My boss had the nerve to give me my paycheck in this pissy little envelope. Third best? Third best??!!!!? Who is he kidding? None of his other employees would have gotten their bruised and battered body out of their completely demolished truck to go finish their route. None of them have gone to work the day before delivering a baby. I'm a distinct cut above the rest of his
I watched with eyebrow-raised interest as Mini-Infidel Daughter The Second, ironically enough, nicknamed, Monkey, crawled stealthily across the living room carpet on her belly like a jungle predator waiting to pounce. I wondered aloud if she was preparing for a home turf war by practicing some form of 'Guerilla Warfare Technique.' Monkey simply looked at me and grunted. So then, I lept off the sofa and went running all crazy towards her with my fingers extended and wiggling, while frothily yelling, 'Oh yeah? I'm declaring Gorilla Finger (thanks Urban Dictionary!) Warfare on you!' Monkey started screaming and frantically trying to retreat before finally surrendering to me and my imitation Gorilla Fingers. Sweet Gorilla Finger Victory! Perhaps I've stumbled upon a useful weapon to use on the battlefield.
(If I ever chance to meet Naomi Watts or Jessica Lange, I'm going to tell them they smell like Gorilla Fingers!) And finally, amid a chorus of vocal discontent emanating from my girls' room, I peeked in to find them walking in circles around the perimeter of their bedroom. Apparently, they feared that my son, Buster, had taken up permanent residence in the toilet, and they all got struck with poop feeling at the same exact time. Buster instructed the girls through the bathroom door, that the best way to stave off crap cramps is to walk around in circles.....and so they did. Hear the song playing? That's Soul Coughing's song 'Circles.' It goes: "I don't need to walk around in circles, walk around in circles, walk around in circles....." Well, how very nice for him. Apparently, he doesn't have to share his crapper with a gaggle of bloated siblings.