I just got a call from BFF Frank; first thing out of the phone was “Are you alright? It’s 8:30 and you haven’t blogged?” Funny. We are however, getting close to my one year anniversary of daily blogging. Sad, one year of my bad grammar, mispellinz, and rambling on about how my muscle hunk partner barely puts up with me.
Speaking of which, as of yesterday Fuzzy has now banned me from saying the word “Snarky.” His statement being precisely:
“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
So now I have to go into the bathroom and say snarky all by myself. “I can be snarky all by myself; I don’t need anyone or anything to be snarky. Just me, and an ashtray. And a paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And a remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And matches. The ashtray, and matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And a lamp. The ashtray, a paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing. The paddle game, and a chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, a magazine and the chair. I don’t need anything else. I can be snarky on my own. I’ll show him. I’ll show the world.