Did I hit my head at lunch or something? Reading this makes me feel unmoored from reality.
On top of that, the governor says we need to run the state like a business. Well, shoot, we’re already seeing upper management continuing to live their spiffy high-on-the-hog lives, with their party bunkers and their posh wining and dining while workers lose their jobs.
That looks to me exactly like running the state like a business.
Which was quoted by Tiny Pasture later that day.
“Upper management making out like bandits and getting lavish party facilities while the rank-and-file stand to lose everything. Gov. Bredesen promised voters he’d run Tennessee like a business. We didn’t know he meant Enron,” said Hobbs.
Well. One would think the Republicans wouldn’t want to remind the voters about Enron, but whatever.
I asked myself if I thought I had been ripped off and my response was “Well, it is the obvious joke to make and I’m sure that Hobbs doesn’t read me. On the other hand, he does read Tiny Pasture…” I interrupted myself, “Who is Tiny Pasture?” “Kleinheider over at the Post. I try not to call him by his immigrant name.” “Oh, okay. So, do you feel ripped off?” “Nope. I feel flattered. Smooches, William Howard. Here’s to hoping you come to incorporate other things I say into your world view.”
And yet, it’s raining. Had I known it was going to rain this morning, I would not have watered my plants last night.
Yesterday, I got a text message from Plimco in which she announced the reception of her afghan. She confirmed to me what I suspected was true–that no matter how good it looked in pictures, that was nothing compared to how amazing it looks in person.
The Butcher and I were watching NCIS last night, which is one of our favorite things to do (aside from getting anti-income tax folks drunk and rolling them. You know those folks carry a lot of money on their person.) and having a high old time.
This is how we watch TV together:
Me: Is that the same girl from last week?
Him: That’s the same girl from last year.
Me: No that was that other girl who got killed.
Him: In the first season.
Me: Wasn’t that last year?
Him: On Pluto maybe. We go around the sun a little faster than that here on earth. Wait a second! Why is that woman wearing roller skates?
Me: She said why. Weren’t you watching?
Him: I was having to explain about the other girl. Now, who is sleeping with that guy who looks like he’s going to be the serial killer… Ha, cereal killer.
Me: God. I know. Why didn’t I write that? How could I have missed such an awesome joke?
Him: He’s not the killer.
Me: Would you make me take home a dog that bit me in the neck?
Him: Oh, I have it figured out! The killer is Gibbs’ brother only Gibbs doesn’t know he has a brother, but only discovers it after figuring out that there’s someone out there who knows his secret!
Me: And it’s the nail polish that proves it!
Him: Now I want an orange.
Me: All these folks look the same to me.
Him: You’re racist against white people.
Me: I am not.
Him: Did you vote for Obama?
Him: And you know he’s a Muslim, Christian, Commie, Marxist plant, right?
Me: Yes, I know.
Him: Then that settles it. What was the name of that band I’m in?
Me: I don’t know. I told you I just searched for your name and MySpace.
Him: Here it is. God, I kind of suck as a singer. I should email me and tell me to stick to the drums.
Me: But isn’t she a Mossad assassin?
Him: She did kill her brother.
Me: Probably because he wrecked her car. Take that as a word of warning.
Him: Wait, the show’s over already?
Me: That was a great episode.
Him: Yeah, if you don’t mind that everything Ziva did was completely out of character.
Me: Which one’s Ziva?
Him: The girl with the brown hair.
Me: All the girls have brown hair. Which one?
Him: See, that’s just what I was saying.
Me: Shut up.