A Dose of Happy Will Keep Me Off Your Nerves

I feel a bout of random coming on so if you don't feel like dealing with that right this very moment dear reader, then feel free to come back later when you aren't so focused.  

I have on a Yankees/Dodgers game at the moment.  A cut away moment went to an older dude affiliated with the Dodgers.  I'm guessing he's the coach or owner (Gee, I wrote 'downer' at first...would that have worked?).  He was leaning against the railing, watching the game, blowing a cute pink bubble with his gum.  Awwww.  And that's what I'd rather be doing when I'm a Blue Hair.  Looking all adorable and having an important position with a baseball team rather than hobbling out of tonight's church venue for Bingo.

Pouring myself a gorgeous tall glass of Erdinger after a long, hard night of um....long and hardness from my Beloved, I realize I should have put a coaster down.  Because now, miss kitty cat needs to come over and start inspecting the premises to find out just where this cold, seemingly fresh and effervescent liquid is coming from.  She's such a good and curious kitty but  DAMMIT STOP SNIFFING AROUND NEAR MY OPEN GLASS.  So I hold the glass up in the air until she finally decides there is nothing new to learn about this tiny puddle of condensation.

These drug commercials drive me nuts.  Especially the ones that beat around the bush (no pun intended) about swallowing a pill in order to achieve a "10" of an erection.  In all three scenarios on the last commercial that I saw, the women were portrayed as fun loving, adorable, unaware of how cute they were and spontaneous.  The men stood there in a stupified, adoring state, as if  now that they could achieve Hardness Maximus, their significant other was the most curiously fawnable thing on the planet.  I am happy others who can achieve a booty situation that gives their steps to dance, it's just these commercials are ridiculous.  


My weekend was rather nice.  I spent it with Flip and all I can say is that I'm glad I'm no politician.  I flip flop back and forth between such feelings of isolation and ecstasy that I don't often know what is real - except for the fact that when he offers me loving attention, it's all that I need.  Hm.  I guess that does say something about how I feel.