This morning, the weatherman said:

"It's going to be a beautiful summer day! Don't you just want to reach out and squeeze the sun's cheeks?"

No, Pete Bouchard. No, I do not want to reach out and squeeze the sun's checks. Instead, I'd much rather reach out, grab the sun, and shake him violently a la Louise Woodward. First of all, why does it need to be nine hundred thousand degrees today? Why? Is that really necessary? (Okay, so it's really only going to hit a high of 87, but that's still far too warm for me). Second of all, Sun, could you please hurry things up? Do we really need a total of 24 hours in a day? If you would just move a long a little quicker then maybe these next eight weeks would progress in a more bearable manner.

Reason number 9,734 on the list of reasons why I hate my life right now is because I had to sit at my desk this morning and listen to The Deaf Dock Man tell me all about the cream his doctor used to remove the hair from his back.

That story, however, paled in comparison to the one I was forced to endure yesterday. Let's just say that it involved The Retarded Man Who Empties my Trash Can, a laxative, and a "metal rod."

Exactly two weeks ago, I said to Bitsy, "This has got to be the longest week ever."

Exactly one week ago, I said to Bitsy, "We were wrong last week. This is the longest week ever."

Today, I said to Bitsy, "We were wrong again last week. This is the longest week ever."

I've been told that today is officially the longest day of the year. HURRY IT UP, PEOPLE!

Posted by Taylor on June 21, 2005 @ 10:48 am

I'm actually in the middle of

writing an honest-to-goodness real entry right now, but I had to jump in quickly to say that I just saw a photograph of Mouth's 3 daughter's and I thought I was looking at something out of National Geographic.

In lieu of a scan, I provide you with this as reference.

Posted by Taylor on June 20, 2005 @ 3:07 pm

I have the most amazing friends.

Last night I went out with my friend Angel. Angel has recently returned from a trip out to California. While in California she spent some time with a girl with whom we went to high school. This girl has had a rough life. She's had a brain tumor. She had pneumonia, was in the hospital for six months, lost a lung, had a feeding tube insterted into her throat, and was actually pronounced dead for 42 minutes. Now she has to carry a small oxygen machine with her everywhere she goes. Just after getting all of this information from Angel, she went on to say, "That girl is such a hypochondriac!"

Let's recap:
Brain tumor
Pneumonia
One lung
Hole in throat
Oxygen machine
Died

"That girl is such a hypochondriac!"

I. Love. My. Friends.

Posted by Taylor on June 17, 2005 @ 9:39 am

I was faced with a decision this morning:

aloe vera toothpaste or seaweed toothpaste?

We had, apparently, run out of good ol' fashioned toothpaste and, instead, were left with two of Mother's latest purchases. Mother has recently become organic obsessed. She thinks nothing of spending $17.99 for a loaf of bread or $34.19 for butter or $114.00 for boneless chicken breasts. She eats 2 tablespoons of virgin coconut oil a day (which, for the record, has the flavor of coconut but the consistency of ear wax). I guess I can't knock the virgin coconut oil, though, because it has allowed her to lose 16 pounds. While she has gone a little overboard I think it's actually good for her (beyond the health benefits). It gives her something to do and, in a sense, something to believe in.

My father couldn't be bothered by the toothpaste dilemma that I had to deal with. He has an obsession of his own: the critters in the backyard. They're still there. And, while he's captured a fair number of them, they persist. He's often found sitting quietly in the backyard or perched in an upstairs window, scanning the lawn for any movement. I've made it more than clear to him that he's not allowed to kill them and, thus, he usually carries his trophi- er, captives off to a wooded area and releases them...except for the one morning when he just pulled over and opened the cage on someone's front lawn. Three birch trees does not a wooded area make. Even though he's seemingly channeling Wil E. Coyote I think it's good for him. It gives him something to do and, in a sense, something to believe in.

For the first time in 26 years, my brother says he's moving out and, by golly, I think he means it. He's spent the larger part of those 26 years refusing to mature and neglecting to pick up the very basic skills that we all need to make it in that big, bad world out there. But now, here he is, making an actual effort (he made fried chicken the other night. While I ended up with a mouth-full of flour after my first bite it was an effort nonetheless). He's been spending some time at his soon-to-be pad fixing up whatnots and painting thing-a-ma-jigs. While I think the little match under his backside has been lit by necessity and not of his own accord, I think it's good for him. It gives him something to do and, in a sense, something to believe in.

So what do I do? I go to work, I go home, I eat my weight in Oreos, and I go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. I guess that's not fair. I spend a large part of my day thinking - thinking about what's to come. I think about where I'll be in 2 months. Where I'll be in a year. Where I'll be in 6 years. Where I'll be in 15 years. And, yes, I think that's good for me. So I guess that's what I do. And that future is what I believe in.

Posted by Taylor on June 14, 2005 @ 3:44 pm

Two things that worry me:

No. 1 - A friend of mine is getting married. When I told Connie about the upcoming nuptials she asked, "Well, does she have a date yet?" and I said "Duh, Connie, I'm pretty sure she's bringing her fiancee!"

No. 2 - Today is Flag Day. We were just talking about Flag day and what it is we're celebrating exactly. Somewhere in the midst of this conversation I said something about "the creator of our flag, Betty White."

Posted by Taylor on June 14, 2005 @ 10:12 am

I was abducted by aliens last night.

At least, I'm almost 100% certain that I was abducted by aliens last night.

I woke up this morning with an acute ache in the tip of my right index finger. I did not have this pain when I went to bed and, obviously, I didn't do anything to injure it in the middle of the night.

So, obviously, the only logical explanation I can come up with is that I was abducted by aliens and these aliens planted some sort of tracking device into the tip of my finger underneath my fingernail.

This is so obvious because, obviously, I'm a superior specimen that they would be interested in tracking.

Posted by Taylor on June 13, 2005 @ 8:06 am