Cancer insurance. For the love of God.
In other news, today manly Marvin and our friend Ray, who is engaged to my friend The Other June, finally cleaned up the tree that fell down in our back yard after the Christmas storm.
The were very masculine out there, Ray and Marvin. I am certain they may have even spitted. And cursed. And elbowed each other and made lewd gestures. I stayed inside and worried about my cancer insurance.
1990 called. Wants its model reference back.
Do you know what irks me? We can never just say "model" anymore. People always have to say "supermodel." Which, hi, not everyone is a supermodel. Some people are just models. It has taken that term and made it meaningless, along with "genius" and "unique."
Did I tell y'all I heard Barry Gibb say "quite unique" in an interview recently? I am chosing to forgive him for this transgression. He is a supermodel. And a genius.
Anyway, I guess that is all I have to tell you, except I got a new book to proofread yesterday and it is the elusive nursing book I have been dying to proof for the last nine years of working for this company. They have me edit their catalog, and they talk about the nursing book in that catalog, and I always think, How come I never get to proof a new edition of that thing?
So yesterday my dreams came true. I cannot wait to get all new diseases, along with my Mutual of Omaha cancer.
Oh, and Paula H&B is comment of the week. Although it was hard to chose from all of the crude comments we left yesterday. We were on fire yesterday in those comments. Fire. I'm-drivin'-in-your-car-you-turn-on-the-radio fire.
You know it's a good song when they have to emphasize the wrong syllable to make the word fit. Ra-di-O.
Okay, I'm glad we had this talk. Bye.