Mmmm, mmmm

Ya'll see this lil ole hayseed plowboy? Ain't he just a big ole long drink o' hunk?

photos from cbs.com/survivor

My Preshuuuusss

I've been reading a lot of the current addictions posts, which made me think about the things I really appreciate on a daily basis.


First thing in the morning I make out with this:



See how the cup is full in the picture? It a LIE! Even though I choose the bigger cup on the menu, I only get three quarters of a cup. (Yes, I can manage to piss and moan about things I love.) I fill the other quarter up with creamer and sugar, so it's all good. But, because of those nifty little cups the coffee comes in, there are no grounds to dispose of. This is a huge plus in my house because of the rule that goes like "a dog will not tear out trash unless it contains huge amounts of coffee grounds to drag all over the carpet".


After "K" and I finish our morning session, I usually need to spend a little quality time with this:

See above mention of "dogs" and "trash", add in a five year old tasmanian devil and you'll see that this is "mommy's other little helper". It's for people that are too lazy to fill a bucket and wring a mop. (me) It also sweeps the floor. It helps to do that before the scrub part.

Once the top layer of grime and filth is removed and I can pretend I've accomplished something domestically related, it's time to go curse that slimy bastard that tortures me on a daily basis. Yes, I'm talking about this:

The trainer? He is an agent from satan himself. He hates me and I hate him but we continue to meet up daily. He insults me and I hurl curse words, slurs and the occasional remote at him. Although I grudgingly admit that I have lost five pounds since we've began our affair. I'm also able to get up in the morning without doing the old lady shuffle, so there's that.


Finally, on to something enjoyable. My new love, the light of my life:




It's sitting in the box, taunting me as we speak. I'm scared to open it. I have no idea how to use this camera. But I just HAD to have it. There are so many pictures I want to take that I can't with my point and shoot. So now poppets, prepare yourselves. Batten down the hatches and stock up on the likker. There will be many bad, poorly composed, out of focus pictures coming your way soon. Your assignment is to tell me that they're artistic. That it's ok that you can't tell what they're supposed to be of, because they speak to you. I promise that when I'm a famous foto graffer, I'll credit you with keeping me going.