My riveting weekend. Written by June Gardens. Spent with June Gardens. Because I’m stuck here inside my own self. Which is often mortifying.

I had a busy weekend. The end. Wouldn't that be irritating? If I just said that and hit "post"? I think of all kinds of ways to irritate y'all and then I just go ahead and be my regular self and irritate you anyway. On Friday, I had to tell my temporary workplace "I need … Continue reading My riveting weekend. Written by June Gardens. Spent with June Gardens. Because I’m stuck here inside my own self. Which is often mortifying.

Hulk. Rendering women powerless since–oh, eff it.

Recently, I got the following text from Hulk: "You wanna know the definition of depressing? My unopened box of condoms expired." I am afraid I may have been the wrong audience for this information, as I (a) found it incredibly amusing and (2) immediately asked if I could blog about it. Then I am afraid … Continue reading Hulk. Rendering women powerless since–oh, eff it.

Karaoke singer will survive. As will June.

So this has been a sort of harrowing few days. I hate waiting for medical test results. But finally Monday afternnoon my doctor called and said, "June? All your tests were negative." Which is about the best news you can hear. Other than, "June? This is Barry Gibb. Have finally left that wife of 42 … Continue reading Karaoke singer will survive. As will June.

June tries to read the waffle iron

The Snowflake children down the street got a new puppy. I know. And it's a chihuahua, so you know it will bite someone just like Snowflake did. It's kind of cute, though, in an I'm-a-chihuahua kind of way. June. Repulsing everyone who loves their stupid chihuahua since 2012. And in case you just got here, … Continue reading June tries to read the waffle iron

Where the hell’s my chocolate bunny? MOM? Yes, I am 46.

I actually do not want a chocolate bunny, as I am continuing to attempt thin-ity. Yesterday was a perfect day to achieve thin-ity--and how soon do you hope I give up saying "thin-ity"?--because I got a migraine. I know I posted yesterday and was all perky-sounding, but as I was typing I was thinking, gee, … Continue reading Where the hell’s my chocolate bunny? MOM? Yes, I am 46.

Pink beach. April wine. LaUral humps a puppet.

Sometimes you're hard-pressed to even begin to describe what you did the night before. However, I will try. ...Friend and I got up with Dick Whitman and my pal Jo, in order that perhaps maybe I could fix up my pal Jo with the Dick Whitman. I thought of it all by myself at the … Continue reading Pink beach. April wine. LaUral humps a puppet.