So on Sunday, Lionel and I attended Dany’s birthday party, which was quite enjoyable and such. Lionel totally dug the luau theme, as you can see. I was just beyond happy to actually make it to one of her birthday parties! I hope she liked the owl stuff I got her. She seemed to have an awesome time, and it was totally worth the whole battle-for-the-car thing I had to go through to get there. (Won’t bore you with the details, let’s just say my aunt worries A LOT about winter weather driving) And I didn’t even break out in hives with all the children shrieking and squealing and all that or from being around so many people I don’t know! Yay me!
In less than 30 minutes, it will officially be the best day of the year y’all–my birthday! That’s right, it will be the day to celebrate the fact that I exist! You may be wondering what someone as awesome as me does on her birthday, well, I’ll tell you! Nothing. Nada. I was supposed to work, but they had to cut hours so I won’t be working anymore. I won’t be going out to eat or out partying or anything like that. I might call Rae and see if she wants to go for our yearly Olive Garden yum-fest, which she always does for my birthday, cuz she loves me. So maybe I lied, maybe I will do something. Guess I’ll have to wait and see if Rae’s busy. I am sad that I won’t get to hang with Tom and Noodle like I dd last year, but hopefully I’ll see them soon. But seriously, everyone should totally celebrate my birthday, just ’cause it is a day of awesomeness! Well, except for that one little exploding space shuttle thing that happened on my 9th birthday, which was super sad and all, but should totally not count against the day and such. I hope I get a birthday card this year. Wishing for a present seems a bit greedy and unrealistic, but a card would be nice. So don’t forget y’all, celebrate this random blogger’s birthday! Tell people you are required to be wacky and have fun because it’s, like, the best day of the year!
Yesterday and Monday, I spent far more time than I probably should have watching various documentaries on good old Netflix. I watched several shows about animal attacks, during which I frequently pointed out to my cat that these sorts of incidents are just one more reason to avoid nature. See, my theory is that if you go into the woods or the ocean or wherever, and you get munched on by one sort of beastie or another, you kinda have it coming. After all, it’s not their fault that we are below them on the food chain. They were designed to eat creatures like us, therefore, they are simply doing what they are supposed to do. Seriously, if you were a bear, wouldn’t you want to eat people? No fur, no big old fangs, no horns or tusks or antlers–just soft, juicy meat in a nice, easy open package! Dude, I would so be all over that if I was a bear! Anyway, I also watched a couple episodes of Intervention and a documentary on Auschwitz and one on extreme OCD and a few others. They were all pretty interesting. Oh, and the animal attack one showed me a job that I will NEVER EVER do! There are folks in Florida that are hired to go into the ponds and such on golf courses and retrieve lost golf balls. Um…hello??? Does no one else realize what lives in those waters?? Alligators! No way in Hell am I going in some stupid pond to fish out some stupid golf balls! That is just begging an alligator to eat you! No frickin’ thank you, I will pass. There isn’t enough money in the world to make these seem like an appealing job in my book. No way.
Randomosity: So I almost had to be really mean to my cat the other day. He peed on my bed! I had to strip my bed and wash all my bedding and put new bedding on. I was so not happy with his royal fur-butt. He’s just lucky I’m not good at being mean. All I could do was yell at him and shove the stinky bedding in his direction while I was carrying it to the laundry. He has no reason to do this–he is ‘fixed’, his litter box wasn’t overly icky,and he doesn’t seem to have any sort of health issue. He’s just an asshole, I guess. Good thing he’s cute and that he seemed at least a tad ashamed of his behavior. Not a lot mind you, just a tad. I suppose I could have rubbed his nose in it, but, well, he’s a cat. He doesn’t give a rat’s bahookey, not even a little. Besides, I tried that once before, when he piddled in his kitty cube, and it didn’t stop him from doing it again as soon as he got a new cube. I think I need a cat whisperer or something. Using drugs just doesn’t seem all that appealing to me. Sure, you get a nifty buzzy high thing going, but it just doesn’t seem worth the trade-off to me. Bad teeth, nasty looking skin and hair, stoner eyes, damaged brain cells, paranoia–none of that seems all that great in my opinion. Besides, I totally don’t want to stick needles in my veins or snort stuff up my nose–ew. I kind of have the munchies. I wish I could do makeup like they do on Face Off. Omg, wouldn’t it be bad-ass if I won the huge Powerball jackpot on my birthday?!?!? Of course, I’d have to have money to buy tickts, so that kinda shoots that down LOL. I miss getting a birthday cake. I remember when Caron would make me a carrot cake every year for my birthday–those were way yummy. I really need a hair cut. Why is the Trix animal a rabbit? Why not a wombat or a kangaroo or a friendly sort of mountain lion? When I get my taxes, I am totally going to get my hair dyed and cut and all that. And I want to get a Kindle Fire and a new TV that doesn’t make all the people around the edges look ill because the picture is going bad, and maybe a Blu-ray player that has Netflix. I hope I get to Skype with Chloe for my birthday.
Peace out, lake trout!