A few things:
On the way to work this morning, I saw an old, white-haired man in a sleek black Mercedes. His vanity plate? Said JLO. J-Lo. What?
Now, either this is a reference to Jennifer "Jenny from the Block" Lopez, or perhaps these are the guy's initials. Either way, shame on you, Mr. James Lewis Olsen for either using your vanity plate as a tribute to J-Lo or not realizing that your initials mean something quite different to the rest of the world.
You're rich. That doesn't mean you're smart.
I watched all of Lost Season 4 in a marathon internet streaming event yesterday. I was delighted to learn I could stream all the episodes for free from abc.com. Yay! I didn't have to wait until they came out on DVD!
The bad thing is, now I'm driving myself crazy knowing that I will have to wait until January for the new episodes. This season was so insane! Polar bears in the desert? Good people working for the bad guys? Jack going all crazybeard? I don't like it one bit, writers of Lost. I can only hope that you do us all justice in the end.
It's not big news, but I got a blemish on my chin Friday. Okay, it was a zit. On my perfect skin. When this happens, I go crazy: feeling the beast all day to see if it still hurts, to see if it's grown to teen drama proportions. I could hardly wait for the time I could come home and do some damage to it, if you know what I mean.
And that's exactly what I did. What started out as a tiny red bump on my chin grew into a 1/3 inch diameter superficial wound. Seriously? The whole thing got bright purple from all the useless pinching and squeezing. Now, two days later, it looks like a burn scar. Like someone put a cigarette out on my face. Ugh. I've been slathering it with Mederma for the last few days. Gar.
My dad rescued a kitten yesterday. How cute is that? He goes to this "place" on the Patoka River every Sunday morning to watch nature, balance his checkbook and record his work hours. He even loads up the trash and litter that people dump there and takes it off to the landfill on his own dime, because he can't stand to see his spot destroyed. Yesterday he heard a kitten screaming, and he saw it hop from the bushes toward him. "It was just an awful sound. I think someone dumped him off, and he was scared." He decided to leave for a few hours, and come back; if the kitten was still there, he'd take him home.
He and mom went out there later, and sure enough the kitten was there. Mom - adamantly anti-house-pet for all my life - went out and bought a litterbox, food and toys. When I talked to Dad last night, the cat was crawling all over him and according to Dad, wouldn't leave him alone. "I'd like to find a home for it, but I'm afraid someone will abuse it. Poor thing. But I don't want you stinking up my house, either! Heh heh heh."
How sweet is this guy? It all makes me think of Koko and his kitten:
So there's that,
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