tawny and tessellated
I seriously doubt there is nine inches of snow out there. There is snow, but not as much as predicted. I am slightly disappointed because NINE INCHES goes so seamlessly with COCK that I was looking forward to all sorts of dirty weather jokes. But alas it is not to be.
Another “alas” is that I really should have put snowpants on Nora. What was I thinking? I suppose I was thinking that we could trudge to the bus stop like normal cold-weather citizens without hopping, shuffling, and wallowing in the snow while frequently yelling “AWESOME!” Clearly that was stupid and delusional. Karma-style, the fact that she is not in snowpants will mean that the kids will have outdoor recess today,* which will equal a wet afternoon for Nora, who luckily will not care since almost nothing causes her discomfort. I am currently searching for a militia group with a summer-camp opening, because she is very good at hardship, extreme environments, physical labor, and group exercise. There is also a fondness for weapons (the more arcane, the better—the crossbow is a current favorite) and chanting. Any suggestions?
*Cannot figure out the school’s winter rubric for deciding on indoor or outdoor recess. It seems to be pure caprice, or perhaps a Magic 8-Ball with the die weighted toward “outdoor.” I don’t really care, but it would be nice to dress the child appropriately for the weather. And not make her lug around snowpants if she’s just going to be playing Legos in the classroom or running around screaming in the gym.
Here is a note that Nora left next to my bed a few days ago.
I love you googolplex and you are the most buetiful [sic] woman in the world!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course she can spell “googolplex” but not “beautiful.” Of course.
LINK IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT
Yes! Thank you!
Katie Roiphe, go take a hike. No one cares what you think about literature.
“Wouldn’t fuck her with Hitler’s dick” is going straight into my catchphrase rotation for January. Although, since I don’t usually comment on people’s unfuckability, I think I’ll change the verb as needed. Bad movie? Wouldn’t watch that with Hitler’s dick! Ugly sweater? Wouldn’t wear it with Hitler’s dick! The fact that it makes no sense will just be icing on the Hitler-dick cake.
(By the way, I am sorry this whole entry is so unsafe for work and for Mormons and for people offended by pop-culture references to Hitler. I am not sure what is wrong with me today. I have been drinking this goofy detox tea and maybe the weirdness and pottymouth is all the toxins leaving my system. What a great excuse for bad behavior! I wonder how long I can use it.)
I HAVE A SCONE
Speaking of tea (although not of the liver-cleansing sort), I and all the female members of my immediate family (sister, mother, daughter) will soon be having it at a fancy hotel, just like in years past. Not at the Drake though, because the Drake sucks now. Just about the only reason to go there for tea is if you have a fetish for stale sandwiches or to gawk at the outlandish Christmas decorations. And Christmas is over! Long live Martin Luther King Jr Day! No school, all the adults also have it off, and thus a new annual afternoon-tea tradition was born. Because that MLK guy, he had a dream. And his dream was that three white ladies and one Asian child should be able to have tea and cakes in a five-star hotel on his birthday. Seriously, look it up, it’s in the speech somewhere.
—mimi smartypants is a diamond in the roughage.