Posted on October 31, 2005 by Aunt B.
[Edited to add a warning about a disturbing bunny incident. If disturbing bunny incidents bother you, skip on to something else.] The Professor’s blonde colleague is a hoot and loves my dog, just to admit my bias towards her up front. At dinner on Saturday, she was talking about her work, which involves interpreting the [...]
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Posted on October 31, 2005 by Aunt B.
I agree with Andrew Sullivan that, in the end, looking at the results of someone’s judicial decisions instead of the reasoning that got him to that decision really is utterly pointless. As old Sully puts it, “What matters is not the result of someone’s decisions, but the reasoning that led to them.” Now, of course, [...]
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Posted on October 31, 2005 by Aunt B.
So, this weekend both the Professor and the Butcher told me I was too judgmental, that I am unforgiving of the ways in which the people around me aren’t perfect. The Professor even threatened to beat me up about it. And since, unlike me, the Professor doesn’t go around letting her mouth write checks her [...]
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Posted on October 30, 2005 by Aunt B.
So, I was over at the Professor’s yesterday working on W.’s afghan while she cleaned. “How tall is your cute boy?” I asked. “6’2″ ” She said. “Perfect,” I said, “I’m almost done with W.’s afghan and I want someone the right height to try it out.” “I kind of had the feeling that W. [...]
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Posted on October 30, 2005 by Aunt B.
“Don’t insult yourself by calling yourself a liberal.” “No, my god, you’re much too interesting for that.” “You’re at least a radical.” “She’s a socialist, just like the rest of us.” Last night, I had a long, leisurely dinner with the Professor, her blonde colleague, and two old, old-school socialists from Chicago. It was awesome. [...]
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Posted on October 29, 2005 by Aunt B.
So, we went to Red Lobster. I begged the Professor to come along so that I would have some company, but she was off to the drag show* and couldn’t. Luckily, the Red-Headed Kid came along, because he wisely conconcted this plan where he and I both ordered dinners that came with popcorn shrimp and [...]
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Posted on October 28, 2005 by Aunt B.
So, the Butcher turns twenty-five on Sunday. It’s also all-you-can-eat shrimp time at Red Lobster. Last year, he could eat 140 shrimp over the course of three hours. If you think going to Red Lobster is boring, try sitting in the Red Lobster for three hours as the Butcher and your waitress engage in an [...]
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Posted on October 28, 2005 by Aunt B.
There’s this joke going around that now at least ten people have either told me or forwarded me, because they think I’ll find it funny. It goes something like this: One of Bush’s aids is briefing him on the events of the last twenty-four hours and he’s going down the list of casualties and he [...]
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Posted on October 27, 2005 by Aunt B.
Overheard on the Internet wow…how’d you link to Tiny Cat Pants? Do you know [B.] or just found it through internet randomness? (I don’t actually know [B.], but I’ve met the butcher on several occasions) [emphasis mine] Okay, god damn it. Is there anyone the Butcher doesn’t know? Now he’s meeting my readers and his [...]
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Posted on October 27, 2005 by Aunt B.
Whew, color me relieved. Cancer is no way to go.
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Posted on October 27, 2005 by Aunt B.
Fred Dalton Thompson. Yes. Fred Dalton Thompson. I’ve got a few promises I’ve made to myself. One is that the moment Ted Nugent becomes president of the NRA, I will join that organization. Today, I have another one. If Bush nominates Thompson, I will vote Republican for the rest of my life, and I will [...]
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Posted on October 27, 2005 by Aunt B.
Dear White Sox, Congratulations. That was awesome. Because of my continuing war with the Cubs, I’m extra delighted. B. **** Dear Butcher, There’s no gas in my car and the front passenger seat is covered in grocery bags. I’m sure there’s some rational explanation for both of those things. But I can’t imagine what. Also, [...]
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Posted on October 27, 2005 by Aunt B.
