Mrs. June Butterworth takes her own sweet time

I didn't MEAN to steal breakfast, but I did. We had a thing at work where, if you brought in cans of food for the less fortunate, you got a free breakfast that they'd ordered in from somewhere. But, see, we had all these snow days and I literally didn't leave my house for four … Continue reading Mrs. June Butterworth takes her own sweet time

June reviews her Christmas dates, and she’s plum tired. BAH.

Last night, I went to bed at 10 to 8:00. That's the nice thing about migraine--you get your rest. I am in a streak, a migraine streak, since before I left for Michigan. I've had a damn migraine every day since Sunday. Welcome back to Greensboro! So, last night, I trudged home gingerly, as opposed … Continue reading June reviews her Christmas dates, and she’s plum tired. BAH.

LDV

I have a new thing that bugs me: Women using that video-making feature where their eyes are huge, and their lips are gigantic, and their voices are distorted. Perhaps you're hilarious, person making a video while sitting in a car, which, woooo! How could you NOT be, with that original venue? But I see that … Continue reading LDV

If we’re gonna turn back time, can we turn it back to when I was cute?

A delight this time of year is discovering HOW MANY DAMN CLOCKS you own. You think you set them all back, only to enter a room and say, "Oh my god! It's 8:30??!!" Yeah, no it isn't. You forgot this one. Now how the fuck do you work THIS one, goddammit? I gotta make my house … Continue reading If we’re gonna turn back time, can we turn it back to when I was cute?

Because we need more oompah bands.

It's raining today; at the most, it's going to be 64 degrees. They also call that "the high." Am become familiar with language of peeple. Anyway, after Edsel's a.m. constitutional, and by "constitutional" I mean he peed, he stampeded back inside, as he does. "Edsel, wait," I said, and he screeched to a halt. That's … Continue reading Because we need more oompah bands.

Certain the neighbors enjoy me blasting Tom Petty at 7:53 a.m.

Under last night's waxing gibbous, I found myself at the Full Moon Oyster Bar, in the company of a man. A gentleman caller. A swain. It was not our first date. I kind of hope it will not be our last. Also, I did not eat any oysters. You know, I used to. Back in … Continue reading Certain the neighbors enjoy me blasting Tom Petty at 7:53 a.m.