No, I have not turned green and orange, and, no, I have not learned how to play the purple saxophone. That being said, however, I am very much looking forward to the festivities starting this Friday. My research scientist will be hanging out this weekend, so if any of you are around, maybe I'll let you meet her, or maybe I won't.
In other news, I'm still a little worried about Sunshine. She's still claiming she has two kids and another on the way. And now she's even getting baby clothes in the mail and selling her house where she and Simon live comfortably in their three bedrooms. Why get a bigger house? It's not like they have any kids. My guess is that they plan on starting a counterfeit linens enterprise in BR and need the extra space for that. So for the love of God, Sunshine, quit with this illusion that you're a mother. We all know you can't have anything but Mormons, and the last time I checked, there weren't any dorks on bicycles circling your house.
Finally, there's a storm brewing at the corner of Cadiz and Coliseum. The Hamsterfish (aka Robert Knapp) has decided to invite the ex and the ex's husband to stay with he and his girlfriend for the second weekend of Mardi Gras. This is, quite possibly, the worst idea on the planet, even worse than Britney Spears decision to procreate. I will be posting many updates on the comings and goings, but I predict blood.
2 comments:
Why in the hell do I have to be pregnant THIS Mardi Gras? It sounds like you are going to have Jerry Springer down the street.
Oh, I might have to come for this. Heidi scares me.
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