In the spirit of posting cryptic and often troubling (not to
mention annoying) Facebook statuses:
Please
pray for my dog.
Really. She started
making that weird gagging noise and so I shuffled her outside before she yakked
up a wad of grass in the kitchen. This
picture shows just how ill she is, and how traumatized by this cycle of
gastrointestinal violence. And prayers
are needed, because – after all – it’s not every day a dog eats grass in the
springtime and barfs up a surprise greener than Kermit.
Aren’t you annoyed now?
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my dog. But in case I didn’t quite getcha, here’s a
few more one-liner posts…
Well,
just when I think things couldn’t get any worse.
Or
One day
everyone will know what a jerk you are (you know who you are)
Or
(check
in at XYZ Hospital or Emergency Department)
Or
My life
is changing forever.
Or
(any
negative commentary that leaves the possibilities endless)
Or
Something
big is coming my way!
Or (the infamous – and quite simple - old standby)
Prayers
needed.
Because how else will we get everyone’s attention? WHAT’S WRONG?? PMs by the dozen. Hmmm…
I try not to post cryptic stuff, though I did it a couple of
years ago and realized my mistake when people started calling me and one friend
offered to beat someone up. However, I am
anxiously awaiting permission to release hurricane Tara. Is this a joke? No.
And I promise everyone will know WTH I’m about once I get
clearance. Sorry. It’s tough to keep this lip zipped when its
pissed. National headlines, baby. Justice will
be served. Just don’t ask me anything
yet – I’m on a gag order.
In
other news…
The sun is shining!
Everybody’s working on their yards, the grass is green green
green, it looks like there’s another foreclosure
in my neighborhood (though the 6 inch grass just got mowed last weekend), the rocks have stopped flying downtown, I taught my dog to smile (video
forthcoming), and our tenants are moving out (!!!).
The cardiologist says I don’t have any high-risk
issues. Unless I pass out, my symptoms
become more frequent and/or bothersome, or I develop chest pain. I kind of knew all this, but Todd insisted I
finish what I started on that day I should’ve just stayed home and drank the
green beer.
My daughter made the cheerleading squad for next year and my son shot a 3-pointer in basketball so epic that even he was stunned.
Todd is feverishly finishing the rec room: home theatre, new ceiling, more fresh paint
to come, and (hopefully) start the plans for the bar. Because --- we’re havin a party!! Hoping to be ready in time for that
anniversary party I promised in 2012.
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