Posts in Murder
Between watching a stolen copy of Firestarter,
having my myofascial system manipulated, and stuffing Jen’s pants with firecrackers, we had just enough time to choose cards for the spring release. And because I am so generous, I slowed-down the best scene in Firestarter so everyone can enjoy it as much as I did. **SPOILER ALERT** Little Drew is often blinded by rage and uses the pyrokinetic powers she inherited from her mother, Heather Locklear, to burn her enemies alive. Also, George C. Scott can kill a man with one precise karate chop to the underside of the nose. (See clip above.)
NOW, wanna know what cards we chose?? I’ll only show you FOUR, because I am full of mystery.
CRYING AND LAUGHING IN
THE SAME HOUR MAKES
HUMANS BETTER; STRONGER
“You know how every day someone asks “how are you?” And even if you’re totally dying inside, you just say “fine,” so everyone can go about their day? This show is the opposite of that. Hosted by author and notable widow (her words) Nora McInerny, this is a funny/sad/uncomfortable podcast about talking honestly about our pain, our awkwardness, and our humanness, which is not an actual word.“
Sure, talking about your gut health and fermented foods might make you the hit of a New Year’s Eve party, but try to remember it’s not about being popular… it’s about being healthy. HEALTHY.
Do I miss the days of eating and drinking whatever I wanted?? No, sir! Not when there are teenagers in the house who keep me from choking to death! Phew!
Thank the Lord I don’t ALSO have a tap-dancing sociopath in the house. That would make my new diet even more difficult and winning penmanship medals impossible.
The Art Licensor (RSVP) asked us for some birthday cards and because I love to work/need money, I made nine. I won’t bore you with the details/need to get back to listening to my new podcast (My Favorite Murder).
Here are a few… Will they choose any???
Thank you, Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark. I can’t wait until Alexis Stewart and I meet you in person!
This isn’t the first time I blamed The Cats for a crime they didn’t commit.
Nor will it be the last. The odor of rotten animal is unforgettable and like the odor of rotting potato, it is embedded in the brain. But sometimes the brain jumbles the smell of decomposing rodent with the smell of a blanket of maggots coating the bottom of the garbage can.
And that is where my story begins…
The Summer Breeze gently wafted through the upstairs windows. It was pleasant, until an occasional repulsive odor stung my nostrils. I blamed The Cats for hunting, killing, and hiding their prey somewhere on my second floor.
But a search for a body was in vain and a garbage can investigation led me to the real suspect: that damn blanket of maggots coating the bottom of the garbage can!
Mea culpa, Tib! When will I ever trust you again??
Speaking of breezes (and puns??)… Here’s a new thank you/congratulations card.
Tib knows it’s summer because the screens are on.
And *I* know it’s summer for other, more important, reasons.But I’m trying to be a better person/less into body-sculpting, so I decided to read a book. It was written by The Intern’s daughter, Nora McInerny Purmot.Chapter 25 was especially fun to read because Madge is so near and dear to my heart and I could relate to the notion of elder-abuse.Except my mom has made it very clear that she wants to be euthanized via pillow-suffocation, pre-elder-abuse.
After coughing the web of mucus from my throat, it was time to choose paper and envelope colors for the Spring Release.Dinah told me later that she was plotting my murder while I took this photo.
Oh, Dinah! What will make you snap?!
Wait, tell us more about the web of mucus!
No! No more. Onto more important things.
Like frogs im Deutschland.Who needs pants when you have legs like that? Amiright??
One of our many cats had chronic diarrhea. We kept her around because she produced litter after litter of adorable white kittens.
And because coming home was always a surprise — where would we find her poop today?? In the mitten-bin… in the laundry basket… under my daughter’s pillow??
Life is so full of surprises!
Like, when the vet called to say she died after he removed her ovaries. SURPRISE! Oh, but now she doesn’t send us on poop-hunts, because she’s buried in a shallow grave in the backyard.
First life zigs, and then it zags!
Nothing could come between a girl and her Etch A Sketch in 1981.NOTHING.
Just look at that tight-lipped concentration… LOOK AT IT.Maybe I was creating a message for my mom? Or a beautiful design? Or a note to my brother begging him to stop slowly poisoning my parakeet and calling me Oot Head.
My Etch A Sketch has been replaced with 10,000 pounds of letterpress equipment, a laptop, and Jen. (Sorry, Jen.)
Here’s a new Valentine’s Day card… Lead type and an antique cut can barely compare to the magic of my childhood.
January has already been SO busy. I don’t know about Jen, but I’ve had to take a really active role as a listener/watcher.
First this: (Sherlock!)
And then this: (Serial Podcast: season 2!)
And now THIS?? (Making A Murderer, brought to you by the good folks at Netflix and Men’s Wearhouse!)
It’s a lot to keep track of… I’m taking notes if anyone needs them.
Don’t ask me how (DON’T ASK ME), but I was able to squeeze in one card: