We never see Fred Flintstone getting ON the dinosaur, just sliding off at 5:00 on the dot.

What are your feelings about being on time for work? Continue reading “We never see Fred Flintstone getting ON the dinosaur, just sliding off at 5:00 on the dot.”

Doctor Who?

Yesterday I got a new doctor.

If you consult your Big Book of June Events, you’ll recall that I have some…trouble with keeping medical professionals. Doctors are my Spinal Tap drummer. Continue reading “Doctor Who?”

Been through the country with a dog with no name

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Six years ago, when I interviewed for my current job, they said, “The other copy editor on this account is a poet! A fancy, famous, celebrated poet!” They said this like it was a good thing, all smiley, and I was all, Oh, fucking fuck. Continue reading “Been through the country with a dog with no name”

Pom wonderful

Perhaps you’re wondering, “Did our dear friend June expire? Is she on the other side of the grass? Feeling the silk?” It always kills me when I say that and someone out there doesn’t get it. You’re dead. In the coffin. The silk-lined–oh, forget it.

Anyway, it’s my head–it’s been giving me trouble. Am on day 9 of waking up with a migraine, and let me tell you, it’s put me in a MOOD. So since the last few days have been a bit of a blur, of just me trying to get through the day as normally as I can while I wish to FEEL THE SILK (“I don’t get it, June”), I will just go through all the photos I’ve taken in the last couple days to guide me so I have anything to talk to you about except my agony. MY AGONY! I just fell to my knees dramatically. As opposed to falling to one’s knees not dramatically.

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I’ve no idea when this was, but I assure you I was wishing for my demise.
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Aw. Mrs. Iris’s injuries are healing nicely, really. She seems unscathed. Bounced right back. Back to being Iris, the Sightless Killing Machine.

The other night, though, I got up in the night to get water or heroin or something and I accidentally closed Steely Dan in a door. He didn’t make a sound as he tore off, appalled, but now whenever we’re going through a door together, he waits till I’ve passed the door frame first. You can’t blame him. Also, stop being so smart, cat.

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They’re selling Pollyanna’s house, across the street. She died in 2015. They’re also selling the house of Paul, my sitting on his glider neighbor, alive fmr., down the street a bit.

Every time one of my older neighbors dies, younger couples move in and fix the place up. So while it’s sad, it’s also kind of good for my ‘hood. I just said ‘hood. Cause I’m so street. Word up.

I do miss Paul. Whenever I’m walking Edsel, when I pass his house I get wistful. We used to go sit on his glider with him and talk. He was lovely.

IMG_6792IMG_6795When I get home from work, some nights Dr. Laura is good so I stay in the car to listen to the whole call–and may I interrupt this thought to say Dr. Laura is an asshole? However, that doesn’t mean I’m not riveted. You don’t think I know some of you hate-read me the same way I hate-listen to Dr. L? Puleeeze. Also, you think I care? Go on ahead wit’cher hatey self. Now go do the right thing.

The point is, Steely Dan has taken to jumping on the car when I get home, and climbing though the window if it’s down. Then he likes to prowl about my car while Dr. Laura humiliates another person who just wants advice. Oh my god, a hateful woman, she is.

The Poet at work is getting two new dogs tonight! She’s a Pomeranian person. Her last two dogs, which covered, like, the last 32 years of her life, were Poms. Now tonight she and I are driving all over yonder to meet and possibly (pfft. probably) adopt a mother and daughter Pom duo. So some of us at work got a little collection going, a baby shower of sorts, where she did not have to be the center of attention, as that is not her thing.

I found her those Pomeranian notecards, in case she wants to write other Pomeranians. I wonder if Pomeranians are Armenian? Because Marvin once pointed out to me that all Armenian last names rhyme with Armenian, and that has stuck with me.

IMG_6762.PNGBeing on WordPress is exciting, and not just because someone at their help desk reads this blog and has been ridiculously helpful these weeks and should get, like, a work award for all the assistance she’s given me. But also cause it gives me all kinds of stats, such as who comments the most (Laura T) and who looks at what categories, if you’re so inclined to read my blog by category.

It would appear …friend/Ned is the top category, and how can that be more interesting than my pets, who do all sorts of fascinating things?

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weee fassinateeng

Look at poor beleaguered Edsel, who had to take all Lottie’s toys, fmr., out of the hole she dug in that bed in order to hide said toys. Not only did they make his bed lumpy, he never plays with anything but Blu, so they’re all for naught. That terrible day that Lottie left, I tried to gather as many of her accoutrements as I could find, not knowing she’d created this bunker, this storage unit, till weeks later.

He looks clean, though, doesn’t he? That bath did him a world of good. I mean, I guess that’s a matter of opinion. Depends who you ask, here.

Okay, I gotta go. I’m going to work and then getting right on the road to steal me some teensy floofy dogs. I suggested the names Pom-Pom and Mediterranean the Pomeranian, but no one listens to me.

Your favorite hate read,

Juan

Aura. And not one of mystery.

I have a ding-dang aura. If you are not a migraine person, and aura is this zigzag pattern in your field of vision, rendering you pretty much blind. It will go away after a while, but I literally can’t see the screen to type you. I’m speaking into my phone.

Also, Lily is in my lap, taking full advantage of the fact that I am prone.

Since I can’t see, talk amongst yourselves. What is the one thing in your life you wish you were doing differently?

The peppermint tea prossy

When we left off, it was only effing Friday afternoon of my Easter weekend and I decided not to torment you with more detail, so here I am tormenting you with more detail today instead.

You’re welcome. Continue reading “The peppermint tea prossy”

June plays it safe with an unoffensive title

So far this Easter weekend I’ve had to call the emergency number for the gas company so that I wouldn’t blow up, told Ned we have to not talk for a few months, put up a bat house, heard from two men from my past, and ordered two new bras. 36D in the howse! Actually, 36D in the mail. Continue reading “June plays it safe with an unoffensive title”

I Love/Hate Living Alone

Last night I had a migraine, and it wasn’t all that bad, but bad enough that I felt rotten. When you have a migraine, “rotten” is a relief. It’s way better than other times when you pray for the good Lord to bring you on home. Continue reading “I Love/Hate Living Alone”

A quarter of you are still Team Ned. Really.

Yesterday, I discovered this site lets you create surveys right here, without having to traipse over to Survey Monkey or whatever. So I tried to embed one in my blog, couldn’t figure it out, but DID figure out how to share my survey on Facebook, which means really I coulda just gone to Survey Monkey.

Ooooo, and before I go on with that riveting story, Continue reading “A quarter of you are still Team Ned. Really.”

Justice for Iris

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ThisĀ  is the only picture I took yesterday, of me and one of the many millennials at work, during our first-thing-Monday-morning meeting. Which, who decides to have that?

Me taking just one picture in a day is a clear indicator of what a SUCK-ASS BUSY day it was, Continue reading “Justice for Iris”