YAY! CANDY!

WARNINGS:
CHOKING HAZARD: SMALL PARTS. DO NOT INGEST. PRODUCT IS NOT FOOD. DO NOT HANDLE CRYSTALS. IF SWALLOWED, DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING. SEEK MEDICAL ADVICE IMMEDIATELY. CONTACT WITH PRODUCT MAY CAUSE SKIN IRRITATION. IF EYE CONTACT OCCURS, FLUSH EYES THOROUGHLY WITH WATER FOR 15 MINUTES. IF SKIN CONTACT OCCURS, WASH AREA WITH SOAP AND WATER. USE WITH CARE AROUND BIRDS AND OTHER SENSITIVE HOUSEHOLD PETS. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN AND PETS.

Grumble Grumble Wheeze

Kids today... Need to learn to hem.
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I'll take The Rapist for 1000, Alex

I drive past a kid who's fumbling with the broken chain on his bike, and I'd like to help, but I don't have any tools. And I'm headed to Best Buy to blow some cash. Plus, what if his parents came along? Would they think I was being helpful? Or trying to kidnap their kid?

I remember when I was liitle, wondering why adults didn't step in and help out more often. Once, when I was like 5 or 6 years old, I decided to pretend my legs were broken, and use my arms to drag myself along the sidewalk for about half a block. No one stopped to check on me. Would I stop if I saw a kid crawling along? Probably not.

Because My Blog Has A "Pardon Our Dust" Sign Up During Renovations

Guest Post by Cindy

I've been told, usually by baby-happy couples and/or relatives, that having a pet is a great way to prepare for having a baby. Apparently the puppy I had as a teenager does not count as a trial-run, but rather an exercise in feeding, cleaning, disciplining..... oh, wait.

Lina was a grown cat at adoption, so the opportunities to practice the fine art of parenting were few. However, after staying up late partying (or reading, whichever you think more likely) last night and falling asleep around 2 am, it was to our groggy disbelief that the cat decided 6 am was time to rise and shine and open her can of beef feast in gravy. Now. Right Now. Immediately if not sooner. What the hell, can't you hear me meowing, feel me climbing around on your stomach and scratching your ankles? GETUPANDFEEDMEYOULOUSYEXCUSEFORAHUMAN

My lack of a set schedule has not adjusted hers apparently. So the cat is fed and all is right with the world. Except we can't fall back asleep. The room is too hot, the pillows too scratchy, the other person's breathing too loud, the numbers on the alarm clock too bright. Ok, you take the couch, I'll keep the hot and scratchy bed with the extra leg room. And still, nothing.

6:25 am - counting sheep, but losing track as Duke herds them into cryptic messages about secret recipes for margaritas - the company is branching out.
6:45 am - playing with the picture-in-picture between Dawson's Creek and The Weather Channel. Pacey says it's going to be a hot one in Capeside!
7:10 am - tip-toeing into the kitchen, past a lucky sleeping someone, to get a bottle of water, only to trip over the cat who thinks she can convince me her empty bowl was never filled this morning, clearly I am mistaken, meow?
7:25 am - turning on the treadmill and the turbo-fan, because a morning walk is good for you, but not if you pass out from heat exhaustion. Inside your apartment. Before breakfast.
7:50 am - wondering if 45 seconds at a 7.5 incline is worth bragging about? Deciding no, not if your speed was a 1.7
8:02 am - eating a cinnamon streusel muffin, because hey, I did an incline of 7.5
8:30 am - reading blogs and (gasp!) writing a post.
9:45 am - yawning, searching for automatic feeders online, 'cause damn.

Of course, a career in retail is still .the #1 form of birth control in my opinion.
Hungry cat, #2.