One of the best things about having a television that is completely dead: knowing I will never have to run to change the channel when the Yelling Man comes on pitching some crap. I know, it's sad that he's dead: voluntary retirement would have been my preference. And Gail Storm! When I married my second husband, Whiz Kidz alum, Palm Springs, performed the ceremony, holding open a hard bound biography of Gail Storm. A weirdly exhausting week. I need a vacation, and have a short one coming up. Thank Baby Jebus! 
My friend Michael came over on Saturday and we smoked and drank and cackled. The next day I was extremely hung, to paraphrase Auntie Mame, and spent the day sitting or laying down. I have a good book, but at times it hurt my brain, so I just sat. Beulah came up and sat on my lap and became obsessed with the pleather pull on the zipper of my hoodie and would pull it down, and it's all I'm wearing on top, and I'd pull it up and it just seemed like the perfect thing for the moment. So: hung over zombie woman being undressed by a chicken. 
Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.
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