Are the kids gone? Okay. Before launching into snark I’d like to tell everyone thank you who wished me well. I’m already feeling much better.
WTF News: Among the gloom and doom of this week’s news was the story of a reunion between a 6 pound Chihuahua and her owners. She’d been blown away by 70 mph wind gusts. There was even a heartwarming picture of her with her happy owners. Normally this would warrant an aaah, instead of a WTF, except for one small detail. The owners used a pet psychic to find their dog. Who knew there was a career combining domestic animals with the supernatural. A quick Google search into this obscure occupation yielded surprising results though. There were over 344,00o sites dedicated to this phenomenon. Holy Cow! It’s not that obscure after all. Some people claim that they can communicate with dead pets, but most stick to locating lost animals and pet mind reading. This got me thinking (something had to). All of these people are at least supplementing their incomes, if not making them, by “talking” with animals. But they’re just people. What if it was another animal doing the reading? Wouldn’t a four-legged psychic be better at interpreting why fluffy is pooping in her owner’s shoes than one of the two-legged variety? Our own Mistress Bonny could knock the socks off of any human pet psychic.
“He’s cheating on ya with the dog next door, honey. You need to dump him!”
WTF Knitting: Dear, dear Roxie. I darned near wet my pants when I opened your delightful package. My daughters came running to see what the raucous laughter was about and before I could hide the present my youngest caught an eyeful. When she asked what it was the only reply I could think of was, “It’s a pencil holder”.
To which she asked, “What’s the blue part for?”
“To hold extra erasers, of course.” I answered.
“Can I use it for school?” She asked innocently.
“No! It’s for daddy.” And with that I took the gift and gave it to him.
So what did she send? Why a Willie Warmer. A Peter Heater. A Love Glove. Call it what you will, but it’s large, fuzzy and patriotic.
It totally overshadowed my new magazine, which might have thrilled me on any other day.
My DH is especially flattered with Roxy’s high estimation of his character. Personally, I’m a little scared because she said this was a size medium. Anyway, he set the gift on his keyboard where it could bring him luck during his evening round of WOW.
Since then it keeps ending up under my pillow. I keep putting it back under his. I just hope that A3 doesn’t stumble across it and take it to school with pencils in it. Not a phone call I want to deal with.
WTF Rude: Today in the mail a plain white envelope with no return address, only our local zip code showed up. At first I thought I’d been invited to a Tupperware (or whatever the home sellers peddle now) party. The only items in the envelope were a fake 1 million dollar bill and a small comic-type book.
Because the girls’ bus was pulling up I didn’t have much time to read what they were until I got home. It turns out that someone belonging to a local branch of the Living Waters church (with much searching I found a web address in microscopic writing) felt the need to warn us of our impending and eternal doom. The messages contained within the book would make hard core holy rollers appear mild and complacent in comparison. Rarely have I seen anyone use and twist the name of Jesus (who was known for loving everyone last time I checked) with such veracity and hatred. At least when door-to-door religious people come by to convert people they usually find polite ways to state that everyone else but them is doomed. Not only was this impolite, but it was cowardly. Because nobody put a return address label on the envelope I can’t even refute or question their intentions. I do know that this group meets at a local high school because one of the members has asked my daughter to attend on several occasions. Our own family’s religion falls somewhere between Catholic and Lutheran. We don’t usually discuss our beliefs with others, nor would we ever dream of telling someone that they’re wrong. I don’t take kindly to scare tactics or presumptions that we’re in need of saving. The only interactions I’d have with the people who sent this would be to tell them to leave us the h*!! alone.
Mistress Bonny says, “Yeah mon, they need to lighten up and watch this video!”