Precocious little thing, isn't she?

So wifezilla, my daughter, and I stopped by Target today on our way home from breakfast. Wifezilla needed a few things and wanted to do a little Christmas shopping while we were there.

So while wifezilla was off doing her thing, I took the wee one over to the grocery side of the store to nab a free cookie. On the way there, she took a hard right and bolted into the personal hygiene aisle. When I rounded the corner, she was standing there with a box of tampons, which she proudly held up and informed me, "These are for mommy's butt."

5 Things With a Vengeance: Vague Apologies

I was hanging out in Blue's office today, and we were trading embarrassing stories, and one of the ones I told has been stuck in my head since. Haven't thought of it in years, and it's had me giggling under my breath all afternoon.

I was trying to figure out something to post here, and finally decided to use that story to build an entry. And what the hell, I'm going to make (most of) them vague to confuse and tantalize anyone who cares. Which amounts to... hold on... carry the one... nobody.

So anyway, here's five apologies I owe people but never gave. Been carrying some of these around with me for better than half my life now. Wow. I don't even know how to get in touch with most of these people to give the apology, but what the fuck, I'm already going to hell for better reasons.

1. Jessica: I'm sorry that I said what I said, and I'm even sorrier I said it where I said it. I was 14, and not really capable of empathy... not that it's any excuse. I thought it would be funny, because it was funny to me when you said those kinds of things in a different setting. I didn't realize how bad it would hurt your feelings until it was already out of my mouth. You were my best friend at the time, and continued to be my best friend for a long time after that, which is testament to how much you rock. You're still one of the best friends I've ever had. I'd never make you feel that way on purpose.
2. Alyson: I'm sorry about the barf. In my defense, there were spiders. S. Plural. Christ.
   
3. Patrick: I'm sorry about the porno magazines. I really thought they'd stop sending them to you before a whole year had gone by and your mail started getting forwarded to your mom's house. On the bright side, she stopped worrying about you being gay for a while.
4. Suzie: I'm sorry, I really did forget the date of your show. I've never really been good with anything outside a regular schedule. I wish I had been there.
5. Dr. Beaumier: I'm sorry I laughed at you so hard you had to go home and change clothes. In my defense, dude, you were wearing spandex cycling shorts with a dress shirt. What the fuck? Actually, fuck it, I don't owe you an apology... laughing long and hard is the correct response. Jackass.
   

Their brains are like little sponges.

So I very nearly taught my sweet little daughter the word fuck tonight. Fortunately, I worked harder than I should have this week and managed to turn a simple case of the creeping crud into what now feels suspiciously like bronchitis. The coughing fit that elicited the poetical utterance also rendered it unintelligible.

My daughter now yells, "Ock!" every time something annoys her.

Necro Feel Ya II

Grimmy sent me a screenplay tonight. I only mention it so you can writhe in jealousy. That's right. Writhe, my pretties, writhe. No, seriously, writhe.

Oh, this? It's just baby oil. Don't worry about it. Get back in the jello pool. No, really. No big deal.

Oh, yeah.

Zombies and strippers make everything better.

Deer, Pocky, Lips

So I'm riding in to work this morning, and the whole drive in, it looks like I missed some massive, failed deer uprising. The carnage was impressive. Several of the corpses were even more or less intact.

I saw no human bodies, by which I conclude that we must have won. I mean, we had the luxury of hauling our dead off the field of battle. Go home team!

Then, upon my triumphant return to work, and after wading through all the confetti and ticker tape (they say you get used to it, but I find that you never really do), I log in, check my email, and find that Grimmy's back, and has been posting comments on my blog.

Could it be coincidence that Grimm -- the man who once confessed to a burning desire to best a deer in hand-to-hand combat -- returned today? Nay, I say. Nay! I feel quite certain that he must have led the assault.

Your children are safe tonight thanks to this brave man.