Ho hum. I haven't blogged much lately, mainly because there is nothing much going on here. Well, besides Tucksworth going on a speed binge and Britinia threatening to kick my butt good. I haven't seen Tucks in over a week, but I did receive a strange note in my mailbox yesterday. Here is what it said:
WE HAVE UR MONKEY AND WE ARE HOLDING HIM PRISIONER.
IF U EVER WANT TO SEE HIM AGAIN THEN U KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO AND
WHEN U NEED TO DO IT.
P.S. ATTACHED IS A PICTURE TO LET U KNO WE MEAN BUSINESS!
Here is the picture they sent. Those bastards! They are ready to fry his little monkey ass.
Isn't that weird? Someone is holding Tucksworth hostage! I have notified the police and they are working on it as I write this. Poor Tucks, I hope he is staying strong. That picture gave me chills. It reminds me of Lindsay Lohan in that craptastic torture movie I wasted ninety minutes watching I Know Who Killed My Fake Twin Sister. And the worst thing is I have no idea what they want me to do, much less when I should do it! Do you?
In other less worrisome news, I got my hair cut the other day and it looks terrible. I knew that would happen, that's why I only get a haircut once every three years or so. I got five inches cut off the back which went okay but for some reason I lost my mind and asked for bangs.
I asked for long, sexy bangs like Kate's.
These are the bangs I got.
Why do hairdressers always do this? You show them a picture of what you want, and state clearly that you don't want your bangs to be too short and they still make you look like a contestant in the Special Olympics! As usual I didn't protest, just tipped her well and went home seething. Well, I guess it will grow. I'm glad that's over with anyway. Now I don't have to bother with another haircut until 2011.
And lastly -- my mommy has left me! She took off to go slut around Florida until the weather in Tennessee warms up. As much as I have complained about having her around and how she gets on my nerves, I find myself missing her. Way more now as an adult than I ever did when I left home at eighteen. What's up with that? Also, it appears that the guy she drove down to Florida with is a total dipshit. I've only met him a few times and I was going to reserve judgement, but as they drove off I noticed his car was covered in Fred Thompson '08 stickers.
I guess I just need more help nowadays. After all, no sooner did she leave then my monkey overdosed on Adderall and got kidnapped by crazy vivisectionists, and I got a really hideous haircut. Come back soon, Mom! I worry about you off in Florida with a dipshit! Plus, well.... the shower is starting to get kinda mildewy. Hey, it's not going to clean itself, you know?