Being Neighbourly
So, I'm standing there talking to cute neighbour Steve when my cousin Laura comes along and says "little Stevie Kirschbrauser! I can't believe what a big boy you are now! You've grown so much since last summer! Oh, April, you should have seen this boy when he was little, what a pisser!" And on and on. Just when we were getting a bit of a flirt going. Then a text message came in on my phone, so I took a peek and it was from Beckers. She saw Liz sitting in Anthony's car. They were stopped at the light and she thought they looked like they had some intense conversation going on, Liz waving her arms around while Anthony cried. I wonder what Liz is gonna have 2 say next time she checks in here.
I'm gonna try again for a look at Steve's farm, now that Laura's busy doing something else. Gotta go!
April
I'm gonna try again for a look at Steve's farm, now that Laura's busy doing something else. Gotta go!
April
posted by April Patterson @ 7:21 AM
8 Comments:
At 8:50 AM,
Anonymous said…
Oy veh.
At 9:26 AM,
Anonymous said…
Sorry to Take Care of Business here April but I have reason to suspect Mz. Putain-Glacée has got a sniffer on my pc that's monitoring my email and she took away my cell (in fact she flushed it when she found the photos I had stored on it along with her HSN engagement ring but that's another story *sniff*). I feel a bit like I'm doing "Radio Free Milborough" here as this is my only communication with the outside world that isn't being monitored by that stupid private detective and I've got a couple quick code-messages for a Very Special Lady that you kids (or should I say 'u kidz'?) don't need to concern yourself with:
Elphaba is brewing for the next three hours
The Bundle is on the Doorstep
Cono-Eyay Odge-lay oom-ray 26
The salami has a wrapper
Pretty please?
Oh, and in fairness you guys are only getting ONE side of the dramatic story. You have no idea what kind of day I had before I went to Lakeshore Landscaping. After an hour of French-oath-peppered merde and tears from the putain about a woman's needs (producing kids took care of all my mom's needs, unless you count her stash of Popov in the ceramic chicken) and me avoiding her even when we're at parties together as a couple --which is a bunch of crap I always stay in the same room and I danced with her not once but TWICE at our wedding. I've gotten good at tuning that static out but there's only so much a man can take so I went to my mom's to drop the whoosit off with a note on the kind of diapers Mom needed to pick up.
But is that easy? No! Mom's in floods about some kind of lump and a biopsy and when I pointed out she was out of the Listerine breath-strips I like I don't think she paid any attention AT ALL so I just took some gas money out of the bureau and they didn't even have the right kind of breath freshener at the BP station. Arrgh!
(This 'stache, while dead-sexy, has a tendency to collect bits of soup and cereal and you need a decent breath mint to give it the old air-wick treatment.)
Needless to say I was mad enough to kill when I pulled into the LL parking lot. Howard's lucky he got away with a first class noogie treatment. I would have moved on to purple nurples, indian burns, and a garden-implement propeller wedgie but my Beloved forestalled my masculine wrath and brought me back to sanity with the sweet siren song of her voice.
So we both had really tough days!
At 10:20 AM,
Anonymous said…
April. I wish I could answer all the questions you must have, but I simply can't.
Between Howard's behavior, Antony's bomb and my boob burting like an Elly I'm just a little overwhelmed.
For now I only have one response to the previous post: Je ne suis pas un naufrageur à la maison vous foob égoïste! Vous êtes un homme marié. Je n'ai pas besoin de vos bagages. Allez à votre épouse et obtenez la consultation de mariage. Sérieusement. Juste parce que vous avez économisé mon cou ne signifie pas que je
suis obligé de vous sauver de vos mauvais choix dans la vie. Vous
avez fait votre lit maintenant se situer dans lui! Ask your wife to translate that for you.
That said I must offer this disclaimer: I am a smart woman but I am subject to making stupid decisions. I might change my mind, but this disclaimer is to no way issue hope to you know who.
At 11:20 AM,
Anonymous said…
dang who knew my dad wuz right when he sed that 8th grade french would come in handy??
i'm guessing that liz will cave tho. like tomorrow.
At 11:59 AM,
April Patterson said…
wow. ape = speechless right now. becks is right about the french coming in handy. wooo!
At 2:05 PM,
Anonymous said…
Happy hellos to my hardy hard-drive hookups!
I jsut wanted to give Liz the name of my summer writer's course instructor, Kimberly Klapmantooth. I looks like somebdoys spelling could use a littel help! Seriously, I could only make out the very beginning and the very end of your comment.
Dee says my writing has gotten 250 percent better after studying under Kimmy. I think Dee is pulling my leg though. I learned in grade eight math that you cna't have more than 100 percent of anything. Hello? Remember the pie charts?
Anyway, Kimmy's really, really smart and really, really good. She has a very hands on appraoch. That made it easy for me to hold on to what she was showing me. You should try it, Liz. It will help you wehn you go back up north to Mitigiwisiahithdialdhgeidhgke to teach the littel kids.
Love,
Michael Patterson
At 5:24 PM,
Anonymous said…
Je would adore un homme like Anthony, un homme who's not afraid to cry and write elaborate verses. I think he'd find this book illuminating and tres interessant.
He ought to see a doctor about that spot on his forehead. C'est seulement une idee!
At 12:13 AM,
Anonymous said…
Liz. I know how it can be to have feelings for someone who rescues you.
I can send you my brother Jason if you're lonley. He's much smarter than Anthony.
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