Office Work.......

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Last year I made a white & black hood with ears, and a tube of white fur with elastic around each opening. DD dressed all in black sweats, and put the tube oround her middle like a very wide belt. The hood, plus a little make-up, and she was a panda TA DA!

She notes that the costume was very similar to the one she wore 9 years before, when she was a sheep, except the sheep had curly faux fur and was in the shape of a pillowcase with arm & neck holes...
 
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Darn right. Haven't seen my feet in months. JUST KIDDING. My boyfriend says as long as they stick out more than my belly, he doesn't care. Ha ha ha, good thing I've not got a bun in my oven (although I do have some honey buns in my cabinet). I tell the man that as soon as I diet I will lose the boobs and the butt and just have the thighs and the gut. And then he sighs. Poor guy.

I cut my hair short recently...a month or two ago? I HATE IT. I can't wait for it to grow out a bit. I am constantly using clips and things to hold stray pieces in. I CAN'T WORK LIKE THIS. Plus it makes me look fat. Definitely not the chocolate eyeballs that make me look fat. Or be fat. Speaking of which, where are those darn things...nom nom nom...

Ran to Wally World at lunch to pick up my crazy pills. Turned down one of those rows where each side points in a different direction. As in, if you drive one way you can only part to the right cause the spots are angled? You know? And I am driving in and about the 4th spot down on MY SIDE, ANGLED MY WAY, is EMPTY YAY. And there is a car coming from the opposite directiona bout 6 spots away who puts their left blinker on. As though by them driving the towards the parking spot from the wrong direction and from farther away then me, means they own it. Ha ha ha ha ha, *PARKS THERE*. They got all pissy looking that I "took their spot". Whatever yo. Eat it.

I learned to drive in Southern California. I have road rage. I understand this.
 
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When I visited a best friend in LA she taught me about the 3-car-left on yellow rule. And that it sometimes go over into the red, but all 3 cars should take the left turn whether it's yellow or red. And then she'd lecture the cars ahead of us if someone broke the 'rule'.

I had something similar happen whn I went to the doc on Tues. The other guy was going the right direction, the parking garage was FULL, and I was closest to the only available space. I backed into it. Older dude looked mad. Tough noogies, cause he had a handicapped sticker and there was a handicapped space available but it was in the sun. I am NOT driving around for 10 minutes so old dude can park in the shade!

I don't park in handicapped spaces. I don't think those with a sticker should park in 'mine'. Is that wrong?


Nella, I'm not allowed to take crazy pills. Apparently that is not something I need help with. According to my daughter, I overflow with an abundance of crazy.
 
Here is the Nellabean rules of driving.

1) Know where you're going. Don't dilly dally in the left lane, no no the right lane, no no back to the left lane, I know lets hesitate in the left lane down to 20 mph in a 40 zone because maybe we want to turn here, oh wait MAYBE NOT.
2) Gas pedal is on the right, use it.
3) Putting your blinker on does not make you owner of the road. Try looking before changing lanes, IT HELPS.
4) Ever heard of left turn YIELDING ON GREEN? there are no cars coming, feel free to turn at any moment. any time now. today.
5) Yellow does not mean slam on the brakes at the crosswalk and try to back up behind the line. Yellow means, watch out it will soon become red but good thing you are already IN THE MOTHEREFFING INTERSECTION therefore keep driving nimrod.

that's enough for now. Where are my crazy pills?!?!?!
 
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Printing this for DD so she's knows I am not the only one....
Currently, she rolls her eyes when I yell, "It's the long skinny pedal on the RIGHT, Doofus!!"
 
Thank God we're back to hitting each other with Bibles (new definition of Bible Thumper, Buff?), that crafting talk was starting to give me the willies. I can sew on a button and that's the extent of my needlework abilities.
 
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I know, I saved it just in time, right? I can't sew either. I just do useless arty needlework and run around with torn skirt hems .
 
My definition of sewing is driving to my sister's house and handing it to her. Then I feed her small child sugary treats and get her wound up before leaving with my freshly sewn whatever once she is nice and wound up.

I am a great sister.
 
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I know, I saved it just in time, right? I can't sew either. I just do useless arty needlework and run around with torn skirt hems .

All those stuffed animals sitting on and around my desk are apparently waiting for repairs. They might be waiting a while.
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