I gots to go. I have to get in the car, drive to freaking Raleigh, get on a plane and fly to Michigan. I'm running for president and thought I'd better get on the campaign trail.
That would so be how I'd run for president. Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it. I'll campaign.
Anyway, my mother is having an election night party that I will be attending seeing as I am there and all. And then tomorrow is her 90th birthday.
One of the millennials from work is pet-sitting, and she came over yesterday to met everyone and Edsel plans to devote his life to making her happy.
Here's Ned's front porch Sunday morning. The people next door have the best tree in the whole neighborhood. You can't really see it, but his Halloween skeleton cat is on the table, there.
Wait, June. Sunday morning?
I went over there for some flour. I went over there to pick him up for church. I went over there cause I'd made a big batch of muffins and wondered if he wanted any. I went over there to snake his sink. I went over there for our Sunday morning singalong and jazz hands hour.
All right, I gotta go. But don't forget to vote, if you haven't. Please note I voted early and did not make you look at my I Voted sticker, nor did I take a selfie with my ballot–a ballottee–a selfott–nor did I announce on social media that I voted and what a wonderful person I was for supporting [insert veiled reference to how bad the other candidate is here].
It's a sad day when I'm the least-obnoxious person around.
Talk to you later, when I'd really love to discuss Frisco and Felicia from General Hospital, a thing we ended up talking about on Facebook the other night and now I am obsessed. I'd also like to discuss the Jeff/Heather/Annie triangle, Monica and Alan, and everything about Robert Scorpio plus also not to mention incidentally The Floating Rib.
Lady of my heart. Tell me who you are.
See? Obsessed. I got Lasa Fever.
P.S. Do NOT forget to remind me to tell you (wow, June) about the bee attack at Boston Market. Why so sizeable, June?
P.P.S. The Ice Princess
P.P.P.S. Mikkos Cassadine
P.P.P.P.S. Ima miss my damn plane