Eenie Meenie Mynie Mo

26 07 2007

I’ll go ahead and answer my own question that’s up there in the header above the voodoo dolly. Yes, I am the imaginary knitter. I haven’t knit a single stitch for almost two weeks, even though I have my Clementine Shawlette, my Icarus, a pair of socks, and some sort of wedding ceremony shawl to knit. When I first wrote that “Am I the Imaginary Knitter?” I was blatantly ripping off that Imaginary Socialite site, which I do not get at all. I suppose I don’t get it because I don’t live there, am not friends with the person, and am obviously not the actual Imaginary Socialite, who, for all I know, doesn’t exist. I haven’t knit. That might be why I’m in such a constant state of tizzy, and also why my drink of choice these days is 1% milk which I drink through a STRAW, people. If you’d seen the things I’ve seen, what with the production of “Refusal to Heal” that Jimmy’s ass wound is putting on these days, you’d drink too.

So let’s see.

I’ve decided on color 104, because it’s the most wedding-y. But I’ve also decided on S475, because I love it oh so much. If I end up actually choosing that one fer reals, though, I’ll look like I’m wearing a nekkid dress because that’s pretty close to my skin tone during these lazy days of summer* during which I float in the pool on the blue floaty Jimmy gave me for my birthday before he proposed. And remember, I did NOT pout about the blue floaty when all I really wanted was a proposal. So. I’m getting my dress from SimpleDress, the A Line floor length, spaghetti strap version. I’ll look smashing. Or I’ll look like Woman Who’s Compensating For Never Going to Prom. I so desperately wish I had the self-assuredness Ed’s sister possesses, because then I’d wear that A Line floor length, spaghetti strapped dress in a gorgeous cranberry color. But alas. Je suis sans cajones. Or is it cojones? Either way, I don’t have it.

So, let me ask. What is up with these dirty rotten no-good lying cheating drug-taking cyclists in the Tour de France? There’s no answer, unless Messieurs Rasmussen and Vino decide to call me and tell me what’s up. Every year I get SO excited about le Tour, and every year I’m left disappointed. I know that’s not fair to the true, dedicated athletes who race clean. But Dave Z and Robbie McEwan! Even though they were hit with le Lanterne Rouge and left the race, at least their departure had nothing to do with dishonesty, deceit, and illegal drug use. Still pains me, though. I think what angers me is the cheaters’ assumption that we’re all stupid and somehow unworthy of a clean, honest, excruciatingly hard race. Well. Be gone with ye, I say. Users are losers. As Phil says, you are not a man of heart.

*This is pure sass. These classes are kicking my behind, and while I do miss my children something fierce, I’m glad that their two weeks of vacation with their father are taking place during the last two weeks of this TORTURE SESSION.




8 responses

27 07 2007

I can’t help but wonder this about the Tour too. Um, did they forget that there would be drug testing?

I’m not sure I’d be drinking milk if I had to deal with the amazing ass wound. Too heavy. Oof. Ass wound. Those are two words no one should have to identify with in any way shape or form.

27 07 2007

What’s the other 99% in with the milk? Gin? Vodka?

It does seem that the bike race in France has lost a certain something, maybe Lance Armstrong could come back next year and show them all how a real athlete does it, bunch of losers.

Ass wound, you say? Lots of standing up and sleeping on the stomach? or is it getting any better?

Now stop blogging and get knitting, how far off is the wedding!?

27 07 2007

Forget the other stuff and finish the wedding shawl. Having too many WIPs can be intimidating. Go do some school work and use the rest of the time to knit before the kids come home!

28 07 2007

Depending on what the fabric is made of, you could always overdye the dress cranberry red afterwards…come in handy for all of those formal Xmas and Valentines balls that you attend.

31 07 2007
P del F (Fireball)

Yo soy sans cajones tambien. Wait, you were speaking French there… whoopsie.

The Simple Dresses are just gorgeous. You’ve chosen so well, dear.

Here’s hoping the term ends quickly and painlessly. And the ass wound, well, that needs to heal right on up.

1 08 2007

P del F, isn’t that a horny movie about this drifting woman who befriends two teenagers on a road trip….
OLPP, why do you keep calling me Ian?

3 08 2007

is’nt Ian short for Ivan? What the hell do I know.

3 08 2007

And the clock is wrong too!

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