NINE HOURS OF COSTUME/TECH BEGINS!

Well, most of us are in costume. Sage is still just in his skimpy, vacuum-tight microphone-pocket undergarments. Because he is the black hole of emotional need. The rest of us are dressed as the Tottenham Court paupers and roustabouts we truly are. But with a foundation of skimpy, vacuum-tight microphone-pocket undergarments.

So it became instantly clear when Scott and Rob showed up this morning that nobody was emotionally invested in tacking our planned fourth mile onto our usual three-mile run

At least they weren’t; I’m a hollowed-out emotional void, so I’m not emotionally invested in anything. But we had a quorum anyway so I was spared the awkward responsibility of being the vice-presidential tie-breaker.

As usual, Rob and I spent our run discussing show tunes, the cosmic events that cause cars to appear at our street crossings ONLY when we try to cross them, the absurdity of String Theory in the face of Loop Quantum Gravity, and owls. Also as usual, Scott ran ahead of us, this time so far that he added some loops, ran an additional .45 miles, still beat us to our finish line, and greeted us there ironically in an owl costume. Let’s all agree that Scott is the weird one in our group. It goes without saying that Rob is the talented one, and I of course am Farrah Fawcett.

PS: Dad, I remembered to take the yardy to the curb.

#BitchKittyLife

It’s so cute that he’s finally learned the SPELLING of “smart”

ADDENDUM: Apparently the stupid old fuck WASN'T lying for once about his crowd size. But I’m still leaving this post up to retroactively mock him for the many previous empty rallies and inaugurations that he pathetically bragged were full. Plus I want to think I contributed to one of his epic meltdowns. Plus I’m making some fake news that he can for once tell the truth about.

This post is a public service on SO MANY LEVELS.

He's confusing the Electoral College with Trump University again

FRIDAY QUESTIONS:

1. Why is everyone Facebook thinks I may know either 17 or 85 or living with a pair of bra-bursting boobs in Indonesia?

2. Is there a better song on the planet than "Xanadu"? (Hint: No, there is not.)

3. How is it possible that I've already eaten an entire bag of Dove Caramel & Milk Chocolate Valentine's Hearts today and it's only 4:27?

4. Why does Bitch Kitty single me out for soul-shattering abuse when she used to love me and all I've ever done is love her back?

5. Corollary: Why does she think that's it all about her whenever I happen to be standing near the treat cupboard with my opposable thumbs and my cupboard-opening skills, neither of which she'll ever have?

6. Do you promise not to tell my mom if I drive all the way to the Target across town after work tonight to see if they have the two totally cool shirts I saw at the Target by my office two nights ago but hopefully in my size over there?

7. Is there a less clumsy way I could have written that last question? (Hint: I don't care. I'm going to drive over there tonight anyway to see if they have my shirts. But please don't tell my mom. She'll just cite some stupid "common sense" rule like I already have too many shirts or something.)

8. Do you think I can make this list go all the way to 10?

9. Was that last question just a transparently desperate attempt to keep you engaged in this post as a way to fill the soul-sucking void in my life that grows deeper and more black-holey every day I continue to not have a boyfriend?

10. Should I keep taking my meds?