Beautiful Nail

Robi handed me a brochure this morning.
Said: "You HAVE to blog this."

I agreed.

First of all,
the name of the salon
made me think of Anjelah Johnson.
Her nail salon bit
(the last half of the video)
is hilarious.

Even if you don't get your nails done,
you can tell from the howling laughter in the audience,
that her rendition is spot on.
I can confirm it is.
The last time Cousin Alex and I had our nails done together,
the head technician greeted each customer with
"Hi Honey!"
Alex and I couldn't make eye contact
cuz we'd just burst out laughing.




So back to Robi's brochure...

Looks harmless enough.



They have your typical spa services.



But, upon closer review...



Helluva deal, really.
Where else can you get the side of your ass waxed?
And for only $7.00?

Calvin and Hobbes

For the longest time,
the Calvin and Hobbes cartoon
was my method of birth control.

As a child, and well into my teens,
my mother often cursed me
with the burden of raising a child like me.

I have no doubt,
that if I'd had children,
they would have been just like Calvin.

I am eternally grateful that my stepkids
are of the Stepford variety.
It's eerie, really.

















Thanks to M'Licious for sending me these.
I have no doubt she was the female version of Calvin.

And, we're back

You probably didn't even notice I was gone.
No worries.
It doesn't really feel as though I left.

Not to mention that when I left last Friday for Mexico,
I was only wearing a t-shirt and a sweater.
(And pants. I was also wearing pants.)

This morning?
Only three days later?
I'm wearing winter boots,
a hooded down-filled coat,
mittens,
and shovelling 10 cm of snow!
Snow, I tells ya!

WTF?

grumble grumble grumble

I do, however, console myself with
memories of a wonderful trip.
We went away again with Crayon and her TH
When we went away with them last year,
the constant joke was that everything was deep-fried.
Which, in my humble opinion,
is a non-issue.
I mean, really,
there ain't nothin' wrong with deep fryin'.

Having said that,
the Grand Serenis took deep frying
to a new level of godliness:



You may think,
OH! MY! GOD!
But let me tell you, mi amigos,
that deep fried bread,
and baked beans
and bacon,
make one helluva breakfast!



That, my loyal followers, was breakfast.
Every. Day.
Now, you may think there isn't much on that plate.
There isn't.
But remember, that's my second plate.
The one before that had
fruit,
waffles,
danish,
and some egg concoction,
which I'm sure was also deep-fried.

Surprisingly, I only gained five pounds.
I'm guessing the alcohol cancelled out the oil.

See.
There is a God.