For each step forward,
Process goes seventeen back,
Three days of life gone.

While I was away,
The washing machine blew up,
Only six years old.

So, Sears…Here we come.
Others go to BlogHer,
I go to the mall.

Then - after the mall,
Grocery shopping I think.
Wish you were me, huh?

So, until later,
when I can give you funny,
I leave you with this -

more cat pictures

Finally Friday!
To Do List growing longer
but some are crossed off!

Senior pics scheduled,
Massage appointment is made,
Beer bought and chilling.

The latest flowchart
shows five equals five dipshit
for Wednesday meeting.

Still have to finish
Blissfully Domestic Post
for next edition.

Did you read last one?
All about having meetings
with others around.

Shortman - still in bed.
It’s one-twenty-five p.m.
Going to yell now.

Twenty-four at work,
then he’ll come home, then take off,
Slutty McSlutsky.

Mr. Hot and I
going to watch the races -
Sigh. Our “alone time”.

I travel next week
To BlogHer? you ask, Really?
No. Windy City.

Three days of meetings
About? Why yes, you guessed it!
That flippin’ process.

People I don’t know
Except from telephone calls
and heated debates.

But at July’s end
Some fun awaits me at home
Wait until you hear!

Cool Aussie Missy,
Tiff the Ann Arbor homie,
Me, myself and I -

Friday, August first,
Michigan Bloggers Party
Be there or be Square!

—- I know! I missed meeting the Michigan bloggers because I was in Chicago for the Bossy meet-up, so we’re having our own little replay. Bossy! Wanna come back to Dee-troit? —-

A haiku of lust -
The link list up there on top?
Oh mah holy hell.

An alphabetized
list of those I know and love.
Twenty-two letters!

“Q”, “U, “X” and “Z”
Not popular for blog names?
No! Wait! Don’t tell me!

Unless it is you -
then I’m happy to edit
Typing is my life.

Ha! Was that last line totally sarcastic?

Please check!

• If I have your link wrong -
• If I have your blog name wrong or misspelled -
• If you don’t want to be associated with me -
• If you’re my biggest fan ever but have never de-lurked or told me your URL -

Tell me and I will fix it.

If your first comment was in the month of June though?!?, you have to WAIT until next week when I do the post highlighting new commenters. THEN I will add you. I promise. (If you want to be included.)

Now, do me a little favor please. Take the poll. I’m just curious, because when I first started blogging, I used my favorite blogger’s link lists to find new blogs. Now, though, I read through a reader, and therefore, forget to update my list as often as I should. I’m curious as to YOUR thoughts on blogrolls. (Other than the fact that they’re delicious when covered in chocolate and sprinkles!)

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—- Welcome first day of Summer! It’s spectacular here today. Of course, I’ve been sitting in my tiny little office since 8 a.m., but the window’s open and the birds are singing. —-

Must get that picture
further down the freakin’ page
The shine is blinding.

FedEx just pulled up
Oooh, maybe something for me?
Yes! A pretty vase.

Last day of classes -
Shortman has one final left
Next week on Tuesday.

He has been so stressed -
vacation is what he needs
to think “future” thoughts

The other son here;
the one known as 24 -
got a job offer!

He starts on Monday.
Thank goodness for The Gap Corp.
He will fit right in.

Nothing is better
than the summer beginning
with happy Hot boys.

**************************

I’ve been trying to call this vendor out in California to set up a meeting with one of their sales guys the week after next. Now, it’s only 11 a.m. here, but I figured that if I could get into their system and find this “Barry” guy, then I could leave him a voicemail to call me back.

When I dial the number on their website, I get a recording that says:

You have reached a mis-routed number for Vendor X. Please dial 408-222-8888 instead of 408-222-8889. Thank you.

[click]

I check the number that I dialed. 408-222-8888. Dammit, that IS what I’m dialing. I just dialed again, since I’ll need to check every hour from now until they DO answer. Nope. Same message. I’m so glad these people want my business.

So now, I’m sending an email telling them that their phone recording sucks. I think that’s a fair assessment, don’t you?

**************************

Here’s the vase my nice FedEx man brought me. I wanted something little for my desk (although I’m sure the cats are going to have something to say about it) something that will fit a couple of stalks of lilies or some Anise. Right now, there’s an unopened Stella d’Oro lily and a stalk of Veronica Speedwell.

—- Hope you’re getting the weather you need for your soul today! I’m off to pick the book winner on the Hot Reviews Books site! —-

Mr. Hot points out,
“What men hear is different,
than what women say.”

**********************

Mr. Hot’s contribution to today’s post:

What I heard last night while watching TV with “The Hotfessional”

I heard: “God, I’m insatiable!”
What she said: “Wow, that song’s sensational!”

