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June 2008 - planetautumn.com |
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June
30, 2008...11:30pm The Daily Update: 1. Woke to the sound of the phone:
2. Breakfast:
3. Lunch:
4. Snack:
5. Supper:
6. Second Snack:
June
29, 2008...11:45pm
Hey. I'm on vacation until July 7th. Meaning...I don't have to set my alarm clock. Rock on. Beginning tomorrow, I'm keeping a daily journal of everything we did on our vacation. As in, what I had for lunch. Look forward to that, why don't ya. Sweet! It's almost midnight and I'm gonna run to Walgreens for cigarettes and hair dye.
June
26, 2008...10:45pm
June
24, 2008...10:30pm
The
Humongous
and Annoyingly June
22, 2008...11:00pm There
were 6
teenage And one girl...
And yes...she ran around in her bikini, squealing and giggling and nobody complained. Beforehand, they set up two televisions in the man-cave and had a 5-player Halo session. It was all very techie. I don't have a photograph of that because I don't have a night-vision lens for my camera. I'm just glad they eventually came up for light.
And then we ate. Justin makes the best homemade barbeque sauce. EVER. No pics. It's secrect.
And then this happened... And what it looked like without the flash:
And then the cops showed up. It went something like this:
One thing I love about my life is that when the cops show up, I don't have to run, or hide my stash. I'd blow out my flipflops if I ran, and I have no stash to hide. I'm sans stash. And a note to the neighbors: Pick up the phucking phone and give me a jingle, "Hey Jen...turn it down please." Mkay. Not a problem. But now, all the little old ladies on the block are having to wipe their night cream off of their windows because "Oh my gosh...the police are at Jennifer's house again." AND THEN....
I'm not cool like that. Earlier that night, I had to run to Super Target to get more food and soda pop. When I got home, I brought it all down into the man-cave where they were playing Guitar Hero and Halo and I said, "I got the beer!" and they all shouted, "YEEAAAHHH!" I was lying about the beer, of course. They did enjoy the packages of sour gummy worms, though. They're good kids, but holy shit do they eat. I was happy to get up today and make them a big breakfast which was gone in a matter of moments. Oinkers.
AND
- there's a new video on YouTube. I'm a despicable woman, and a liar,
which will be apparent if you listen closely. And Derek didn't want to play DnD because he's "not interested in Yu-gi-oh." He's a nice kid. After breakfast this morning, he asked me if I had any black fingernail polish. I told him I was fresh out of black fingernail polish.
June
18, 2008...12:00am My Mother and Father supported us until I was able to move back out on my own when Billy was 3-years-old. (insert the importance of love and dedication right here...it helps society, hearts, souls, and the economy) My folks continued to play an enormous role in Billy's childhood. My Dad was father to Billy until I married Justin when Billy was 9-years-old. Justin took the reigns and my Dad, with a heavy heart, allowed him to do so. My Dad still plays a significant role in my son's life. My Dad and Billy miss 'the old days' and the 'remember whens'. I know they do. Bumpy roads on this journey? Yes, but it's gone very well. My Mother and Father, along with Justin, helped to make Billy feel as if he had others. Others who would care for him if I were to get run over by a truck and die. Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Mom (*waves to heaven*) And thank you, Justin. It means a lot to Billy that he has two men in his life who love him deeply. Trust me on this. Billy is very, very lucky. And he knows this deep in his heart. Thank you. Billy is going far in this world. Farther than he can imagine. Happy 16th Birthday, Billy!!!!
OH MY GOD! THAT'S MY BABY!!! I love him so much. I'm having 9 teenagers at my house on June 21 for a big party. Call 911.
Happy Father's Day...
June
15, 2008...12:00am M.E.A.T.L.O.A.F.
June 14, 2008...1:00am At the time, my last name began with The Letter M. (For the Following Story, names were altered to protect Jennifer from frivolous defamation of character lawsuits.) For 8 years in class, I sat between Eugene Lumperston and Debbie Menkoski because nuns like to have you alphabetical. Jesus likes that, and nuns are married to Jesus. Eugene was odd. He was the only black boy to attend our Catholic school, so everybody was nice to him. Sometimes his father would pull up in a fancy car to bring Kentucky Fried Chicken for Eugene to eat for lunch. He was rich, and a novelty, like a Jefferson. This was the 1970s in Minneapolis, so if the rest of us wore plastic bread bags over our socks before stepping into our snow boots so that our feet didn't get wet, other people were rich if they got take-out for lunch and their father drove a car that couldn't parallel-park because it was too long. Unfortunately for his father, Eugene was also gayer than a May pole. Eugene followed me to a Catholic high school, and I had to sit next to him in Biology class. Eugene was my lab partner and he jumped and squealed as I dissected the frog. Perhaps I made him gay. Perhaps punching his mouth in Biology class, until it came out of his asshole, made him gay. Eugene dressed like Michael Jackson throughout high school - the glove and everything. Sometimes, when I'm drunk, I Google his name to see if something pops up. Debbie Menkoski? She went to another high school after 1st-8th grade, and my nostrils are thankful. Debbie went to an all-girls Catholic high school. I wonder why. This girl was stinky, and each day I didn't know what I was gonna get. Would Debbie smell like urine, or would she smell like poop? Sometimes she smelled like both, and those were the special days when I wished my father had been a policeman so I could go home and kill myself his gun. Did Debbie not know how to wipe herself properly? Her Catholic schoolgirl skirt looked ok, so she wasn't unkempt. Except, of course, for the greasy and dandruff-riddle hairdo. Make a bow out of one of those puffy '70s cotton ponytail thingies and stick that in there. That'll help. I'm reluctantly revisiting this particular horror of my youth because I need affirmation. I need to believe that molding my children, gently, so they will not become Eugene and Debbie, is in the best interests of my children. I want my children to be the kids sitting in between, and not the kids on either side lending torture to the innocent. Being a pompous and shrill pansy is bad. Wiping your ass is good. *two thumbs up*
June
09, 2008...10:30pm I want for nothing more.
Available at Michael's Arts, Crafts, AND MORE! $1.00 per canister. Enjoy. We did.
June
02, 2008...10:30pm How can this possibly be boring?
"Because Mommy is drunk and that's been looking at me for last 20 minutes so I need to take a picture of it," is what I wanted to say, but clearly could not, so this opened up a short monologue about private parts, toy-making in China, and art. I said, "Don't let anybody take pictures of your private parts. If anybody does, or tries to, tell mom and dad. Mommy is just testing her camera. This could be art. Plus, Baby Born is a toy made in China and her private parts were manufactured by a couple of giggling 9-year-olds. They are not real, but it's good of you to be concerned, baby. Mommy was wrong to take the picture. Now, go find her underpants and put them on her. Please." Isabella had that look on her face for about an hour, and Baby Born still does not have any underpants.
June
01 1/2, 2008...1:30am Welcome!
June
01, 2008...12:00am Bite me.
My geraniums are so enormous this year. They are so big, in fact, that I can't decide if I wish they were penises, boobs, cheesecake, or green onions. I love all of them so much. I need them to be many and large. My mother-in-law hates geraniums. *giggles* I'm going to bed now. |
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