Sunday, July 27, 2008

Writer's Block

I think I jinxed myself when I promised to be funny and quit my whining, pissing and moaning. NOw I open the laptop, log onto blogger and sit here and stare at it while my feeble mind desperately tried to dredge up something, anything to say... and come up blank. I read on another blog that the way to get over blogger's block is just to write and so I will. I have no dooubt this will be a train wreck but hang onto your undies, here we go! CHOO CHOO!
I have discovered that I am multi lingual WITHOUT ROsetta Stone. YOu know that commercial where you learn to say something about a horse and rider and one of the spokes people can't find the word tutor in her own language as in 'It's like you have your own... pause what is the word what is the word... person in your house teaching you the language... I think the word is TUTOR or if we want to go back to basics YOUR MOTHER! Why not just send some foreign speaking mother to your house. I bet she'd teach you the language fast enough.
Multi-lingual ... ok so the train of thought got slightly derailed.
I speak a number of languages.... english...or maybe American would be a better description because the TV insists on putting captioning on people speaking such exotic languages like Irish, New Zelander and Africaaner, basicly anyone with an accent.

MULTI LINGUAL MULTI LINGUAL AND STAY ON TRACK!

I speak American, Pig, Dog, Cat and now GOAT! Who knew I could speak goat? I didn't but when I hear the little goatling next door maa ing from his pen I talk to him AND he shuts up, listens and responds. NOw just because I speak goat doesn't mean I understand goat and maybe I should have a goat Mother sent to my house to teach me the goat language with pictures!

I still covet a goatling. The one next door neatly hops over the fence of his pen, crosses the yard, up the steps to the front deck and stands by the front door, maaing to be let in. And people say goats are stupid. HA! Maybe they should name the goatling Einstein. (I do have to learn the animal's name)

The King of the Knuckleheads has finally been served and we have a restraining order not that I think it will do any good and now we don't have to face the judge from Hell any more. Geez if they ever sent her to someone's house as a tutor... perhaps teaching legalese, they would learn the language in no time flat to avoid her having to look at them as if they were something smelly stuck to the sole of her shoe. She yelled at a guy in her courtroom because he had his arm around the woman sitting next to him.

Court story. We were sitting waiting for the show to begin... Oh the court to begin... when I was approached by a woman with a paper in her hand telling me she was from the Domestic Violence Center in the county and wanted to give me the paper with their services. I thanked her and told her I didn't need it and then she gave me that gentle "oh my poor dear" look and urged it on me again. I explained that I was only there for moral support and that look of distress deepened. Anyhow I finally explained it to her and she went her way. NOW the husband for all his faults has NEVER laid a hand on me. He did once kick me in the mouth but he was practising his karate kicks and I walked up to say something, got too close and walked into a kick. The husband is considerate and polite and thoughtful and before you think I married a gem, he does not listen to me, asks questions doesn't bother to hear the answer and asks the question again and again until he gets an answer he likes. I've managed to somewhat put a stop to that when he asks a question I would have no reason to have an answer to, I tell him I'll check, pull at the neckline of my shirt, gaze down at my boobs for a moment, the shake my head and say something like Nope... got nothing there. He thinks it's hysterical and I think you should all be honored to know me because according to the husband I KNOW EVEryTHing! choo choo!!!!!
Enough of this rambling nonsense. I need to go into the craft room and figure out my gotta have colors for polymer clay. Michael's has a sale and I'm just down to the ugly colors at home. All aboard.

1 Comments:

Blogger Vyx said...

You speak Pig, eh? So do I, sometimes. I can at least sound somewhat like my pig Opal, of course I have no idea what I'm saying, but she likes it. I can of course Maaa like a goat, too. :)

After reading the previous post where you have goat-envy... I had a pet goat before I had a pig. The goat was more trouble to care for, but the pig did more damage to the yard by digging. Divots everywhere. Goats will just eat everything in sight without digging it all up, too. :)

hugs,
Vyx

8:05 PM  

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