Monday, May 09, 2005

Erectile-y dysfunctional sheep

Many thanks to Tyson Stallings for his thoughtful spammish email, but my sheep do not require any phormecuticals gwamanteed to reduce or possible make less noticing any erectile dysfunctons as seen by sheep on TV.

I do concede, however, that many TV shows would definitely appeal to sheep. And what with that erectile dysfuncton not being reduced, sheep probably have a lot of free time to watch TV.

Some of those so-called 'religious' programs, for example, are specifically made for sheep. That hideous Tammy Faye wannabee woman who looks like a nickel hooker and talks like a nine-year-old Melanie Griffith even refers to her viewers as sheep. Thinking about her viewers as sheep probably eases her conscience when she fleeces them.

Sheep. Fleece.

Well, if a viewer sets himself/herself up to be sheared like that. . . .

I'm going to stop now before the other side of my head starts to pound.

Happy Mother's Day, my beautiful blog-friends. I hope all of you had wonderful days.

Hub and Zappa came home tonight with a truck-bed FULL of impatiens and pansies. The bed for the impatiens is huge, so they set the flats on it and brought the pansies to the deck. I couldn't wait; I turned on the bug-light and filled up the planters. Happy Mother's Day to me. I LOVE getting bedding plants for Mother's Day. One year I got a wheelbarrow, too. I love presents like that. I'm not a perfume and jewelry mother. I'm a flowery mother. A flowery mother who knows how to conquer erectile dysfunction.

All the emails I get concerning it would certainly vouch for that.

The bug light is aptly named. Bugs seem to adore it.

Every time we open a window or door, hordes of June bugs come pouring in. Don't these stupid insects know it's not June yet? Why are they here now? Why are they beating their heads against my doors and windows? Why are they so loud? They sound like buzzsaws.

Do they, too, have erectile dysfunction? Do they suspect that I know the secret of eliminating it? Do they wish to question the sheep?

Sorry, bugs. The sheep ain't talkin.' I might, if you asked me. Are you asking me? I don't understand your language. That's too bad, too; I might know a few solutions to your problem. If that's your problem.

Also, I ate too much at Mom's this afternoon. Man, when a bunch of fat chicks have a pitch-in, the food just doesn't get any better.

I also picked the first tick of the season off the cat. It's now official. Spring is here.