Every year the Oxford American puts out its annual music issue. Well, except when they aren’t publishing at all, which is frequently, but what can you do? This year’s has been out for a while, but I finally got my hands on it. It’s worth buying, if you see it, for three reasons. One and [...]
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Posted on October 26, 2005 by Aunt B.
In a breathtakingly brilliant move, the VA is sending letters to mentally traumatized veterans telling them that their benefits are going to be under review, again. Ron Nesler, for instance, received a letter from the V.A. saying that his file was one of those in its review. He said the letter left him shocked, angry [...]
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Posted on October 26, 2005 by Aunt B.
[I know I have a bunch of readers who don't live in middle Tennessee and I'm sorry you have to sit through this shit again, but that's just the way it goes. If upsetting things upset you, go down and contemplate the lovely afghan I'm making W., in part because he's now embarrassed that I'm [...]
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Posted on October 25, 2005 by Aunt B.
Yes, phone-callers of disbelief, I am walking home today. Lots of people take long walks and they don’t die. I won’t die either. Yes, I have my cell phone. Yes, I’m sure I want to do this. And, fine, if I die, you can all get together and drink the last of my vodka. [Edited [...]
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Posted on October 25, 2005 by Aunt B.
I’d just like to take a moment to thank Brittney over at Nashville is Talking for providing me with one of the highlights of my blogging career. Check this out and note the civil discourse. Then, check this: Shep is gay?? Gee, who’s next…. Ellen? Elton? Etheridge? Surprised? …NO Care? …NO I find it more [...]
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Posted on October 24, 2005 by Aunt B.
1. The Man from GM tells me that his philosophy is “Swing at Everything.” I’m pretty sure that, if allowed to count myself, I’m as lucky with the ladies as the Man from GM is, but I appreciate his optimism. Those of you who’ve had to fish his hands out of your pants may not [...]
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Posted on October 24, 2005 by Aunt B.
Okay, last week, I broke down and ran the air one afternoon, and this week, autumn seems to have arrived in full force. We haven’t turned the heat on, as we are Midwesterners, and we refuse to acknowledge that this is cold. But I have pulled out all the afghans, of which we have many, [...]
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Posted on October 23, 2005 by Aunt B.
First it was the infamous falafel and now it turns out that Shepard Smith is THE GAY. FOXNews sure seems like the biggest den of inequity on TV*. Let’s go to Kleinheider** for the thoughtful, seemingly-right reason why this is: People who live in DC and New York and travel around the country are almost [...]
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Posted on October 23, 2005 by Aunt B.
You know it’s a weird evening when you look over at all the people sitting on your floor and there’s the Butcher, with his head in Mrs. Wigglebottom’s mouth, and no one notices. I sat for a long moment wondering if I was really seeing what I thought I was seeing. “Is your head in [...]
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Posted on October 22, 2005 by Aunt B.
The park was gorgeous this morning, unbelievable. And when we got home, I didn’t feel like sitting around here all day actually doing work, though I still have stuff to catch up on from when I was sick. So, after an early lunch, I put the dog back in the car and we headed west [...]
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Posted on October 22, 2005 by Aunt B.
Yes, I was pissed you cut me off, considering there was no one behind me and I was zipping along. And so, I acknowledge, it may have been confusing to see me start to flip you off, and then lower my hand, and start to laugh. I just thought I’d explain it to you. You [...]
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Posted on October 22, 2005 by Aunt B.
According to Yahoo!, President Bush has told Condoleeza Rice to tell the U.N. to “convene a Security Council session ‘as quickly as possible to deal with this very serious matter [Syria].’” Of course, those of us in the sane world are afraid this is just the first step towards another misguided neverending war. So, I’d [...]
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Posted on October 21, 2005 by Aunt B.
The Good: Two liters of vodka, half paid for by the Butcher. The Bad: Listening to the guy at the liquor store go on about the giant government conspiracy to take pictures of our eyeballs and sell them to the credit card companies. The Weird: The hobo who is standing outside our door begging us [...]
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