On my drive home through the city last week I passed a shop that had a pressed letter sign declaring, You will never know how much I love you . All I could think was, well tell him/her stupid! No one should have to guess, it should hit them in the face like a cream pie every day.
A billboard declared that the business could solve “In grown toe nails”, In fact it was branded an “ingrown toe nail clinic”. More ponderings. Does this mean our thong/sandal wearing Australian population is a nation of ingrown nail growers, enough to support an entire clinic, or clinics catering to just that? Or more worrying, does it mean that our literacy levels have dropped so much that few know what the word podiatrist means these days and we have to dumb down the language even more.
[Remember, Australians wear thongs upon their feet, not flip flops. Thongs are not underwear. Well, they are underwear, but they are also footwear. We had the word first, I swear.]
I am thinking of implementing this design feature to my revenge stick. Form, function, but not quite sure about beauty… I just don’t want to disturb the balance function as one smites those who have angered me. It would defeat the ants though.
Our dog moped about during my absence last week. He perked up dramatically when I returned. Then Mr FD and Son went away for a few days, and Augie Dog is back to moping, lifting his head at every car noise, sitting by the front door, searching Son’s empty rooms. If he missed me, why aren’t I enough now? I am the one who feeds him most of the time, surely belly love should trump all!
Mr FD and Son left on a day long drive to visit Mr FD’s 90 year old bachelor Uncle. Two hours into the trip I received a phone call. Mr FD had left his wallet at home! This was after I had suggested that he leave said wallet in the car in the locked garage (part of the house) to ensure he not leave it behind. No, he had to bring it inside for no reason… Luckily, Son has his wallet. Obviously, Mr FD needs a wallet that goes ding as well! [See previous post]
If you are a maker of dog toys, there is an untapped market for industrial strength toys for LARGE DOGS. Poor Augie Dog has a rope, a frisbee and a Gorilla Kong on a rope that would snap the neck of a lesser dog. All other toys are for those teeny weeny lap dogs that travel in handbags. Wimps. Augie needs man dog toys. I will be your first order if you take up the challenge – no dings required.
We top dressed the lawn inside Augie’s yard and ever since mushrooms have been popping up. The obvious answer is that there was a lot of mushroom compost in the mix. We think the mushrooms are safe, but don’t trust our mushroom identification skills, so each day we go out and pick the mushrooms before Augie is allowed out. As I rise earliest, this falls to me most mornings. A few times the neighbours have driven out their drive as I do so, and I wonder what they think as they see a bleary eyed Flamingo Dancer with night sleep hair, in her PJs picking mushrooms in the early morning light. Needs must in more ways than one?