My car, when it's clean, is on Nature's shit list. Literally.
Plumbing issues are my worst nightmare. So of course, the plumbing gods decided it was time to toy with me.
I'm such a bad uncle. Every year I go into the Christmas season with the best of intentions — and exit with the worst of excuses.
It's that dreaded gift-giving time of year, and I had to wrap a gift for my work Christmas party. Naturally, it didn't go quite as I intended. It never does.
If a man gets sick in the woods and there's no woman around to hear him, does he still whine?
Who knew the ancient Egyptians thought the humble dung beetle was sacred? The Houseguest, that's who. And she was determined to tell me all about it — whether I wanted to hear about it or not.
Despite the innuendo, click-bait title, and juvenile humor, there is a decided lack of porn in this post. Just me being abused by my crappy ISP. Again.
Ever know you've screwed up? Like really bad? Like someone told you to do something and you said yeah, yeah, you would take care of it — and you meant to — but you just didn't get around it because, well, you just didn't? This is one of those times.
So, the Houseguest kept bugging me to mail her early voter ballot to her. Trips to the post office never end well — but what else could I do? So off I went.
This isn't really a review, but more of a lament that I don't have a time machine to go back and warn myself not to buy them.