages within my site. bummer, really, as I'm a curious sort.
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