Take A Picture, It'll LAST LONGER
Scenes from Tony's Coffee Shop:
My name is Kathy. I have just ordered a mushroom burger. I can hypnotize the camera with my eyes.
Brad succumbs.
The even more hypnotic power of salad remnants mesmerizes my minions.
Scenes from Times Square:
I squinch.
You squinch.
We all squinch.
Squinching complete, I go home--squinchers in tow.
Scenes from Iron Chef Yorktown: You Got Served
Andrea, Iron Chef Milwaukee.
Brad, Iron Chef Cleveland.
Tart a la Yorktown. And the dessert she made!
Ba-zing!
Scenes from the most unsuccessful dying of Easter eggs in human history:
This egg may be ugly, but at least it's also sticky.
Scenes from Tuna Melt and Oil Change Day:
Andrea and me in our manicure outfits. No manicures were actually received during the wearing of these clothes.
Scenes from yesterday:
I met up with Brad and Andrea yesterday after work. While we were waiting on the corner for Andrea's friend Lauren to find us, a man with a lame tribal tattoo and this dog dressed in a festive St. Patrick's Day t-shirt emerged from the bank behind us. The man undid his dog's leash and, with a snap of his fingers, it took a running leap for the top of a mailbox--and slid onto the other side. Another two goes left the dog perched on top.
The man then walked around the corner. The dog waited for a few moments, began to look concerned, hopped off the mailbox and tore down the street after him.
They both returned a moment later. Again, the dog was coerced into leaping onto the mailbox. By this point there was a small crowd of people surrounding the dog and its owner. While people snapped pictures with the dog ("LOOK HONEY, in New York you can MAIL YOUR DOG! What a city!"), the man chatted up a lady chihuahua owner on the corner who seemed charmed by the whole performance.
I can only imagine what goes on in that man's head.
Well Rover, I thought the wicked awesome tat would get me up to my knees in poon, but no luck. We need a new plan, boy, a new plan...lemme think, here. Okay, so chicks wanna get married. Marriages take place in churches. Some churches are old. Old churches have gargoyles on them. That's it! I'll teach you to perch like a gargoyle on top of a mailbox, and the babes'll totally fuckin' eat it up! SWEET.
My name is Kathy. I have just ordered a mushroom burger. I can hypnotize the camera with my eyes.
Brad succumbs.
The even more hypnotic power of salad remnants mesmerizes my minions.
Scenes from Times Square:
I squinch.
You squinch.
We all squinch.
Squinching complete, I go home--squinchers in tow.
Scenes from Iron Chef Yorktown: You Got Served
Andrea, Iron Chef Milwaukee.
Brad, Iron Chef Cleveland.
Tart a la Yorktown. And the dessert she made!
Ba-zing!
Scenes from the most unsuccessful dying of Easter eggs in human history:
This egg may be ugly, but at least it's also sticky.
Scenes from Tuna Melt and Oil Change Day:
Andrea and me in our manicure outfits. No manicures were actually received during the wearing of these clothes.
Scenes from yesterday:
I met up with Brad and Andrea yesterday after work. While we were waiting on the corner for Andrea's friend Lauren to find us, a man with a lame tribal tattoo and this dog dressed in a festive St. Patrick's Day t-shirt emerged from the bank behind us. The man undid his dog's leash and, with a snap of his fingers, it took a running leap for the top of a mailbox--and slid onto the other side. Another two goes left the dog perched on top.
The man then walked around the corner. The dog waited for a few moments, began to look concerned, hopped off the mailbox and tore down the street after him.
They both returned a moment later. Again, the dog was coerced into leaping onto the mailbox. By this point there was a small crowd of people surrounding the dog and its owner. While people snapped pictures with the dog ("LOOK HONEY, in New York you can MAIL YOUR DOG! What a city!"), the man chatted up a lady chihuahua owner on the corner who seemed charmed by the whole performance.
I can only imagine what goes on in that man's head.
Well Rover, I thought the wicked awesome tat would get me up to my knees in poon, but no luck. We need a new plan, boy, a new plan...lemme think, here. Okay, so chicks wanna get married. Marriages take place in churches. Some churches are old. Old churches have gargoyles on them. That's it! I'll teach you to perch like a gargoyle on top of a mailbox, and the babes'll totally fuckin' eat it up! SWEET.
posted by Kathy at 12:04 PM
5 Comments:
That's nothin. One time when I was in New Mexico I saw mouse sitting on top of the head of a cat that was standing on a dog's back while the dog walked around. I will never forgive myself for not taking any pictures.
~kessler
For The Record: It was Brad that started the dance-off. It was me that finished it. HEYOOOO.
Brad, my dad says he wants his tie back.
NOTICE TO ALL THOSE TRYING TO TALK TO SOMEONE NOT ME ABOUT SOMETHING I DON'T CARE ABOUT ON MY BLOG:
None of that. I am the center of this universe. Anyone who breaks this rule will receive the wettest of willies.
That said, I like that tie.
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