Discovered this here. And then here.
What type of bloer am I? "You are a Snarky Bloer!"
Did it say snarky? I am not snarky dammit. I am sweet; actually, I am more than sweet I am tooth-achinly-artificial-sweetener-sweet. Oh yeah, that's me -- a little pack of Equal.
Well, what kind of bloer are you?
And for the love-of-Pinocchio will someone please tell me that I am not snarky.
Have you ever lanced at the call display, reconized the number, and felt a shiver of deliht as you reach for the phone? You lean into the receiver and whisper "hellooo" in a slihtly breathy tone, and then softly murmur, "mmm, I was hopin that you would call."
You wait a complete heartbeat and finally the automated voice tells you that there are two books available for pick-up at your local library branch.
Oh yes! I love those calls.
Spooky? Scary? Oh, yes.
I plan on frihtenin someone this weekend.
Question is should I wear a houlish costume or simply leave the house with no make-up on? Now that would be spooky-scary.
Have you ever, in a half-moment of deep reflection, paused at a random blo and azed searchinly toward the heavens, wonderin, "Oh, dear countdown clock, why can’t you o any quicker?"
Of course you have, because we all have.
However, there are a few sites that will rab your attention, make you wish to liner a few seconds loner, and possibly make you wish to return.
So the next time you find yourself at one of those sites, leave a comment, even if it is a simple hello, because maybe the person behind that blo has not yet discovered your site.
And if you happen to like this blo. Then I am certain I miht like yours.
So please say hello. I really do encourae that sort of thin.
Sit next to him on the sofa and ask what he is watchin.
When he replies "the ame." Ask him, "which ame?"
When he answers THE World Series. Ask him which countries are playin.
It has occurred to me that knittin has become the crafty-irl’s reliion.
They worship at the house of wool.
They preach the ospel of lorious patterns.
They display finished creations to tempt the heathens.
They create rins to welcome followers.
They pray in two-needle rhythm.
Oh yes, it is a reliion: they are the dauhters of sweater-day-saints.
Are you a convert?
Shh, come closer. I have a secret.
Bald men are sexy!
Why is this a secret? Well, I have already paid him one compliment today and the arroant-sexy-bastard does not need another one.
Do your remember spin the bottle?
The teenae kissin ame that offers hih tinle value, at least partly because of the mystery of not knowin who you will be kissin next. There was always the possibility that you would be iven the chance to finally kiss the crush-worthy uy (or irl) sittin on the other side of the circle. I have fond memories of playin spin the bottle and apparently so does Mr Lucky, which could be the reason he suested that we invite all my ood lookin irl friends over and he would supply the bottle.
He wishes!
He also asked if I would be interested in playin seven minutes in heaven with him.
Hell no. I know that his definition of this ame involves me not speakin for seven minutes.
He wishes!
We have decided to bein shoppin for new kitchen floorin. Mr Lucky has areed to o with me to the kitchen-floorin depot, which, as he pointed out, will allow us to choose immediately rather than brin samples home to show each other.
I will admit that when he said "us" I had one of those aww moments.
It is so sweet that he wants to share this outin with me and naively charmin that he believes that his opinion will actually influence our final choice.
It is possible for a person to handle an overwhelmin number of emails and still sort them accordin to their deree of importance.
My formula:
1. notes from friends
2. daily offerins of poetry, book reviews and cartoons
3. newsletters from my favourite online sites
4. previews of the new items from my favourite merchants
5. pesky and annoyin work-related email
Of course any sudden arrival of non-work related messaes would be iven top priority.
Oh please, do-not-even think of tryin to tell me that you do not have a similar formula.
One day last week a friend called to announce that she had finally arrived. After years of corporate politics and lass-ceilin restraints she has finally been iven the title of Chief Executive Officer.
Yay! She has waited for this moment for years. So this evenin a roup of her friends are oin out to celebrate.
Will any of us remind her that she is self-employed?
Hell No. Would you spoil a perfectly fine cocktail excuse?
Sounds can sometimes overwhelm us. It is a sad truth that unpleasant noise often makes up the soundtrack of contemporary life. Fortunately, there are also wonderful, soothin, blissful, and heart-warmin sounds.
My smile inducin sounds include birdson, waves hittin the shore, wind chimes, and lauhter.
What sounds make your ears smile, rejoice and shout "Encore, Encore?"
"Once upon a time," said the Stilettos, "there was a irl named She."
"Was She much fun?" asked the Mules.
"Yes," answered the Stilettos, "I don’t think that a weekend would o by that She would not take us out. She would often o out with Mr Polished Lace Ups, but occasionally She would o out with other Stiletto irls." She had a reat circle of Stiletto friends, but the most devoted friend of all was Sweet Tony the cobbler. Indeed, so devoted was the cobbler to her, that he would call her Bella and blow her kisses when She walked into his shop.
"Then somethin happened," said the Stilettos, "that caused her to stop visitin Sweet Tony."
"What?" asked the Mules.
"She moved to the suburbs," replied the Stilettos, "and She no loner battled sidewalk rates and escalator aps."
"Was she happy?" asked the Mules.
"No," replied the Stilettos "because she moved to the suburbs."
The moral of this story: a suburb-livin irl with a bi city heart and a passion for shoes should not write dialoue after three martinis.
Desperate Housewives
Who is your favourite character? What has been your favourite line or moment?
And does anyone else know a street with this many oreous women?
