Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," millions and millions of deities served! You want your deity for here, or to go?
I've been getting great comments from my legions and legions of readers. Gosh, some mornings all I get done is reading my comments section! Well, I also have to examine the upholstery for stains and sort the socks, and by golly, when all that's done it's lunchtime!
Some of you expressed an interest in trying a Tastykake. If you're made of money, you can get them online at The Tastykake Store. However, before you take this step, please be advised that you can save money by getting a regular cake mix, using lard instead of butter/oil, adding extra sugar, doubling the chemical preservatives, and slathering the whole thing with the kind of icing they use to make those pretty flowers on wedding cakes. No shipping and handling that way.
Another Dry Basement by South Jersey Waterproofing ... oops, not! Since spending $7000 of home equity to waterproof the basement, Mr. Johnson and I have earned a nice pool of water that doesn't evaporate, in a section of the basement that never had water before. Some people would find this annoying, but I guess they don't like to skinny dip.
Right to Life for Insects That Leave Painful Scars: It's getting hard to live up to my Right to Life ideals. A colony of wasps has taken residence in our roof, and even though I told them they have a right to life, one of them stung me anyway. How's that for gratitude?
Willoughby the Kitten, one of my many fosters, is now the big, bad mancat at Woodstock Trading Company. I take care of homeless kittens. I never slaughter them in pentagrams. People who do that are disgusting and should be declawed and neutered.
The Heir leaves for college on August 23.
My hip surgery is scheduled for September 2. I will be in hospital for four days, trying to beat back the MRSA that also has a right to life. It's a Catholic hospital, and Mr. Johnson is afraid if I write "Pagan" on my admission form, they'll kill me.
Them's the updates. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I left saltwater taffy in the garden for the faeries. Yesterday morning they rewarded me by sending a hummingbird to my shrubbery.
FROM ANNE
THE MERLIN OF BERKELEY SPRINGS
8 comments:
Now, Puddin'! Those mean ol' Cathlictuals wont kill you...until AFTER they make you confess.
Cheers!
Muin
I've been getting great comments from my legions and legions of readers.
U'r a funny girl. I made a little camping stove today out of a five gallon can, I'm tired of the wind blowing the smoke in my face.
I honor no religions, they are all fools.
I did a nekkid rain dance in my living room and it's been raining for 2 days..i need to turn my ass off...
I wrote pagan on my forms when i had my back surgery's and a priest came in my room and just stood there...after a long uncomfortable silence I said "what?"...and he smiled and said 'nohting, i've just never see a pagan before' smiled again and left..now THAT'S a good catholic.
May the Bored Gods guide the Heir on her new Journey, and may They also see you through a successful surgery. Blessings to you, my friend. I will be thinking of you both!
When we left Son at college, I cried all the way from Princeton to the Maryland border. The Heir is going to do wonderfully!
Ann, once you wake up from the surgery, DEMAND to see a pagan chaplain. If they balk, tell them you want a discount on your hospital bill for their failure to attend to your spiritual needs. If they still balk, inform them your lawyer will be attending to HIS spiritual needs, which happen to be the Church of Almighty Capitalism, the Right Reverend Sueyerass presiding.
It will be interesting to see how long they continue to balk, or just kill you.
They'll kill me. Long history of that, dontcha know.
They'll kill me. Long history of that, dontcha know.
Yeah, I do know. But I'm okay with it, can't really kill an omnipresent spirit.
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