We here at Camp Pixiemartin would like to assure you that despite the fact that I have the plague, courtesy of my momma, I am otherwise rockin' the free world. (Is it too late to put that lump of coal in your stocking, dude? Maybe I can get you a strip mining tour for your birthday! Or even a tour of the nearest and most conveniently located strip mine!)
("Oh no, but I sold my foot to get you the lump of coal for your stocking!" and "Oh no, but I sold my furnace to get you a stocking, so you could have one too!" Woe is us. Woe are us?)
I am hopped up and dopey on some arcane combination of dextromethorphan, guaifenesin, loratadine, opemrazole, ethinyl estradiol, norgestrel, bupropion, citalopram, and pseudoephedrine.
Yes, that pseudoephedrine.
The ever-lovin' precursor to methamphetamines. (You know, when I was a kid and relied on OTC allergy relief, I probably took enough pseudoephedrine pills to keep a mid-sized meth lab in operation for at least a week. Provided that someone else supplied the other ingredients needed. I don't even know where to begin to look for the fertilizer.)
I had to give the pharmacist my driver's license and sign some paperwork to even get my hands on the stuff.
To be honest, I was pretty much off my rocker pre-pseudoephedrine, so here's to looking forward to the show in the next few hours, to which I happen to have the best seat in the house.
I also have tangerines, water, juice, juicy gels (pre-fab gelatin in cups), tissue, an array of remote controls, a pile of pillows, and a stack of movies, none of which I can recall the titles to at this point in time. Gravedancers, maybe? I think Ratatouille for sure.
Yay cooking rats!
Yay Patton Oswald!
Yay not having to work today or tomorrow!
Oh oh oh... I'm forgetting.
If the doctor I saw today is cool enough, I should be able to get my prescription for Augmentin filled for like $10. Instead of $150 or so. Of course, I have to wait to get it, but still. (And if he isn't cool, I have a sharp shovel and a drop cloth in my trunk.)
And dude, Juno got 3 Golden Globe awards! I don't even know the chick, but I sorta feel like I do because of her web omnipresence and the fact that I've read her book. Boo-yah! Go Diablo Cody, go!
Thank you for reading our rambling missive, and rest assured that Pixie will soon be down for the day, and totally staying away from sharp objects. With gelatin. And remotes. And possibly even guest appearances by none other than Cricket Martin and her kitty, Posey Martin!
Bye now.
("Oh no, but I sold my foot to get you the lump of coal for your stocking!" and "Oh no, but I sold my furnace to get you a stocking, so you could have one too!" Woe is us. Woe are us?)
I am hopped up and dopey on some arcane combination of dextromethorphan, guaifenesin, loratadine, opemrazole, ethinyl estradiol, norgestrel, bupropion, citalopram, and pseudoephedrine.
Yes, that pseudoephedrine.
The ever-lovin' precursor to methamphetamines. (You know, when I was a kid and relied on OTC allergy relief, I probably took enough pseudoephedrine pills to keep a mid-sized meth lab in operation for at least a week. Provided that someone else supplied the other ingredients needed. I don't even know where to begin to look for the fertilizer.)
I had to give the pharmacist my driver's license and sign some paperwork to even get my hands on the stuff.
To be honest, I was pretty much off my rocker pre-pseudoephedrine, so here's to looking forward to the show in the next few hours, to which I happen to have the best seat in the house.
I also have tangerines, water, juice, juicy gels (pre-fab gelatin in cups), tissue, an array of remote controls, a pile of pillows, and a stack of movies, none of which I can recall the titles to at this point in time. Gravedancers, maybe? I think Ratatouille for sure.
Yay cooking rats!
Yay Patton Oswald!
Yay not having to work today or tomorrow!
Oh oh oh... I'm forgetting.
If the doctor I saw today is cool enough, I should be able to get my prescription for Augmentin filled for like $10. Instead of $150 or so. Of course, I have to wait to get it, but still. (And if he isn't cool, I have a sharp shovel and a drop cloth in my trunk.)
And dude, Juno got 3 Golden Globe awards! I don't even know the chick, but I sorta feel like I do because of her web omnipresence and the fact that I've read her book. Boo-yah! Go Diablo Cody, go!
Thank you for reading our rambling missive, and rest assured that Pixie will soon be down for the day, and totally staying away from sharp objects. With gelatin. And remotes. And possibly even guest appearances by none other than Cricket Martin and her kitty, Posey Martin!
Bye now.
4 comments:
I totally rule!
Bwa ha ha ha ck ah hack hack hack HACK.
I hope you are feeling better. I feel bad, now, about the Swiss Army knife snafu.
Damn it.
How is your brand new hot-pink Swiss Army Knife complete with tweezers and pick treatin' ya?
I just got it today, and as I took it out of the box, I made sure to admire the brightness of color and sleek utilitarian lines.
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