I heard: “I get so horny when you’re with me!”
What she said: “I can’t believe how corny this show can be.”

I heard: “Bury your face between my tits.”
What she said: “Dana Carvey is the pits!”

I heard: “Let’s go get naked.”
What she said: You won’t believe what Candy said.”

**********************

There is something wrong,
there shouldn’t be so much dust
on Kama Sutra.

**********************

I thought, when I started working from home, that there would be a lot more time for loud, toe curling, grab-the-bedposts and squeaks-be-damned afternoon sex with my husband. Because, y’know, we’re both old, and by the time 10 p.m. rolls around, we’re both half asleep before we drag our asses (cute asses, to be sure, but dragging….) up to bed. Besides, I LOVE afternoon sex. Remember this?

That’s my theme song. Morning sex can be good, but y’know, ewwww on the whole kissing thing right then. And if I’m going to get up to brush my teeth for sex, you better damned well believe I’m going to get some coffee too. And seriously, after enough coffee to wake me up? It’s nearly afternoon anyway.

What happened to my dreams of nooners on the office floor and quickies in the kitchen? Well, I’m not saying it hasn’t happened twice, but oh mah holy hell y’all, these boys better plan on spending some time out of this house this summer.

**********************

Out back is a barn.
We could spread lots of sweet hay,
and watch out for bees.

**********************

—- And every time Mr. Hot and I do manage to get some time alone and treat eat each* other to a little, em, nookie and cookie?, Poopy the Puppy goes down and grabs his bitch pillow off the couch, carries it upstairs and humps it. Anyone know a good bee repellant? —-

*edit: Y’all? How Freudian WAS that typo?

A Day and a Post
Both filled with nothing at all
Except randomness.

Quiet has reigned here.
I would have slept on my desk
Except it is wood.

A special email
And a haiku that she wrote
did brighten my day.

But other than that
there is nothing happening
in the Hot household.

As much as I bitch about stupidity and the craziness that surrounds me on a daily basis, today was bor-ing.

(I have just completely jinxed it by typing that, you realize? Okay, so long as we’re on the same page here!)

So randomness - I haz it.

• The other day, some asshat decided to steal money out of our checking account using Mr. Hot’s debit card. We have two suspects. We have filed a police report. We have canceled the card and the bank has started its investigation. We should have our money back in 7-10 business days…because I can say, with 100% certainty, that I did not get a first-class ticket on Malaysian Airlines for my birthday….although that’s what Mr. Hot’s debit card paid for. I cannot even begin to express how many different ways I’ve thought about dismembering this prick. Believe me, his prick would be one of the first, um, removals.
• The past few days, around lunchtime, the woman who lives in the house across the street comes home. A few minutes later, a van pulls up and parks on the road in front of her house. A man gets out and goes into the house with her. He stays for about an hour, and then leaves. Sometimes, afterwards, she leaves, too. Sometimes she doesn’t. As far as I can tell, her husband (who is not the man who comes over at lunchtime) is there on a regular basis - walking the dog, taking the boys for bike rides, cutting the grass - although not when the mysterious van is there. I can’t figure out whether the husband is still living in the house. I’m guessing if he is, he won’t be for long. (Yes, this is what happens when you sit at a desk looking out over your street for 8 or 9 hours every day.)

The view:

Hey, you’d wonder too if you sat in front of this window 9 hours/day.

• The cable that connects my camera to my laptop is the same kind of cable that connects my Blackberry to my laptop. Since I’ve discovered that, my life has been much easier because I’m not staring at two cables trying to figure out which one is which. It also saves me walking downstairs and back up when I decide to take a random picture of the house across the street… the one I sit and look at all day long.
• The plan for this evening involves driving several miles down the road to watch cars go straight, really fast, for a quarter-mile. The things I do for the testosterone laden members of this house will never cease to amaze me. Therefore, on Sunday, NO ONE better wake me up before Noon unless it’s to open a present, drink champagne, or feed me peeled grapes. And chocolate. The good stuff, not the cheap kind. Take note all penis-bearing members of this house. You have been warned.
• I’ve been watching three rabbits chase each other around the yard. They play leapfrog; they play hide-and-seek. There are finches that fly by, their bright yellow bodies zipping through the air and past my window. I can hear Poopy the Puppy downstairs, whining to try and get out into the yard, because, “Mom. Mom. Mom. Want to play wit teh bunnehs. Mom. Mom. Come let me out.” Were it not for that, I could almost make believe that I’m Snow White or Pocahontas surrounded by little forest creatures in a Disney animated film. (Ahahahahahahahahah. snort. Yea, right.)

—- When is it going to be warm enough to open the windows? I think I’m going a bit stir-crazy around here, breathing my own air all the time. —-