I used to think that the Sublime song “Doin’ Time” said “Rodney’s on the microphone with Ross MG” and I thought they were referring to Rodney King. I don’t know why, but when I looked up the lyrics years ago, I kinda felt like I did when I thought the lyrics to Tears For Fears’ “Sowing the Seeds of Love” were “Sewing machines of love.”
You know. Like a dumbass.
I saw last week in the Dallas Morning News that a murderer was caught because of some chicken. Had I not been by my parents’ house to visit when I came home from vacation, and if I didn’t read this myself, I would have never believed it:
“Fried chicken key in murder case.”
Um, okay. I know we are all sick of hearing about the election but this is all you’ve got, DMN?
I’m a big fan of law enforcement in general, but hell, Dallas PD, you gotta give someone an award for this excellent investigative acumen:
Under “Chicken gave clue”:
“A detective investigating the attack found food discarded on the train and ‘recognized this fried chicken as being from Henderson’s Chicken due to the texture and coating.’”
Yep, they found the perpetrator due to the fried chicken. That and his black and blue messenger bag. Thank GOD for excellent forensic science!
Fucking Wormy Kitty just ate the outside of a carved wooden ball I brought back from vacation. She is now grounded to her room when I am (a) asleep, (2) unconscious and (III) not around. Not only did she eat that snack, but she also jumped up to the top of a piece of antique furniture and knocked over a knick-knack my dad gave me years ago. (I am NOT a Knick-Knack Person but that piece had some sentimental value.) Anyway, I tried to elicit sympathy from the non-BF but all I got was “You have to cat-proof your house. I told you so.”
The commercial for the over-50 dating site, OurTime.com – “Love is better the second time around”? I think by 50, it’s maybe the 7th or 8th time around, don’t you?
It’s Election Day tomorrow. November 7th will be a day I’ve been waiting for like a 50-off sale at Nordstrom. I’m SO completely SICK of this election. No more discussions, no more ads. It will be like a breath of fresh air on Wednesday, except we will have to listen to the results of the election for at least one week. Wake me up when it’s December, please.
P.S. I voted early. And in the write-in part, well, the space wasn’t long enough for my name, so I just wrote “Mr. Swirly.” I still say he’d make a better president than those two. And he’s dead.
Unfortunately, this is all I’ve got today, sorry. Fighting a stomach bug all weekend, I’ve been watching Law & Order reruns and cooking shows until I had to go back to work today. Waking up at 1 a.m. each night, the only thing left was Cold Case Files and Cheaters. “I’m not a bad guy…just messing with a messy-ass mess.” I’ve sunk to a totally new low. Totally blaming it on the fever I’ve had for the last 48 hours.