Because so many of you had so much to say about Vern–the man in my new masthead–yesterday, I thought I would delight you with a picture of said Vern in his Speedo.
What says fashionable like some tighty goldies and your loafers? I don't know why I assume his…trunks…are gold, they just look gold to me.
That said, lay off Vern! I love Norma and Vern, even though I don't actually know them. And he is not the kind of uncle who makes you search his pockets for candy, whoever said that yesterday. Cut it out.
Speaking of my comments and such, now I know how to make the people who subscribe to me on Google Reader leave that danglity site and actually come on over; I have to redesign my blog!
My sitemeter doesn't count the people who are reading me from Google Reader. And I always thought, "I wonder how many people REALLY read me every day if you include those Google Reader people?"
Well, I don't always think that. Sometimes I think about the cinnamon buns in the vending machine at work, and occasionally I think about Dr. Laura. Because I listen to her on my drive home and she is just so mean.
Why so angry, Dr. Laura?
The other thing I thought about today was my grandmother and another one of her lines. We were out of soap in the women's bathroom today, so I refused to go in there. I mean, I could scurry back to my office and wash my hands in the sink there, but I really didn't want to touch the doorknobs that everyone else had touched soap-free.
Yes, I am Howard Hughes without the money. Would you like a jar of urine?
Seriously, you could almost have had one today, because my choices were (a) go to the no-soap-radio bathroom or (4), go to the other bathroom with no soundproofing whatsoever. Honestly, I can hear people rustle papers while I'm in there. I do not wish to provide sound effects.
Or, (C3PO), my last choice was to go downstairs to the first floor and use the bathroom there, which involves not only going down the steps but also walking a few paces outside. It was 74 degrees here today.
You'd think choice C3PO involved putting on my snowsuit and strapping on some GU and trail mix, so put off was I by the thought of having to go downstairs to that bathroom. Have I mentioned I have run marathons? Hence my reference to GU.
Seriously, both times I went down there today I was in such dire straits I barely made it.
Which made me think of Gramma. She had arthritis, and bad knees, and was all crippled up, and truth be told girlfriend was not that old. She died at age 68, so we're talking she was this bad off at 59 or so. At any rate, her one bathroom was allllll the way upstairs, and she'd sit there and watch her stories, and she'd say, "Oh, I have to go to the bathroom."
Then like an HOUR later, she'd say, "I know I gotta go up there but it pains me so, ya know it?" Ending her sentences in "ya know it?" was a big thing with Gramma.
Finally, TWO HOURS after her initial announcement, she struggle up. "Horse-shit sailor," she'd say, "I gotta pee so bad I can taste it." And then she'd creep creep creep up those stairs to her Dove-and-Prell-and-cigarette-scented bathroom.
You know, she had five kids and like 20 grandkids. We couldn't have pooled our money and gotten that poor woman a downstairs facility? Poor Gramma. But anyway, I thought of her pee quote and I wanted to say it but it didn't seem appropriate for work.
But for YOU guys…