Saturday, July 15, 2006

Hotter Than a Two Dollah Pistol...

Hot. For Minnesota, it's effin' hot. And like most people in the area, where our extremes are usually of the cold variety, all I have is a couple fans. My dogs are hot, too.

Every time the husband puts water on the greyhound's head to cool her, the sheltie freaks and starts rolling around, shaking, and trying to dry from the imaginery water in what has to be the most empathetic behavior I've ever seen.

I went shopping today. Some Bigs from the company that is buying the company for which I work is coming in on Tuesday. The nearest town with clothing is nearly fifty miles away. Of course, I still ran into a people I knew who also have the drive that far for anything beyond basic staples.

Then we went to eat, and I ordered lasagna which was nauseating pepper-y. The waitress told me that it was because it was pasta. Huh? What? There is a place here, un my little town that kicks ass on the lasagna. The waitress tries to act like I can't handle spicy food -- one common spice way overused is not spicy. I like spicy. I miss Indian food in ways that my vocabulary is inept to satisfactorily convey. This was just bad. Anyhow, I made the waitress take it off the bill. Will eat there again the fifth of never, mostly because of the waitress acting like the problem was with me.

But I bought a cute outfit, so it's all of the Happy. Even got a cute necklace to match. Of course, I'm currently wearing pink shorts with blue flowers and a lime-ish green shirt, so fashion is not my strong suit. <--- see what I did with the pun?
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