October 7th, 2009 | 8 Comments »

Yes yes, we’ve moved house, boxes everywhere, can’t find the screws, no Internet for several days, psychically distressing. I don’t want to talk about that. What I do want to share is a rule of thumb you can live your life by: movie taglines are almost always improved by adding “LOL” to the end.

IN SPACE, NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU SCREAM LOL.

You see?

And to further illustrate the point:

A JEDI SHALL NOT KNOW ANGER. NOR HATE. NOR LOVE LOL

A MONSTER SCIENCE CREATED - BUT COULD NOT DESTROY LOL

ON EVERY STREET ON EVERY CITY, THERE’S A NOBODY WHO DREAMS OF BEING A SOMEBODY LOL

YOU’LL BELIEVE A MAN CAN FLY LOL

SEVEN DEADLY SINS. SEVEN WAYS TO DIE LOL

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE LOL

WHEN THERE’S NO MORE ROOM IN HELL, THE DEAD WILL WALK THE EARTH LOL

OH YES, THERE WILL BE BLOOD LOL

HIS LOVE IS REAL. BUT HE IS NOT LOL

I rest my case.

Posted in havers, writing
October 3rd, 2009 | No Comments »

Apparently we’re very paranoid people. I found three sicky buckets under our be. We could have all vomited at once with ease, safety and hygiene. But we never did, and now we are moving house and it is too late.

Posted in havers
October 2nd, 2009 | 3 Comments »

Have you ever noticed that any occupation sounds faintly sordid and ironic when used as the descriptor of a corespondent? It’s absolutely true. Try it.

“My wife left me for her chiropractor.”

“Yesterday my husband eloped with an architect.”

“All was going well until Jan abruptly filed for divorce and moved in with the plumber.”

“Natalie arrived home to find her goldfish dead in the bowl, a pile of unpaid bills and a note from her husband saying he had fallen in love with a tour guide.”

“Tonight I ran into my wife with her new flame, a purveyor of steak knives from Tallahassee.”

“After her husband left her for a truck driver Bethanne took to drinking heavily.”

“I don’t see Matilda much any more. Last I heard she was still happy with the prison guard she left me for. They were expecting their third child in March.”

You see? While one presumably has nothing against architects, truck drivrs or even chiropractors, one’s sympathy is aroused - and one finds oneself forming a faint sneer and going “Oh, an architect. I bet his mommy still does his laundry.” Or ringing up seventeen of one’s closest friends to say “Did you hear about Pauline? Her husband ran off with a lady from Greenpeace!”

Also, I have discovered that the good Lord did not dower me with the ability to clean ovens. It’s probably a sign.

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Posted in havers